Night of the Crane | By @WendyyWolfe

6. The Brown Jug

Immediately after jumping the short, chain link fence at the corner of the fieldhouse the five men gathered together quietly and looked around to make sure there were no guards patrolling this far out.

It seemed clear and they relaxed momentarily to get their bearings.

Macallan hunched down and everyone followed suit whispering among themselves. Two of the men were from a neighboring county and they only had plans to go back there. The other man who introduced himself as James, said his truck was parked at the bottom of the hill and he was simply going back to Brew Town.

"Why would you go back there?" Macallan asked. "It's not safe," he added thinking about the strange anomaly of Deputy Story.

"I have my apartment there," James answered. "You know the Brown Jug Bar?"

Macallan nodded as recognition washed over him and he smiled. "I thought I knew you! You're the bar-back aren't you?"

"Yeah," James nodded.

"I guess you know us then," he said with a smile looking at Dylan.

"Mm hmm, yea," James grinned. "I know you've cost Jonna a pretty penny more than a few times."

"Sooo, not to change the subject," Dylan interjected, "but are we gonna get outta here. Because no matter where we end up we gotta ways to go."

"Well if y'all are heading back to town lemme give you a lift, my truck is just down the hill."

"Alright let's go," Macallan agreed.

The other two men who never even gave their names waved and took off into the night heading up the lane that led out of town.

Macallan, Dylan and James hit the same road but went down the hill keeping to the same field he and Dylan had come through earlier.

They reached a stand of trees where James had parked and the three of them piled in the front seat.

Dylan, who had been rendered temporarily mute with fear after seeing a very much alive Deputy Storey finally found his voice as they drove along the deserted road.

"I think we should plan to go back to the high school in the morning and listen to the Mayor's Press Conference," he announced firmly.

James reached down into the side pocket of his truck door and pulled out a narrow decanter of whiskey, speaking as his twisted the cap off.

"Yeah, that press conference. It ain't gonna happen," he said taking a long swig from the bottle before offering it to Macallan.

Macallan grabbed it and took a long swig himself letting the icy yet warm liquor burn a path down his throat appreciating the respite on his frayed nerves. He passed the bottle to Dylan who waved it away and Macallan went ahead and took the proffered chug and gave the bottle back to James who took another drink and continued his explanations.

"That's why the three of us were trying to leave earlier. I overheard something," he admitted quietly. "I'm an army veteran so the guys at the school didn't think much of me being around as they discussed the situation. The Mayor was air lifted out of town and," he paused to take another nip of whiskey, "he won't be coming back tomorrow."

Macallan whistled a low, 'whewww,' shaking his head at the absurdity.

"I saw no reason to stay at the school."

"Did the other guys with you also know this?" Macallan asked.

"Yes. I told them. I would have told everyone if I thought they'd listen," James said waving the bottle of whiskey, "but I just had the feeling that it would start a damn riot or something."