I guess it all started at Miller’s, the gas station on the other side of town; these kids came in all hurried and frantic, knocking shit over and screaming, and one of them was bleeding, and they went nuts when the guy behind the counter didn’t dial 911 fast enough.  They tore up the place, went to the Beak, tore that joint up too and sent the regulars at the bar running, and somewhere or the other, the power got knocked out to the whole town.  That’s all she knew at that point.  She didn’t know if it was the gang of kids, or from the damned storm.  Either way, it was as dark as a mine shaft out there, and the town just kind of locked itself shut since nobody wanted to deal with all the racket.  I don’t blame them one bit.  I sure as shit wouldn’t want to tangle with a platoon of loaded coke heads.

Fuckers like that are so doped up that they don’t feel a thing.  Punches and blows just bounce right off of them like nobody’s business.  And you can’t reason with them.  But that explained the lack of cops; I’m sure those cowboys had their hands full wrangling up all those rowdies.  That made perfect sense.  She went on about what her cousin had told her, and her cousin said that we should either head over to where she was staying with her family, or just up and head out of town and keep on moving.  Either way, she wasn’t budging.  And she said whatever we do, we should be quick about it.  Sally said that her cousin emphasized the quick part.  The cousin said she’d been hearing random gunshots up and down the town since nightfall, and everybody and their grandmothers were bottled up inside, holed up and waiting for the official word.  Sally and I started to brainstorm our options, trying to stir up a proper game plan.  Sandy Creek was the next town over, and we sure as shit weren’t driving 50 miles that way, not in that weather.  And we really didn’t want to head back toward Harvey’s in the storm, so we figured we’d rough it out there in town for the night; we just hadn’t figured out the where just yet.