1

Daniel closed the door behind Royce and Erica. After interviewing Wilfred Johnson, they both looked exhausted.

Possibly because of the long hours, Daniel recognised emotional exhaustion. It was not a simple conversation to have with someone.

Talking about seeing Death up close or surviving death could go a whole myriad of ways, but more than anything, patience and empathy were important.

This is what Daniel lacked in certain situations. It made him uncomfortable, as he had been on both sides of the talk and hated both sides.

Royce and Erica sat in their usual seats.

'Good interview?' Daniel asked as hid his own relief at not having to go through that.

'Yeah, it was a lot,' Erica sighed.

'He thinks the man in black, our guy, is a god,' Royce informed.

'He is acting like one. The judge, jury and executioner.' Daniel pondered, 'He did save that man's life.'

'Any ideas on where he went? Check any of the other cameras in the area?'

'I did. Guy disappeared, like he was never there. It was impressive.' Daniel continued. 'I got news.'

'What news?' Erica questioned.

'My guy came through.' Daniel said as he handed out the printouts of Lambert's account records. 'That there are offshore account transfers from TL Inc to Oliver Harris.'

'Over the last twenty years,' Royce remarked.

'And when was Engrave created?'

'Twenty years ago.' Erica answered.

'Meaning?' Daniel probed.

'Taylor Lambert was a co-owner of Engrave.' Daniel asserted. 'They are pioneers in trans dimensional science but also dabble in weapons technology.'

'And what the fuck does that mean?' Royce asked.

'Glad you didn't try to palm that off that as something you indeed knew, or I'd have been jealous. Short answer: they are looking for other dimensions in our universe. While also being like Tony Stark, sticking their hands into every war going.' Daniel proclaimed.

'That, that can happen?' Erica questioned.

'Trans-dimensional science? Possibly. I mean, we exist, and we can do amazing things. Other worlds could be very real.' Daniel theorised.

'But what does this prove, Bridgewater? Did Taylor put money into Engrave? This doesn't mean anything. It is not something I can stick to and is tangible for this investigation.' Royce argued with obvious frustration. 'And I think the whole other world's theory isn't going to fly with these ever-growing murders happening right here in Preston.'

'Royce, Taylor and eleven other men were killed in a warehouse that he owned. That took orders on a manifest that was logged and then swiftly moved just before the attack, before our guy got there and did what he did. Payments which were off the books were protected.' Daniel challenged. 'You don't think that's worth something?'

'That's a lot of conspiracy theories right there, but we got no motive for our guy.' Royce refuted.

'You're looking for a bloody glove.' Daniel sighed

'Not just looking at Bridgewater. I need a fucking glove. The spotlight is on us. The town lost their favourite son. I need something we can nail our guy with. Not Engrave. I need the guy who threw you and Erica a thousand feet in the air and killed a host of robbers without touching them in the evening. We need to focus on this guy, Bridgwater. For fuck's sake.' Royce blustered, and all the tension was released from his body. 'I need some air.' Royce stood up and left his office.

Erica watched Daniel, who crossed his arms, looking more than pissed. 'I see something, this Engrave, they have real influence and control here. This man in black maybe drawn to them because of that.'

'Yeah, but why? We need to know why, and once we do, we can guess where he will be and what his plans may be. Right now, this man in black is a fucking phantom and we cannot, I cannot figure his next move.' Daniel admitted.

'We will figure it out. It is the early days, Daniel.'

'That's what's so fucking frustrating. We're here and that fucker is out there, and we can't do anything. We need to be more proactive.'

'And how do you suppose we do that?'

'That I need to figure out.' Daniel puzzled. 'Here's a lesson and you need to learn it quick.'

'And what's that?'

'Time is always of the essence.' He looked at her. 'It's always the enemy.'

2

Royce drove Daniel and Erica to the motel. It was late and was already early in the morning; it was Thursday.

