The place, as it turned out, was the Hutchins farm. Old man Hutchins, Daryl, Mark's father, stood at the entrance way to his property with a shotgun loaded with solid slug rounds. When Isaka’s family pulled up in their truck, Daryl stopped them with a wave of his hand.

“Hey there bob, thanks for coming.” Daryl said as he put the shotgun down and shook Isaka’s fathers hand through the rolled down window.

“Good to see you Daryl. I’m sorry to hear about your son. Mark was a good man.” Daryl's eyes were already red and puffy, but they shone with a light of thanks at her fathers words. Her father didn’t often speak, being a pathological introvert. Words were practically torture for her father. It's one reason he usually kept one of his daughters or wife around when dealing with other people.

“That means a lot coming from you Bob. Just head right in, you can park by the barn that’s where the meeting is going to be. The wife already has some lemonade ready, and coffee for anyone that needs it.” Her dad nodded, flashed a smile at Daryl and then pulled onto the Hutchins property.

“So, bob.” Her mother teased from the back seat. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Isaka smirked, her fathers name was Byakusei, meaning white or sacred. It was a bit of a joke from Isaka’s grandfather as he had married a white woman. But it was also an attempt to remind her father of the family's ties to some ancient shrine back in Japan.

People around the basin had a really hard time saying it right. So, they just all called him bob. Her own mother hadn’t known Byakusei was his real first name until she saw it on their marriage certificate. It was a game between the two of them, one that Isaka didn’t really like watching. No one gets used to their parents' odd ways of flirting, or ever wants to see it. Still she supposed it was cute, in a weird, inside joke kind of way.

“Yes.” Her father smiled to himself, before a bit of melancholy washed the moment away. “He needed it.” He pulled up next to the barn and parked. Inside, the barn was lit as brightly as day, dozens of people were talking with each other, sitting and waiting for the meeting to start, reading news, or doing one of a dozen other things that Isaka was curious about.

“Lary, how are you!” Her mother yelled, as she pulled the entire family along towards a small group of very tall, very blond, and very buff farmers from the other side of the basin. Where her father was nearly categorically mute when forced to interact with others, Isaka’s mother was the exact opposite.

“We are doing well, Sharyl. How are you little sis?” The overly large man said as he turned away from his wife and towards his older sister. This was the other side of Isaka’s family. The Stones. They were blond giants hailing originally from Norway. Much like Isaka’s Japanese side they had emigrated from their homeland to the US, took one look at the noisy overcrowded cities of New York and Boston, lost their native accents, and then migrated again out west finally settling in the Uintah Basin. Surrounded by trees, yearly brush fires, constant drought, a lot of arable farmland, and even more mormons, the two families had become fast friends. They had always watched out for each other while living on opposite sides of the basin, which had made Isaka’s mother and fathers match as practical, as it was natural.

“I’m good. Did you hear about what happened to Isaka?” Her uncle frowned, his two dark blond eyebrows knit together in concern.“No. What happened?” He looked to Isaka and waited for an explanation. Isaka sighed, and opened her mouth to respond, when her mother started in on the story. As her mother socialized with extended family, Isaka searched the crowd and found the Sheriff.

“I’ll be right back.” She said and a few of her family waved or smiled at her as she left. “Sheriff?” She asked as she got closer.

“Yes? Oh, hello Isaka. How is everything? Are you doing alright?”

“I’m more concerned about you. Why is your arm in a sling?” He winced and she frowned.

“Got it dislocated. Lost a wrestling match with a group of hells angels came through town yesterday. Should heal up by tomorrow I think.”

“We need to get you more help, you can’t be doing all this on your own.” The sheriff opened his mouth to respond, but someone cut in.

“I agree Hershal. I’ve been telling you that for weeks now.” A tall, brown haired woman with a slightly stocky but not overweight build said, as she came up behind her husband. “I’ve been trying to get him to find more help, or ask the state to send a few of their men out this way. Just till things calm down. But he refuses.”

“It's not just about your pride, sheriff, the entire basin needs help. Our farm got broken into yesterday. Thankfully it was just some homeless people from out of Provo looking for food, and we helped them. But the general lawlessness needs to stop.” Isaka shook her head sadly. “We can’t have another Mark.” The sheriff was about to respond when his wife spoke up.

“Couldn’t agree more. We need a unified multi-county approach. The cities, towns, and county governments need to pool their resources and start training officers up as quickly as they can. I know Vernal has two officers who are at least level five. Roosevelt has three, or so the rumor goes, and the sheriff of Dagget county has some kind of training ability that can help get people up to speed.”

“Okay ladies, thank you for laying everything out for me. I know. We all know okay?” The sheriff finally got through. He shook his head and fought from laughing. “I swear, if we could harness yalls stubbornness we wouldn’t have any problems at all.” Isaka blushed and looked away realizing that she had kept talking over the man. But his wife wasn’t having any of it.

“It's not stubbornness Hershal. It's fear.” She hugged him. “I'm worried about you. You can only do so much on your own.”

“I know honey” He hugged her back with his one good arm. “Us Barns are tough, but I think you’re right. It's time we get some help. I actually put in the request for state aid a few days ago, we’ll see if it comes through. Until then we need to get something local organized. That actually brings up something I've been meaning to ask you, Isaka.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you be willing to tell everyone about what happened at the gas station a few days ago?” Isaka thought about it. She really didn’t like public speaking. She might not be as insular as her father, but she definitely wasn’t a social queen bee like her mother. “It would be a lot more powerful if a survivor of one of these attacks spoke tonight instead of Sheriff Barns just giving another example.”

“Alright, I will.”

“Thank you darling.” The stocky Ms. Barnes said. “That means a great deal. We’ll get started shortly. You might want to get your family to their seats.”