The Survivalist (Frontier Justice)

Chapter 17

The morning following the shooting at the hospital, Mason called his four volunteer deputies together to discuss the security of the town. They met at the Boone police department, one of the few remaining buildings that hadn't been ransacked. The front window and glass door were cracked, but they were covered with bars that helped keep them structurally intact. Fortunately, retired Police Chief Blue still had keys to the station and was able to let everyone in without any difficulty.

The inside of the small police station looked pristine, as if the departing officers had simply locked it up for the night. Portable radios sat in chargers, and papers were stacked in neat piles on the three desks. The holding cells were empty, except for long metal benches and stainless steel toilets. The town's seven police officers had all died from the virus, but they were to be saluted for closing the facility in an orderly fashion, and with a sense that, one day, it might be needed again.

Mason and his deputies sat in a small interrogation room that had also served as a break room for the town's officers. A large coffeemaker was sitting on a side table, Styrofoam cups neatly stacked beside it. Coon, the scruffy hillbilly who seemed most out of place, was slowly breaking one of the cups into small pieces and then lining them up on the table into a makeshift jigsaw puzzle.

Chief Blue said, "Marshal Raines, I heard what happened last night. It's good to see you're still standing."

"Apparently, this is the second time they've hit the hospital for drugs. We obviously need to stop that sort of crime."

"We'll have to set up patrols," said Deputy Sheriff Vince Tripp. "There are only five of us, and we'll all need down time, so coverage is going to be spotty. Best we can do is probably half on and half off at any given time."

"Agreed," said Don Potts, the Army MP. "If push comes to shove, we can always call for all hands on deck."

"I want everyone to keep in mind that our goal at this point is to prevent violent crime," Mason pointed out. "We need to start by rooting out the worst offenders. If we can do that, the townspeople will largely step up and take care of the petty criminals."

"A sense of security will go a long way to helping everyone get back on their feet. No pun intended," Don said, patting his prosthetic leg.

Mason grinned. Don seemed to be a man who could not only take care of himself but also take a joke. Such men were rare.

"Chief Blue, you know your way around this station. Can you get it up and going? We may have to bring in a few prisoners, even if just to put a scare into them."

"Sure. There are two holding cells. We could probably get three people in each if needed."

"That should be plenty. I don't expect hardcore criminals to surrender to our makeshift police force. They'll call us out instead."

"The convicts are holed up over at the Walmart," said Vince. "Evidently, they broke into the store and are now using it as a de facto headquarters."

"That's actually not a bad move," said Don. "Plenty of supplies. Food, drinks, clothing—even some over-the-counter meds."

"The question is what do we do about them?" asked Chief Blue. "Just occupying the store isn't a violent offense in itself."

"It is if they use it as a base from which to attack innocent people," countered Vince.

Mason thought for a moment.

"I think we can all agree that Boone is better off without these criminals. Let's tell them it's time to leave town."