There was not much conversation between the group. As soon as Royce had come back from his walk-out, he'd just said that unless another body dropped in the next twenty minutes, he needed to go home.

There was not much argument coming from Daniel and Erica.

Long roads and dark fields. That was most of Daniel's view of this part of the world. He would put brutal and bloody crime scenes in there too, but that was not fair. That was not Preston's fault. But unfortunately, now the other part of Daniel's brain would intrinsically link the two.

This was recency bias.

Royce pulled into the front of their apartments. Stopping the engine.

'Have a good night, Agents.'

They both returned the gesture getting out of the car.

Royce looked at Daniel, shaking his head as he got out of the car. 'Goddammit. Bridgewater.'

Daniel stopped, Erica looked back, but carried on her walk. She knew what this was. Male apologies. It was usually a marvel to watch. Would they just be blunt or skip around it? Would they just embrace each other? Unlikely. Normally, she would enjoy the dance, but she was tired and wanted her head to hit the soft pillows in her room. So she went in and shut her door.

Royce walked up to Daniel. 'Earlier, um.'

'Don't worry about it.'

'I don't snap. I used to be that guy, but I'm not that guy now.' Royce apologised. He gesturing to himself pleadingly.

'Look, it happens. It is a tough case. I try to look at all angles to see why our guy would do what he is doing.' Daniel explained. 'There is always a backstory. I do not believe that man just woke and went on a killing spree. His acts have meaning.'

'I know what you mean, and I know these things just don't just fall in our laps. Soon enough, I'm going to be brought into a room by the police chief, the DA and the mayor. I have to explain why the only lead is from a company that has injected twelve million into the local economy and has given our residents around a thousand jobs.' Royce said as he brushed his hand through his hair. 'Just need a break.'

'We'll get one.' Daniel said. 'Good night, Detective. Get back to your wife.' he started to walk to his door.

'I never actually apologised,' Royce said.

'You don't need to.' Daniel said this with his back turned to Royce. 'You remember that when I did something to piss you off?'

'You already have.' Royce said.

'Then we are even,' Daniel said as he opened the door.

'Night Bridgewater.'

'Night.' Daniel said, and he walked in and shut the door.

Royce smiled as he went back to his car, entered it, and started the engine. He again hoped his wife was asleep. He did not know how much of a good grace this would cover being out late again.

3

Daniel was still up. The body was a little tired, but the mind was very active. He sat at the desk, had his laptop open, and had more of the paperwork spread out in front of him. He watched the footage of the man in black threatening Marty Lange at the gun range.

He looked at the delivery manifests that Levi had found for him. Deliveries were sent over the last few weeks but were only marked as confidential.

Daniel yawned, and that even surprised him. Not often did he yawn, but he was human. He needed to remind himself of that.

He took out another file and opened it. There were pictures of a black family. The pictures were photographs taken by a Polaroid camera. They looked old; the family had nineties clothing, shell suits, filas, afros, and high tops. Daniel smiled for a few seconds, but like every smile he gave, it did not last long. The look of gloom and sadness was not far away. His thumb rubbed the picture of the family, and especially the thumb graced lovingly at the woman in the photograph. He looked mournful, but something caught his eye from the security footage. Something he never noticed before. The man in black kept his arm up, which held up Marty but pinned him to the wall.

Marty's other arm was pointed at something else. Somewhere else.

It looked like the man in black pointed outside of the office, not out the door, but at the wall.

Was he pointing at the clubhouse? One way to find out, Daniel thought, and he got up.

4

Daniel stepped out of the portal and was in front of the gun range. He walked in. There was no unit there and the police line had started to unravel and was soon to be no barrier to anything.

It has not been that long since Marty's death. They have moved on from this already, Daniel thought, and that thought disturbed him. That is influence, he guessed. Daniel went into the reception and into Marty's office. He stood where the man in black stood, or the best possible guess. Daniel raised his hand and pointed at the wall, and his irises turned grey.

