Private investigators Lady NightRaven and She-Wolf drove down the old highway, Lady NightRaven staring into the dark and She-Wolf tapping a claw on the armrest.

“You know,” She-Wolf said, “When you said we were starting a private investigation firm, I thought we’d be investigating, you know, supervillains.”

“So did I,” Lady NightRaven said, “But, we need to put food on the table. And this is paying work.”

“I didn’t think you ate food,” She-Wolf said, “Heard that all your organs shut down.”

“And my blood curdled, and my teeth grew into fangs, yes I was there for that,” Lady NightRaven said, “You know, just once I’d like to forget.”

“Sorry,” She-Wolf said, “I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s fine,” Lady NightRaven said, “It’s just- Money has been tight lately. I have enough stress without people calling me a vampire.”

“Well, I brought an audiobook,” She-Wolf said.

“What is it?” Lady NightRaven asked.

“Classic sci-fi,” She-Wolf said, “I guess it’s a space opera? Some kid learns that his dad is evil, raises an army, dudes shoot guns in space.”

“Sounds good,” Lady NightRaven said, “Play on.”

…

She-Wolf’s economy car turned into the parking lot. Police had already cordoned off the wreckage and set up flood lights to illuminate the late night. Houses had been ripped apart, a redwood had been felled, and what looked like a radio tower had been pulled from its foundations and turned into scrap metal.

“What happened here,” She-Wolf said, gawking at the destruction.

“Ladies,” an officer said, “Detective Morrison. We were hoping to get your input on this.”

“Any CCTV footage?” Lady NightRaven asked.

“Destroyed along with the offices,” the detective said.

“Tire tracks?” She-Wolf asked, “It looks like you’d need some heavy equipment to do this.”

“No tire tracks,” Morrison explained, “But what we did find is footprints. This way. I’ve got a few guys trying to track down the shoe tread, but that’s going nowhere fast.”

“So, the culprit entered from the forest,” She-Wolf said, “Attacked the radio tower, and then what? What direction did they leave?”

“Southeast, back into the forest,” Morrison said, “From there, the trail gets lost in the underbrush.”

“What did this place track?” Lady NightRaven asked, “It wasn’t just a radio tower, was it?”

“Official records say seismic activity,” Morrison said, “An outpost to track Tremortis.”

“Who’d be crazy enough to knock that over?” She-Wolf asked, “Tremortis has destroyed entire cities!”

“Doesn’t Tremortis work alone?” Lady NightRaven asked, looking down at the footprints.

“Until now, apparently,” Morrison said, “We’re trying to get in touch with the friends and family of the researchers here, but nobody's answering. We haven’t found any bodies, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“These tracks,” Lady NightRaven said, “You know it’s multiple people?”

“Yes,” Morrison said, “Walking in single file, but there are smaller prints inside of larger footprints. Another set of footprints enters from the West, and there’s some sort of struggle close to the radio tower.”

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She-Wolf and Lady NightRaven took in the scene of the struggle. This was where the single file line had broken into a fight, according to the thin, shallow lines drawn all across the ground, a bunch of snakes. One mark stood out to Lady NightRaven, a square of compact dirt roughly the size of a quart sized milk jug.

“What is that?” Lady NightRaven asked.

“No idea,” the detective said, “I was hoping you’d have some answers.”

The imprint in the ground wasn’t the right shape to be a fist, Lady NightRaven tested her own against it. The ground was also too soft for some sort of bipedal machine, and if it was a machine, there would be more than one print on the ground.

She-Wolf stared at the set of tracks that entered from the West. There was a deep groove in the forest floor there with light burn marks around it. She looked from the tracks to the fallen redwood. There was one set of footprints set deeper into the ground, a standing long jump. She could make it to the other fight in a standing long jump, not across the clearing and into the redwood. Someone here was very strong.

“Are you picking up any scents?” Lady NightRaven asked.

She-Wolf took a long, deep breath.

“Sweat,” she responded, “Oil. Earth. Humans. Something that smells sort of like a human. Something else. Another something else. Venison. Ash.”

“Venison?” Lady NightRaven asked.

“Yeah,” She-Wolf said, “They cooked it.”

“So, what’s the plan?” detective Morrison asked.

“Well, I don’t want to go wandering around the woods looking for whoever did all this,” Lady NightRaven said.

“Do you have a list of supervillains on the loose?” She-Wolf asked.

“Sure, I can send you a report,” Morrison said.

…

The drive back was going to be a long one, and the sun was rising in She-Wolf’s eyes.

“So,” She-Wolf said, pausing the audio book, “Do we keep the case?”

“What?” Lady NightRaven asked, peeking out from a blanket, “Ugh, sure I guess.”

“You guess?” She-Wolf asked.

“Hey, it’s late for me,” Lady NightRaven said, “But yes, we should keep the case. It’s paying work.”

“Do you want to think of an investigation plan?” She-Wolf asked.

“Can’t I rest for a bit longer?” Lady NightRaven asked.

“Hey, we both know you don’t actually need sleep,” She-Wolf chided, “A week ago, you stayed up till noon just because the blinds were closed.”

“Sure, but now all I have is a blanket,” Lady NightRaven said, “And look, I’ve never tested if sunlight kills me, and I’m not going to. I want to sleep.”

“Why not just test that?” She-Wolf asked, “Seems like it might be convenient.”

“Hey, great idea,” Lady NightRaven said, “You have regeneration, why don’t you test if eating a live grenade kills you. It might be convenient.”

“Alright, alright,” She-Wolf said, “Go back to sleep, I won’t bother you.”

She-Wolf played the audio book and tried to run investigation plans in her head. There were at least four different people, judging by the scents. One of them had super strength, and the burn marks meant there was probably a pyrokinetic among them. Except only the ground was scorched, none of the offices were burned. Maybe someone kept the pyrokinetic busy? but…

But was that it? The only clue she had to follow was a direction, Southeast. A group of strangers wander through the woods, absolutely trash a radio tower, and leave. None of the friends or family of the workers were responding to calls. Someone could have flown them out, but who would fly over to rescue, or kidnap, and bunch of seismologists?

Southeast. Well, as long as they were on the case, they’d be getting paid. Which was nice. They’d also need to compile a list of suspects and be able to present results on a regular basis. She-Wolf wasn’t sure how to do that. Well, she could write up a list of possible suspects, people who fit the bill of super strength and worked in groups. Tracking down supervillains was never easy. She’d also need a line of questioning better than “were you wandering around the woods and knocked over a radio tower?” She could trust her sense of smell for finding who was the culprit and who wasn’t, but She-Wolf doubted that Morrison would accept “a smell that only I can smell” as evidence.

“Even if it’s totally accurate,” She-Wolf grumbled.

How far could they have gone? Just because there weren’t tire tracks, didn’t mean they didn’t take a car. Or some kind of helicopter. She could follow their scents through the forest, that might lead to something. She-Wolf didn’t think a group that could do that would just be camping out in the woods, and if they drove or flew out then she’d need to broaden her search.

Groceries! Ugh, she needed to write up a grocery list as well. And the van needed to be set up if they were going to track down these people. And make a map of nearby laundromats. And gas stations. And check local vagrancy laws to see if they could sleep in the van or they needed a hotel room. And make a map of nearby hotels.

The lists went on and on.