Deputy Anderson had been in law enforcement for over twenty years, the last two serving as the resident deputy for Hope’s View, Nevada. The job was quieter than her work in Las Vegas and Reno, which was a welcome change. Most of her time was spent patrolling the roads both in and outside of town, where she would have to frequently scare the high school kids who liked to drink beer and party out by the hoodoos. Occasionally, she’d encounter drug deals or prostitution along the lonelier roads, but nothing that couldn’t be resolved with words. She hadn’t had to draw her gun once since settling in town. So, it was quite a shock when she awoke to fists pounding at her front door, and the loud murmurings of a crowd that stretched across her front yard and out onto the road. When she opened the door, all eyes fell on her. She scanned the frightened glances of her friends and neighbors until her view settled upon the one who had been knocking, Mayor Charles. “Deputy,” he said, nodding his head. He was a man in his sixties, though notoriously cagey about saying exactly where he fell in that bracket. His hair was thinning on the sides, and the top of his head was bald and shiny enough to reflect the light of the rising sun into Allison’s eyes. “Mayor.” He nodded again in response to her greeting and looked over at the crowd, as if he had just noticed them. His eyes came back to Allison, and he took a step towards her door. “I take it you haven’t turned on the television.” Allison hesitated for a moment before retreating into her doorway and making for the living room. Mayor Charles took this as an invitation and followed her inside, offering words of reassurance to the crowd as he closed the door behind him.
They sat down on the couch, the mayor glancing nervously around the room at Allison’s sparse décor. Mass produced landscape portraits of mountains and wilderness, with nothing so much as hinting at desert. She stared intently at the message on the screen, as if trying to puzzle out its meaning. “Has anyone seen the barricade?” The mayor perked up at this, turning to face Allison. “Yes, some people have even tried to approach but they’ve all been turned back. Mr. Conners has told about half the town that the men are all armed and are refusing to say anything to anyone that isn’t already said in this message.” Allison pulled her phone out and tried to call the Sheriff’s station, but the call wouldn’t even give the impression of a single ring, just silence. She tried again and then tried to pull up the internet. Nothing came up other than the lone cowboy game. The words “Tap to Start” seeming almost hostile under the circumstances. “I’m going to get my uniform and see if they might tell me something.” She stood and began heading towards the hallway stairs. As she moved, Mayor Charles stood and began to speak. “I’ve got my assistant spreading the word that we are holding a town hall tonight. I think it would be good for you to speak.” Allison looked back at him from the bottom step. “Might give people some comfort.” She thought it over for a moment before nodding in agreement. “If you don’t mind seeing yourself out, I’m going to get ready.” She began walking up the stairs without waiting for an answer but heard the front door closing as she laid out her uniform on her bed.
It was only a five-minute drive from her house to the closest exit point from the town, but she didn’t start there. Instead, Allison took the outermost roads leading around the town and observed the desert. Hope’s View was just over five square miles, neighbored by some private ranching and federal land. Despite the small size, it would still take a sizable force to literally surround the town. Fortunately for their wardens, Hope’s view had long, clear lines of sight around most of its borders. So, while she only saw a half dozen armored trucks and around a dozen armed people clad in yellow cloaks, she didn’t doubt that they were covering the whole perimeter. Then, there were the hoodoos to the west of town. The large spires that were the closest thing the town had to a tourist attraction. While not many people ever tried to climb them, Allison gathered that you could easily see over the whole town from the top. As she turned onto the closest road passing them, she saw two yellow clad figures atop the spires. While she couldn’t make them out very clearly, she was almost positive that they were holding sniper rifles.
Her tour of the town’s perimeter had taken just shy of twenty minutes, and now Allison was heading down the main road out of town. The right lane was congested with cars all the way back into the downtown blocks. She knew the traffic would mostly be made up of commuters who had planned on their usual morning drive to Tonopah or Pahrump. Allison turned on her vehicle’s siren and emergency lights and rode the left lane down the mile or so to the official border of the town. The road stretched on for another five miles before joining the highway, but the armored car and two men in yellow cloaks, both armed with what looked to be military grade rifles stood right at the border. Allison didn’t really have anyway to differentiate the men, as they were around the same height and completely covered in their cloaks. The cloaks looked almost like modified biohazard suits, consisting of one piece that covered the legs up to the neck, and a long scarf that wrapped around the shoulders and formed a makeshift hood. Some additional fabric hung down to form a short cape that went down to their elbows. Beneath the hood was a black gas mask with tinted eye lenses that matched the black combat boots the men wore. She began to slow as she approached the blockade, and one of the men, the one to the left, had begun to move in front of her car, lifting his hand into a stop gesture. She noticed that the palm of his gloved hand was black, likely made of a polymer material to help grip his gun. Allison stopped but kept the emergency lights on as the man approached. She had planned to get out, but the man positioned himself directly in front of her door, gesturing with his free hand to roll the window down. She did. “Hi, I’m Resident Deputy Anderson.” The man looked away as she began to speak, making eye contact with the other guard, who gave a nod. The man looked down at Allison. “Deputy, your town is under strict quarantine, as per the message.” Allison began to suspect that she might be speaking with a woman, but it was hard to tell as their voice was slightly modulated by the speaker in the gas mask. “Nobody is allowed past the barricade, either going in or out of Hope’s View.” A slight pause, “Other than us, of course.” Allison looked over at the other guard, who now seemed completely uninterested in her presence, their focus entirely on the line of cars in front of them. “Your message doesn’t state who authorized the quarantine. Is this from the Governor’s office, or a health officer?” The yellow clad figure stared down at their feet, rocking slightly back and forth. “No, no, I’m afraid it goes higher than the state.” Allison lowered herself slightly to try and meet their gaze. “Then who? The White House?” They stopped rocking but otherwise gave no indication that they even heard Allison’s last guess. Then, they reached into a pouch on their left hip and produced an envelope. “Give this to the mayor. Have him read it at the town hall if he thinks it will help keep the people calm.” Allison took the envelope and looked it over for any kind of seal indicating a department or office, but it was just a plain yellow envelope. “I’m sorry this is happening, but none of us are at liberty to share anything else with any of you.” The woman leaned forward, placing her left hand on the roof of the car. “This is a very serious matter. And the people are going to need you to help keep order while this all plays out.” Allison sank back in her seat, staring into the dark lenses that made up the woman’s eyes. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, then the women stood up, tapped the top of Allison’s cruiser three times, and began walking back towards the blockade. “Take it easy, deputy.”
Hotel for Ghosts 