His vision went through several walls and out into the fields, past the shooting booths, shooting mazes and assault courses. Past the seating area and outside bar and right to the clubhouse, where he met Oliver Harris for the first time.

Daniel nodded to himself. There we go.

He walked out of the office, past the staff room and kitchen, opened the fire exit door and walked into the back of the gun range. Daniel walked past all that he had seen before and went down the small slope down a hill towards the clubhouse.

As he got closer to the clubhouse, he sensed some commotion inside, but as he sensed, he felt no physical presence in there. He ran to the door and touched the door with his hands. The grey irises noticed that it looked like maps were disappearing into thin air from a box.

Maps? Daniel thought as he tried to open the door but could not. He looked surprised as he pulled the handle again, but it was being held by something powerful. Something he could not see but could feel.

He is here. The motherfucker is here.

Daniel looked around, trying as hard as he might to be looking around the sparse area at night. As he looked around, something flew past him and hit into the window, smashing the glass. Another thing flew past and hit the same spot. More things that looked like rocks in his view came inside. It may have been five rocks.

Daniel looked at the direction at where the rocks came from, but he could not see anyone. He then looked through the cracked window and saw what were not rocks but were grenades. Grenades with their pins already pulled.

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Daniel's eyes rose as the area erupted in a violent burst of flaming destruction. The force caused Daniel to be airborne for the second time in as many days. He did not fly as high, but it threw him several feet in the air and landed hard on the grass. Bits of fiery timber fell onto him and around him.

The blast winded Daniel, and he felt his chest as he coughed as he tried to get up. He felt like he was being choked, like an invisible grip had his neck in a tight hold. He was off the ground again, but this time, like in the forest, he was being held in the air.

The man in black walked up to him and stood right in front of him. Then he looked past him. The man in black sighed. 'No one's there.' He said in his deep voice. 'Those fucking maps are gone, too. Before I could get a chance to destroy them.' The man looked. This was a conversation that he had by himself, but he looked at Daniel, who struggled as he was held in the air. 'You are a hard man to kill, Agent Bridgewater. Are you like me? Were you violated too?'

'Violated? What do you mean?'

'Were you taken as well? You do not sound like you are from here, but I guess they can be everywhere. Were you taken?' The man in black asked Daniel.

'What the fuck do you mean? Taken by who?' Daniel said with his strangulated voice that struggled with any vowels.

'You really do have no clue.' The man laughed to himself and moved Daniel a little closer. 'Stay out of my way, Agent Bridgewater. All this has no concern for you, your partner, or that police officer, Drysdale. You can leave here alive or leave here dead. Just leave me to do this.'

'You know I cannot do that, you fuck. You know you won't be able to get away with this and when I get out of it,'

Daniel is flung into the night sky and then dragged back the ground at even more force. He slammed into the ground face-first and with great velocity. The ground shook a little as it slammed into it.

'You are extremely hard to kill Agent Bridgewater, but if you keep pushing, if you keep following and trying to stop me from what I need to do, make no mistake. I will find a way.' The man said as Daniel tried to get up, but he slumped to the ground and stayed still.

5

By the time Erica's cochlear communicator buzzed in her ear, she rolled over after a nice dream involving herself and Morris Chestnut. Her childhood crush. It was a replay of the scene in his first film role in Boyz in the Hood, where he played Ricky. A slow-motion, devastating run towards the camera. Erica was there in that scene, and she saved him. She did not care about the high-top haircut and the unusually tight jeans. Erica loved him regardless. Her eyes opened, and she had to blink a couple of times. Just to make sure that, yes, she was awake. The contactor continued to buzz, and she sighed. She pressed into her ear to answer.

'Chandler.' She said with a yawn.

She should have known what was going to be said. It had to be him. It had to only have been him.

