Jack County Demons by AK Waters, Vincent Hobbes Read Free Book Online Page B

an airplane's cockpit. There was a large monitor in front of her, and one on each side. On the screens were images from outside, from above the location of LT and his team. She clicked a button and instantly the picture changed. Below was a visual of the ground. Twisting a dial, the ground raced up, and the house and street below could be seen much better. "Any closer and they'll hear it," she protested. Then, she turned back, continuing to fly.
    Lopez flew the new est, state-of-the-art drone. It was the XV-17, a small, lightweight recon drone. It was twelve feet long, and seventeen feet wingtip to wingtip. The drone was pulled by a single prop engine, designed to remain quiet. It was nearly silent at seventeen hundred feet. Nearly.
    "I don't give a damn. Get closer," Jacobs said right back.
    Lopez shook her head but didn't argue. There was no point. Besides, this w as his mission. If he wanted to ruin it, so be it. "Roger," she replied. "Turning around for another pass. Lopez pushed the lever to her left forward, the engine of the drone whining now. Then, she pulled back on the stick, turning the drone up and to the left. Moments later it went into a dive. She held it for exactly seven seconds before leveling off. Next, Lopez instituted a wide turn, one that took several miles to accomplish.
    Six minutes later and she reported, saying, "Coming over target in thirty seconds."
    "We closer?" Jacobs asked.
    "Affirmative," she replied. We're at eleven hundred feet. Chances are they'll hear something."
    Jacobs nodded in angry satisfaction. He was always angry, it seemed. Then, he glanced back to an obscure desk. A man, Zinman, sat behind multiple monitors, sipping Dr. Pepper and eating Doritos.
    "Zinman, zoom and resolve."
    Agent Zinman replied, saying, "Roger, Commander Jacobs." He hurried, knowing the Commander wasn't a patient man. He clicked a few buttons and the screenshot on the wall screen grew fuzzy, then began to resize. The image got clearer. The image was closer, a detailed picture of below the drone now came into view. They could see everything clearly now.
    Agent Peters sat next to Lopez. He was always impressed with her flying, but at the moment, something else held his attention. He stood up from his desk, hands folded across his chest, and mumbled, "Jesus!"
    The live feed from the screen told a tale of horror.
    "Commander Jacobs, what happened?" Agent Peters asked in awe. "Th ey look . . . they look like they got mangled. It's almost as if some animal did it. See any dogs? Hell, see any lions?"
    Jacobs didn't respond to him. Instead, he ordered, "Zinman, launch the ot her two drones at once. I want them all in the sky right now. I want the team found at once."
    "Yes, sir," Zinman said quietly. He, too, was in shock.
    Jacobs continued to study the live feed before him. He scanned the surrounding streets and hou ses, seeing nothing of consequence yet. To himself, he muttered, "No cops. Not yet, anyway. Strange, though. All that gunfire and no response. Either there's nobody left, or everyone is too damn scared."
    Then, Jacobs looked again to Lopez, who was carefully flying the d rone with razor precision. The winds had picked up some, and she was fighting turbulence. This caused the camera to shake, and she did her best to steady it out.
    "I want you lower."
    "Sir?" she asked, turning toward him.
    "Lower. Eight hundred feet. I need you to run those cross streets, then the alleys. Look for signs of movement. Look for any traces of what happened. Blood trails, damaged property. Anything."
    "Yes, sir," she said, beginning to lower her altitude once more.
    Jacobs then looked at the other woman in the room. Agent Sandra Barnes. She was twenty-eight, athletic, and imposing. She was seated toward the front of the room, her back to the Commander. He raised her on his headset, saying, "Agent Barnes, I want you to place a call to the Sheriff's office. Keep it anonymous, and make it sound good. You're a concerned citizen, scared