Officer Wiley and the female deputy disappeared from the vehicle, leaving Euclid alone. She watched as they gently shooed the cameraperson away. Angry cries erupted across the dirt road. Euclid couldn’t see well through the tinted windows—but well enough to see several men and women were exiting the tents with metal baseball bats, shouting. Some of the deputies had now pulled up the tent stakes and were dragging them off the road, even with people inside. The commotion worsened. Josephine Smith was trying to move the television crews back from
the road, as they were shooting the enfolding events.
“Get back!” Cash shouted.
More people poured out of the tents, some picking up signs, others with bats, shouting anti-government slogans. Euclid could see many of them wore blue armbands with Neander profiles crossed out. The dark fury on their faces surprised her—they were beyond angry. Orlov’s huge silhouette stepped from one of the cars, wielding a Taser and shouting for them to stand back, temporarily halting their advance. But the crowd was seething, and Euclid could see the beginnings of actual violence.
An especially angry teenager with a pinched brow and a blue bandanna wrapped around his lower face approached her SUV, shouting and holding a bat aloft. He jabbed the bat into a side window, shatteringit. Before Euclid could react, he’d reached in, unlocked the door, and pulled it open. She scrambled over to the driver’s side and seized the door to pull it closed, but the kid managed to thrust the baseball bat into the doorjamb. He yanked it open.
“Well, lookie-loo here,” he said, crawling into the vehicle. “Got myself a government piggy all by herself.”
“Get the hell away from me!” Euclid yelled, looking around for Wiley. Where was he? She pressed her back to the passenger door, fingers clawing behind her for the handle to get out the other side. The guy grabbed her foot, and she felt herself pulled toward him. Finally, her fingers snagged the handle just enough to click the door open. She jerked her foot away and went spilling into the dirt of the road. She leapt to her feet, taking off running. Glancing back, she saw the masked teenager coming out the other side of the SUV and start after her.
Everything was in chaos. Shouts and yells reverberated around her. Dust was rising, adding to the bedlam. Euclid couldn’t believe how fast everything had happened.
“Come back here, you little bitch!” She heard the voice behind her again as he caught up to her, his hand grasping the backstrap of her bulletproof vest. He jerked her back. She swung around and hit him in the face. Crying out in surprise, he released her and dropped the bat, giving her time to turn and run again. A bang echoed to her left, and another, and acrid smoke suddenly filled the air, an unfamiliar, pungent stench attacking Euclid’s nose and lungs and blinding her. She staggered, coughing, her eyes, nose, throat on fire. Jesus Christ, someone had deployed tear gas. Had it been police or protesters?
Suddenly, a palm fell on her shoulder. She whipped around. A terrifying black mask emerged from the smoke like some demented plague doctor. She tried to scream but couldn’t. She was choking and could hardly see to move. She stumbled back.
“It’s Officer Wiley,” the familiar voice said. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
She felt something slip over her head and face, and suddenly, she could breathe again. It was a gas mask. She took deep, gulping breaths, hacking. Her entire face was wet with tears and snot. Another bang, and more gashissed into the air. She could hear crying, coughing, and screams from the fog. The smoke was everywhere. Euclid could barely see through her tears. Her assailant seemed to have disappeared.
Euclid felt faint and stumbled against Officer Wiley. He scooped her up with ease. One arm looped under her knees, the other supporting her back. Her cheek bumped softly against a muscled shoulder as he strode toward an idling SUV.
“I never should have left you alone. I’m sorry,” Wiley said.
He opened the door and placed her behind the passenger seat. Someone had swept the seats free of broken glass.
Next to her was a handcuffed woman in a gas mask who could only be Margie Brooksfield. Euclid could just make out the terrified expression through the mask.
“We got Brooksfield,” Wiley said. “Gave herself up voluntarily to try to stop the situation from escalating. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Cash was in the driver’s seat, and Officer Wiley sat next to her. The CBI agent revved the engine and peeled off down the road, emerging from the clouds of dust and tear gas at speed. Euclid glanced back at the Armageddon they had left behind, the press rushing this way and that, smoke drifting in the air. She was horrified to see an SUV upside down and on fire—a fire that was now spreading through the dry grass and licking up the ranch fence. She could hear sirens wailing in the distance.
Euclid pulled off the gas mask. “What… happened?” she panted, raising her arm to wipe snot and tears off her face.
Wiley grabbed her arm to stop her. “Don’t—your shirt’s still covered in tear gas.” He handed her a towel from the front, and she took it gratefully, cleaning herself up.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Who deployed the tear gas?”
“They tried to flip Sheriff Colcord’s police cruiser and set it on fire with two deputies inside,” Cash said. “They barely got out on time. That’s when we deployed the tear gas. Several of them attacked our people with bats. An absolute shit show.”
“Jesus.” Euclid laid her head back on the seat, ears ringing. This had been a catastrophe. Her eyes stung, and her throat was swollen and onfire. She could barely swallow. Belen Caldas would have plenty to work with, that was for sure. Euclid couldn’t even begin to imagine how she was going to explain this to the judge. What a mess. She just hoped nobody had been killed.