'I'm on my way.' She spoke. 'Royce will get me. Patch me into his cell.' Erica waited a few moments and looked outside. The curtains were a little open and she could see that the sky had transitioned from night to dawn. Street lights were still on, and the world would be awake soon.

'Hey, you hear? He did it again.' Royce said.

'I know.' Erica wanted to give a deep theatrical sigh, one that would be noticed and commented upon. She wanted to tell Royce to leave Daniel where he was, but again, she was tired and moody Daniel Bridgewater interrupted that her time with Morris. 'Let's get him.'

'I'm on my way.' Royce said and soon left the call.

Erica got up, went into the bathroom, and had a quick wash of her face and armpits, not a full shower, as she knew how much of a fast driver Royce was. She squeezed some soap on her hands and rubbed her face. She looked at the soapy, tired mess of a twenty-five-year-old that she thought herself to be. It was a long stare, far longer than she had planned, but she looked at herself and wondered what my gift was.

She had seen a bulletproof, extremely fast, and incredibly durable Daniel Bridgewater do some amazing things. She did question why she was there and what it meant for her to be there.

Bolton told her that there was a reason she was there and that she would learn what she could do. People like them discovered new abilities well into the seventies and eighties. It just took time.

She thought she really wanted to know what, at least, the first proper ability was. Invisibility? Invincibility? Super Strength or Speed? Reading minds? She hoped for the last one so she could fly to Hollywood and meet Morris Chestnut.

She splashed water across her face, and she could feel the warm aqua illuminate her senses and felt good across her skin. The heating was on, so she could have stood naked in the room and been dry within minutes. But she thought against that as Royce drove like a demented NASCAR driver who thought his wife had cheated on him and wanted to catch her in the act. Plus, Royce seeing her naked was not the best way to start the day. She wanted Morris, and Morris was across the country, charming hearts, especially hers, all the way in Hollywood.

Erica got dressed and wore more comfortable clothes. Loose-fitting jeans, trainers that looked like boots, a white high-neck top, a black cardigan, and a grey hoodie. She wore that because she wanted to wear it, and that was good enough for her.

She put some conditioner on her hair and combed it through. This kept her hair straight and together and smoothed her front baby hairs down. She was happy that her mother's youthful genes spread to her.

When she was younger, she became annoyed that they looked like sisters instead of parents and children. But at present, she loved the fact that her mother looked twenty years younger than she was. Erica could look as young as eighteen without makeup and had to wear some to look her age.

She could be angry at Daniel for again going somewhere without her, and she could let him know about it, but she thought, What would that do?

He will continue to do it and it will continue to waste her time, energy, and actual breath to chastise him again. She also did not know, however, how she will act towards him: distant or caring? Aloof or furious?

This is what Daniel Bridgewater was like to someone who tried to get to know him. A limitless ocean of confounding and perplexing emotions.

Bolton did warn her about him and that his ability to be silent, deadly, and incredibly frustrating. That he made being a curmudgeon into an Olympic sport and made into pure art . It should have been enough to put her off, but she heard about the various exciting exploits and pulse-pounding adventures of Daniel Bridgewater. She just wanted to be a part of it. Any warning was just white noise in an ineffectual background.

A knock on the door.

Erica strapped her gun and holster to herself and checked her reloads on her belt. She looked at herself in the mirror in front of her.

You belong here. You are worth it, she thought to herself, and this was followed by a look of resolute determination. You belong here.

The door knocked again. Erica went to the door, opened it, and met Royce, who said, 'Good morning. Are you ready for another crazy day?'

Erica just smiled.

6

An icepack to the back of the head was all that was required for Daniel as more light emerged from the sky. This was a new day, but it was going to meet with the same old mess.

A female EMT held the icepack. Her name was Chantelle. She was a brunette, about five-six and wore bright red lipstick.

'You know I can hold the pack myself.' Daniel said to her:.

'I know.' smiled Chantelle, who completely ignored what Daniel said. 'I do love your accent. It's different to Idris's.'

