Volcano Watch

CHAPTER THREE

A small crowd watched through curtains of snow as we dragged into Red’s Meadow. Eric had radioed ahead and it looked like the entire police department had mobilized — and a few town officials, to boot.

Afternoon was fading but the scene was lit with huge police department lanterns.

We halted and I knelt to unfasten my iced bindings, fumbling with cold gloved hands. There was such a din that I jumped when someone touched my shoulder. I turned. A man stood over me, so close I had to crane my neck. I couldn’t make out his face, which was recessed in the depths of a parka hood. I must have shown my shock, for he dropped to a crouch like a large animal making itself smaller so as not to cause alarm.

“Hell,” he said, “it’s me, Adrian Krom.” He threw back his hood and showed his face. “I don’t bite.”

“You just startled me.”

“Cassie, right? You work with Walter.”

“Right.” I’d seen Adrian Krom in meetings — the emergency-ops guy sent by the feds — and a few times in the Ski Tip cafe, where everybody in town gathers at one time or another. I’d never actually spoken with him. I said, “Hello Adrian.”

“Adrian, good. Some people call me Mr. Krom. I hate the formalities.” He folded his arms, still in a crouch. “I prefer to be chums.”

It struck me that he was like Georgia, insisting on first name only. Maybe it was a politics thing.

“Cassie, tell me if that’s Georgia. Have we lost our mayor?”

Ours? Adrian Krom has been in town only two months. We looked in unison at the snow-packed body bag, and I nodded.

“Hell,” he said, voice thickening. He bowed his head.

All I could see was his brown pelt of hair. I hesitated, then patted his shoulder. He reached up and grasped my hand. After a decent interval, I slipped my hand free. He came out of his crouch and stood, looking down at me. “You know what Georgia would say right now?”

I thought, this guy likes his drama. I got to my feet. “What?”

“We’re all in this together.”