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Rural Mail Carrier Ezran Fell pulled up to the road block in his battered - but reliable - hatchback, trying to look casual as he draped his coat over the various tied off plastic bag on the passenger seat instead of the mail trays that would normal be stacked there.
The firefighter casually sauntered up to him as the officers looked on warily. With his top lights and magnetic decals and flimsy id badge, Fell was the boss at the moment, and the power imbalance made everyone unconformable.
Except maybe the firefighter, arms crossed on the car frame , leaning in though Fell's open window. Crowley pulled his shades down just a tad, so Fell could see him quite pointedly look at the suspicious like grocery bags he'd not quite hidden fully. and the jug of milk sitting on the floor.
"Morning Fell - how goes deliveries today?"
Honestly, Fell was just happy that Crowley was here today, instead so some of the other volunteers. not that he had any issues with the firefighters, but with the officers actually. and Crowley was about the only one that wouldn't just stand by ideally and watch him argue and be harassed by the law enforcement.
"Hopefully a quite morning, my dear man? Just planning on a quick pop in and out, if the Lord is willing..."
No one stops the mail. not even a road block.
But the fire department could strongly urge him not to enter for his own safety.
"Nothing moved overnight, but we're watching the west end next to route 4 closely. It's just a strong wind away from jumping, so if you can avoid it...."
The two had an arrangement. Only the mail or emergency services was allowed in, but they could not force anyone to leave. meaning a few people had hunkered down to wait it out. Crowley looked the other way if Fell brought in more than just mail, and Fell helped him keep tabs on who was still up there. As it was, Fell carefully slipped him an updated list. "I had two new mail holds, I'll confirm that the homes are empty today. I have one house for sure still on 4 still. older couple and a service dog. they moved the horses out before the block went up. Otherwise - there' the list for the other streets."
Neither was strictly legal, but it provided Crowley's team with a list of what houses to save first if it came to that. or at least what houses to slow the flames down long enough to convince the holdouts to leave. "Most of them have nothing else," Fell had explained to him once, "No family, no money, no ties to anywhere but here. And... many of them are older Crowley. they don't believe they have the strength of will to start over again. they plan to go down with the ship if it comes to that."
"Burning alive is not a good way to go, Fell."
"I know dear. but... fear makes people choose quickly, and then they just .... changing that choice is hard."
Crowley can't stop the mail. He can't stop fell from driving into Hell on earth - the smoke clouds thick int he air, the ash raining down as he puts his mask back on as Fell rolls up his window. Officer Messenger has the barricade pulled aside to let him past, and soon he's swallowed up by the smoke.
He'll pull the mail out of the boxes that have called in a hold, bring it back to the post office. He'll drive up a few of the longer driveways to check that the houses tucked away in the woods are still standing and mark them on the list he prints everyday. Mail and milk and bread and other essentials are dropped off at the doors of the few people left, and he does a welfare check on each one, refusing to leave until they've at least verbalized to him that everyone is still alive - although most will come out and talk for a few minutes before insisting her hurries on his way to not get trapped int he ever changing line of fire in the twisted back mountain roads.
A handful of hours later, he's back to the road block. By this time, they'd been a changing of the guard and it's new faces, most of them tired and unfriendly. They don't like that he goes in everyday (but Sunday), one more liability they have to keep track of. but. by law they cannot stop him.
And sometimes... sometimes he gets one of the holdouts to follow him down.
The firefighter casually sauntered up to him as the officers looked on warily. With his top lights and magnetic decals and flimsy id badge, Fell was the boss at the moment, and the power imbalance made everyone unconformable.
Except maybe the firefighter, arms crossed on the car frame , leaning in though Fell's open window. Crowley pulled his shades down just a tad, so Fell could see him quite pointedly look at the suspicious like grocery bags he'd not quite hidden fully. and the jug of milk sitting on the floor.
"Morning Fell - how goes deliveries today?"
Honestly, Fell was just happy that Crowley was here today, instead so some of the other volunteers. not that he had any issues with the firefighters, but with the officers actually. and Crowley was about the only one that wouldn't just stand by ideally and watch him argue and be harassed by the law enforcement.
"Hopefully a quite morning, my dear man? Just planning on a quick pop in and out, if the Lord is willing..."
No one stops the mail. not even a road block.
But the fire department could strongly urge him not to enter for his own safety.
"Nothing moved overnight, but we're watching the west end next to route 4 closely. It's just a strong wind away from jumping, so if you can avoid it...."
The two had an arrangement. Only the mail or emergency services was allowed in, but they could not force anyone to leave. meaning a few people had hunkered down to wait it out. Crowley looked the other way if Fell brought in more than just mail, and Fell helped him keep tabs on who was still up there. As it was, Fell carefully slipped him an updated list. "I had two new mail holds, I'll confirm that the homes are empty today. I have one house for sure still on 4 still. older couple and a service dog. they moved the horses out before the block went up. Otherwise - there' the list for the other streets."
Neither was strictly legal, but it provided Crowley's team with a list of what houses to save first if it came to that. or at least what houses to slow the flames down long enough to convince the holdouts to leave. "Most of them have nothing else," Fell had explained to him once, "No family, no money, no ties to anywhere but here. And... many of them are older Crowley. they don't believe they have the strength of will to start over again. they plan to go down with the ship if it comes to that."
"Burning alive is not a good way to go, Fell."
"I know dear. but... fear makes people choose quickly, and then they just .... changing that choice is hard."
Crowley can't stop the mail. He can't stop fell from driving into Hell on earth - the smoke clouds thick int he air, the ash raining down as he puts his mask back on as Fell rolls up his window. Officer Messenger has the barricade pulled aside to let him past, and soon he's swallowed up by the smoke.
He'll pull the mail out of the boxes that have called in a hold, bring it back to the post office. He'll drive up a few of the longer driveways to check that the houses tucked away in the woods are still standing and mark them on the list he prints everyday. Mail and milk and bread and other essentials are dropped off at the doors of the few people left, and he does a welfare check on each one, refusing to leave until they've at least verbalized to him that everyone is still alive - although most will come out and talk for a few minutes before insisting her hurries on his way to not get trapped int he ever changing line of fire in the twisted back mountain roads.
A handful of hours later, he's back to the road block. By this time, they'd been a changing of the guard and it's new faces, most of them tired and unfriendly. They don't like that he goes in everyday (but Sunday), one more liability they have to keep track of. but. by law they cannot stop him.
And sometimes... sometimes he gets one of the holdouts to follow him down.