Was Idris Elba the only black British guy women around here knew about? What about John Boyega?

'Where are you from?' Chantelle asked with genuine interest as more officers cordoned off the area. The sky cleared as the earlier smoke just floated away into the distance.

'North-West London.'

'That near Idris?'

'No, he is from East London.'

'What's North-West London like?' Chantelle asked again as she licked her lips and looked me dead in the eye.

'It is special. Like every other area in London, it has its own character. It's beautiful in its own way.' Daniel said that surprised even himself with how meaningful it sounded and felt to say.

'You miss it?' Chantelle said. 'The way you spoke there made me feel like you ain't been there in a while. It sounded kind of whimsical.'

It was at this point that Daniel wanted to sleep with Chantelle. There is nothing like using words like whimsical in a sentence and make it make sense. That was extremely attractive to him. 'Yeah, it's been a while.' He said, and he sounded deeper, more masculine. It looked like it did the trick as Chantelle played with her hair and one of her fingers touched his neck.

That was a sign.

Daniel had to remember, though, that all it would be was sex. No emotion required. If she asked any questions about how he felt after the act, she would be portalled out of his sight, but knowing that it was highly likely he would be seeing her again after more skirmishes and battles with the man in black, it would be better that he keep any relationship with any female EMT cordial.

That was good for you, mate, Daniel thought. Plus, if even tried to get with another woman, she would know. Larissa Bolton always knew when Daniel had entered into a sexual encounter. Like she put some invisible tracker on his penis. The woman always knew.

Royce and Erica made their way down the hill. Daniel was thankful, as it looked like Chantelle was about to use another big, unexpected word in front of him and he would be obliged to ask her out for dinner.

'Well,' Erica said with a smile and handed Daniel a coffee, 'You see what happens when you do this shit without me?'

Daniel comically shook his head.

'Fuck, Bridgewater, another day, another fucking crater.' Royce said as he looked at grassy ground that was pounded into a man-shaped crater, but the ground went into a line, went back to being grass and then another crater.

'There are two craters, Royce. Get your facts right.' Daniel said as Chantelle left, but they exchanged a glance before she left the three. She knew they were going to be talking about cop stuff and she did not need to be privy to it.

'Look at that; the man got the stuffing, knocked the fuck out of him and he's still making shitty jokes like a champ.' Royce joked.

'I got to look at the positives. I'm making my mark all over this town.' Daniel joked himself. 'You think they'll name something or somewhere after me once it is done?'

'They'll throw a fucking party for you once you're out of here, I'll tell you that, but if we stop that bastard, we may get a street named after us or something,' Royce said.

'Those were minutes I'm never going to get back,' Erica said aloud.

Royce leaned in. 'Did you mean to?'

'Yes,' Erica said, 'what happened?'

'It was him.' Daniel asked.

'I can see that,' Erica said. 'What happened to you? Do you see his face? What was in this clubhouse that got both you and him here at that moment?'

'Maps,' Daniel said as he put down the icepack. His head was fine, and the ringing had stopped.

Both Erica and Royce looked at him, confused.

'There were maps that, before that motherfucker threw grenades in, appeared and disappearing before the place blew up.'

'What else did you see? Royce asked.

'What else was there?' Daniel asked himself. He thought back; in his mind, a little fragment became clear. 'A table and chairs. That is all I remember.' He thought again. He remembered a certain detail of the chair at the top of the table. 'The main chair had two snake heads on it.' Daniel nodded to himself. 'Then it was grenades without pins and then I was in the air.'

'You were able to get in before you got blown up?' Erica asked.

'No, I tried to open the door, but I couldn't and I'm really strong.'

'How strong?' Royce asked.

'I have to always pull my punches or something terrible could happen.'

'What's that?' Erica asked.

'I could obliterate someone.' Daniel replied seriously.

