In the Woods by Merry Jones

I’ve called around. Nobody admits to it, but what with everything else that’s going on, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s some of our own people raising hell.’
    â€˜No, can’t be.’ The chief lowered himself into a kitchen chair. ‘We agreed nobody would go off on their own.’
    â€˜I wouldn’t be too sure. People are pissed off. What with that shooting, the state cops are going to be here, blaming us. And the press. There’ll be fucking TV cameras and lights, and the gas company, the pipeline company – they’re all going to be here. Plus the woods are already crawling with weekenders. Josh is hopping mad.’
    â€˜Tell Josh to sit on it. He needs to stop parading around—’
    â€˜It’s not just Josh. Mavis and her people swear they won’t put up with more outsiders – she’s insisting that this is it, the invasion, and she’s telling everyone to gather up arms—’
    â€˜Shit,’ the chief said again. He rubbed his eyes. ‘Not again. Mavis and her pigtail vigilantes—’
    â€˜I know. But she’s just saying what the others are thinking.’
    â€˜I’ll talk to her. You think she set off a bomb out there?’
    â€˜Mavis? No. She’d have said.’ For a moment, Hiram didn’t go on. The chief heard him breathing. Hiram had a way of hesitating, as if he had to be a damned politician. Practicing tact.
    â€˜What? Tell me,’ the chief growled. He leaned on his kitchen table, messed with the salt shaker. Knocked it over. Spilled some salt. Damn. Wasn’t that bad luck? Weren’t you supposed to toss salt over your shoulder when you spilled it? But which shoulder? The chief had no idea. It was bullshit anyway. What was the deal with Hiram? What was he hiding? ‘Did you call a meeting like I told you?’
    â€˜I did.’ Hiram’s voice was edgy. Tentative. ‘But what I’m trying to tell you is that some of our people are fed up. They’re going off on their own—’
    â€˜Setting off explosions.’ The chief tossed salt over his left shoulder, then his right. ‘What else?’
    â€˜Lots of things. They’re launching a full-out campaign to clear the area.’
    â€˜Who are you talking about, Hiram? What kind of campaign?’ The chief simmered, felt his face heat up.
    â€˜You already know some of it.’
    â€˜Our deal is we all work together—’
    â€˜But you haven’t been around – no one could reach you. Meantime, people are running out of patience. They don’t want to wait for committees and discussions. They want the area cleared—’
    â€˜I don’t give a flying fuck what they want.’ The chief’s voice was soft, but his fist slammed onto the table. ‘Christ, Hiram. We all want the same thing. But we’re powerless unless we coordinate and work together. We have to think before we go off half-cocked …’ He stopped himself, took a breath. Scolding Hiram wouldn’t help. Besides, as a leader, he needed to remain calm and controlled.
    â€˜I agree. But you’re sector chief. You need to step up and remind them. Because they won’t listen to me.’
    Right. He needed to do that. But how could he if they were all splintering off, conducting their own little mini-wars?
    â€˜Tell me. Besides the explosion, who’s done what?’ He stood and went to the kitchen window, watching the trees, their red and golden leaves.
    â€˜You already know about Josh’s campaign—’
    â€˜Idiocy—’
    â€˜Listen. He was out this morning, doing his thing. And he found a guy.’
    â€˜What do you mean “he found a guy”?’
    â€˜I mean he took him.’
    What? Oh God. The chief sat again. ‘He took a guy?’ So it was Josh? Josh had shot that guy from the gas company? Damn. The chief closed his eyes, reminded himself that he