The E! news van had reproduced.
There were satellite trucks for three local network affiliates parked alongside the road, one with the satellite array dispatched up towards the sky. In addition to cars and trucks and a few more vans, one lonely county sheriff’s car was parked on the same side of the road as the other vehicles, the north side, opposite our driveway.
It wasn’t like there were hundreds of people in the middle of the road. There were a couple dozen, and once you separated the regular people from the crews it wasn’t all that an impressive showing. The thing of it was that there ordinarily weren’t any people in the middle of East Jennings Road. The most feet that ever trod upon it was when a farmer might be moving cattle from field to field and used the road as a shortcut for just a bit.
A couple of signs were held up. The ubiquitous reference to the book of John, another regarding the Apocalypse, and then the newly familiar one, calling for remembering Kip Arnett.
Ruth Arnett stood back from the crowd, well off the road, stationed on the incline on the field belonging to Skinny Arbogast. A few lawn chairs and backpacks belonging to others sat on the field, too.
The school bus braked to a full stop.
I was already standing right behind Pat’s seat.
No one made a beeline for the bus. It would only take one person though. All that held them back was a single solitary deputy.
“You might want to look out,” drawled Pat. He pointed at the various reporters and their cameramen. “They look like they’ve been salivating a while.”
And...the initial Lucid cover sketch courtesy Jenny Dayton.