Royce and Erica both laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of his statement. They admired the commitment to at least sound sincere.

Daniel looked at them both with seriousness. 'I am not joking.'

They stopped their laughter.

'I spoke to the man. He held me in the air again. I can't wait to get that fucker. I just can't wait.'

Royce asked. 'What did he say to you?

Daniel thought back to that as well. He remembered the man's questions as clearly as the sky above. 'He asked me if was the same as him. If I was taken and violated.'

'Violated?' Erica said, and they all looked confused.

'Yeah, that got me too.' Daniel said. 'I don't know, but he told me to stay away from him and let him do what he needs to do.'

'And you said?' Erica asked.

'I told him there's no way I'm just going to allow him to do that and well, then I was a few feet off the ground and then I was high in the air again.'

'You think it was a good idea to sass the man who was holding you above the ground?' Erica said.

'I am not scared of him. He got one thing right, Chandler. I am difficult to kill, and he is going to find that one first-hand.' Daniel said with intent. He stepped off the back of the ambulance. He leaned in and grabbed his jacket. 'We are going?'

7

Royce drove back to the police station and for once he did not drive like in some car chase. He was calm, considered, and even downright respectful to other drivers.

Erica liked this calm Royce. Daniel enjoyed the theatrics and was now annoyed that he calmed. He looked at the high coal mines that were to his right. The men and woman who he could see from a distance either filtering out or in.

Preston was coal country, high hills with what was black gold that they built industries on, and the town prospered with generations of success. Coal towns provided, but once that provision became compromised over the years by emerging other forms of energy. Companies from foreign lands that offered a much cheaper and more minimal risk. High-reward business plan that did not even involve towns like Preston any more. The companies left them high and dry. It was a local income that boded well for the local community, but once other option came into play,. The smell of cheaper success with profit margins meant bar graphs and tactical meetings decided that people's fates. Like with everything else, once the money goes, the hope is due next.

There were careers gone, new careers had to be forged and legacies had long dissolved. Legacy meant nothing if you could not put food on the table and bills came to you with red boxes and black bold letters.

Prideful was nothing compared to survival.

Still, from what Daniel saw in the people of Preston, Pennsylvania, it was those people that were strong. They were very much here, angry that money left, resource left, and opportunities left, but they were still making do with the best they got.

He admired the resilience.

'I want to do something I don't think I've done with you a lot before.' Daniel said.

'What? Tell us when you're going off to snoop around and not get into trouble?' Erica said.

'Apologise well for that.' Daniel said with sincerity.

'You serious?' Royce said.

'I am. Sorry. I just get these hunches and I just go on them and I do not think.' Daniel said, as Erica huffed. 'I earned that. Really not going to make a big fucking song and dance about it. Just saying sorry for it and the concern. Sorry.' The last part was hard to come out, but Daniel made it work.

Erica and Royce both smiled.

'Do you need us both to say you're forgiven or can we leave it as that?' Erica said.

'Please leave it as that. I am good. I can see that I am forgiven.' Daniel said, and he even laughed a little.

'So, what next?' Royce said.

'I was thinking of going to the other warehouses that Engrave own. Poke around and ruffle some fucking feathers.' Daniel said. 'How does that sound?'

'Sounds fucking good to me,' Royce said with noticeable exuberance.

'Let's do it.' Erica smiled.

'Alright.' Royce said as he was about to push the pedal down and reached for his siren when the police radio said his name.

'Detective Drysdale.' it was the voice of Roberts.

Royce picked it up. 'Yes, Roberts, how can I help?'

'You need to come to the station.'

'Well, we were about to go on a brief field trip.'

'We found a phone near the scene of the warehouse murders. I can't believe we fucking missed it. It was like it was just there,' Roberts said.

'A phone?'

'And you won't believe who's on the call log?'

'Who?'

'Oliver Harris.'

Royce looked at Erica, who looked at Daniel. 'We are on our way.'