One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 8, page 5

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Lawperson Séara Nulıpésha gazed straight down the highway, her hands firmly on the steering wheel. Her cruiser flew at 150 kilometers per hour, but it certainly wasn’t going to take an hour to get to the Kılímos’ house. It was far outside town, but not 150-kilometers far.

Her radio squawked. “This is Lawman Laparıpasamé. I have arrived at address 5430 East Crater Road. Three Colonial Enforcer vehicles at location, including one in the eastbound lane of traffic. Caution. Ambulance here also, in driveway by the house. No Enforcers or medics visible. Will locate and contact Enforcers. Out.”

Séara was still a few minutes from arriving. She knew this road well, having been driven by her mom to visit the Kılímos off and on throughout her younger years, when Pí‘oro taught her how to ride a horse. Those had been some of the best days of her childhood, when she and old Mr. Kılímo had gone riding across the desert, exploring kilometer after kilometer, investigating gullies, mesas, and hoodoo rocks all around Tuhanı.

Mrs. Kılímí had always stayed behind, preparing a grand meal for their return. Sometimes Séara’s mom helped Vata cook, and those were always the best dinners. They’d have barbecue pork ribs; spinach flatbread with spicy hummus; chopped peppers and okra and cabbage all fried up good; and beer that Mr. Kılímo sometimes sneaked Séara but her mom pretended not to notice.

Her radio squawked again. “This is Senior Lawman Vomıvé, en route to address 5430 East Crater Road. ETA, twenty minutes. All lawmen: follow Enforcer orders on this manhunt. Out.”

Séara checked her holster snap, clicking it open and shut twice. The murderer better not have hurt the Kılímos. Killing a police officer is enough to boil anyone’s blood, but when someone starts killing your friends, that’s when people get irrational.

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