The wind had grown colder.
The overcast sky pressed low against the mountains.
Across the valley, the water treatment plant remained dark.
The county truck's emergency lights were dead, and neither Danner nor his companions seemed able to establish contact through their ordinary radios.
From the equipment shed came another burst of static.
Then the frightened voice returned.
“Laurel Ridge backup, this is school transport seven. We have twenty-three students aboard. We're stopped before the east approach to Miller's Crossing. Dispatch isn't answering.”
The message ended with a sharp crackle.
Danner looked at me.
“Do something!”
I stared at him.
He'd spent the previous half hour calling me stupid.
Threatening the farm.
Laughing at Grandpa.
And now he wanted me to become responsible for an emergency I had no authority or training to manage alone.
I remembered Grandpa's voice.
Knowing how something works doesn't mean you should touch it alone.
So I answered carefully.
“I can show you where the emergency procedure is posted.”
Danner stepped toward me.
“Then show me!”
“First, move away from the pipe.”
He glanced at the enormous iron flange.
“Why?”
“Because if someone turns that valve, the water supply to the generator could change.”
Russell Gentry looked toward the equipment he'd been preparing to unload.
Then he slowly put it back in the truck.
Danner glared at him.
“What are you doing?”
Russell didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, “I'm not dismantling anything during a countywide communications problem.”
Danner's face reddened.
“I gave you an order!”
Russell looked toward the equipment shed.
“There's an emergency call coming through.”
“That's not your decision.”
Russell swallowed.
Then spoke more firmly.
“With respect, sir, we don't have a written work authorization for immediate removal, and we don't know what this equipment supports.”
For a moment, Danner looked ready to explode.
Then another radio message came from the shed.
A woman was speaking now.
Her voice trembled.
“There's a downed utility line ahead of the bus. We haven't touched anything. The driver has kept the children inside. We need emergency services and the electric utility.”
My stomach tightened.
Miller's Crossing was a narrow road beside a steep wooded slope.
I knew it.
Grandpa had taken me fishing near the bridge when I was younger.
The road curved sharply before reaching a small crossing over a creek.
If a utility line was down along that approach, the driver would need professional assistance before moving the vehicle.
Danner stared toward the shed.
Then looked back at me.
“Get inside.”