Prologue — Dust

  "Breaking news this morning from the Olympic region. We've just received word that Rallstown—excuse me, Rallsburg—suffered a devastating fire last night. We bring you live footage from News Chopper 8, now approaching the area."

  "Why're we watchin' a local news channel, chief?" asked Jeremy Ashe, glancing up from his newspaper.

  "Something just happened to a tiny logger town. This is an hour ago," said Michael Aderholt. He paused the video. "You're gonna want to see this, Ashe."

  Please go away. "Sir. I've got cases I should be workin'."

  "No you don't. I assigned those cases, and it's Wednesday. You've got time."

  Michael leaned forward and snatched the paper right out of Jeremy's hands. He sat up, about to protest, but a sharp shake of the head from his partner Lani Makaio stopped him.

  "Now watch." Michael unpaused the video.

  "The town appears to have burned down overnight. Very few buildings seem intact."

  "What's that there, Chopper 8? The big church building."

  "Actually, Ted, that's a library. One of the oldest buildings in the town, in fact, nearly a century before the university was established. It looks like the gothic architectural style helped protect it against whatever happened here."

  "I didn't know you were an expert on local history."

  "Hang on, we're seeing something else…"

  "Okay, some town in the middle of nowhere burned down." Jeremy leaned back in his chair and yawned. "What does that got to do with us? Sounds like statie work."

  "We don't have jurisdiction on local affairs," Lani agreed. He looked just as bored as Jeremy, even if he was a bit more of a stick in the mud on most cases. If both of them thought this was a waste of time…

  "What the hell is that?"

  Jeremy looked back up again at the sudden outburst. Ted Winters never swore on camera. He was a consummate professional. When Jeremy saw the picture on the screen, an overhead view of a street in the town, he cursed under his breath too.

  "What is that?" Lani asked, leaning in closer.

  "Bodies," answered Aderholt triumphantly. He zoomed in on the paused frame.

  "Those are arranged," Lani said slowly. "All around one point. They were trying to get to something."

  Jeremy felt a chill down his spine. "Sir, what's going on?"

  "Well, we're about to get every resource we need to find out." Aderholt clapped his hands together eagerly. "We've got a real case, boys, and you two are next up."

  Jeremy grimaced. He was older than both of them. The excitement of a new case had long since been replaced by dread. Still, something about the frozen pile of corpses on screen disturbed him, and not just because it was a pile of dead people nominally under his protection—as tangential as that might be for an FBI National Security Branch agent stationed in the Pacific Northwest, where nothing ever happened.

  They all knew they were at the weak end of the Bureau, a small remote office of the station where they sent everyone they didn't need but couldn't get rid of. It disturbed him because for once, it might actually mean something. As much as he didn't want to believe it. "What makes you say that?"

  "The entire town was wiped out. Over two hundred dead. The story just broke two hours ago and we've already got groups claiming responsibility." Michael looked back at the screen eagerly. "Our station has the case. I'm about to call D.C. and ask for reinforcements. You two are heading over there right now to head off the locals."

  Jeremy reluctantly got to his feet. "Permission to speak, sir?"

  "When the hell has that ever stopped you, Ashe?"

  Not often enough. "Groups are always gonna claim responsibility. Everyone already knows about the story thanks to the internet. Is there anything conclusive to say they're responsible and that this is a national security matter?"

  "Of course not, but who gives a rat's ass? For now, we get to go in there and chase something more meaningful than meth heads and dealers crossing state lines between Washington and Oregon. We're the NSB. Isn't this what you signed up for? This is our big break."

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "Your big break," Jeremy muttered.

  "Say that again Ashe?"

  You're a greedy asshole, sir, and I wanted to stay in bed this morning. "Nothing, sir. Do we get transport?"

  Aderholt smiled. "Hell, Ashe, you get whatever you want. An attack this hard out of the fuckin' blue, with no warning and no alarms tripped anywhere? Call in a goddamn fighter jet if you like."

  Jeremy sighed. He glanced at Lani, who smiled and shrugged. Typical Lani. His partner would go along with anything. "Just give us a chopper then. No way I'm driving all the way out and back on those shitty roads."

  "You got it."

  Please let this just be something local. "What's the name of this place again?"

  "Rallsburg."

  He paused. "Rallsburg?"

  "Mean something to you?"

  God, I hope not. "Nope."

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  The chopper crested the last hill and Rallsburg came into view. Lani and Jeremy strained to see over the front seats.

  "What do you think?" Lani asked, voice crackling through the headset.

  "I think we're gonna find out jack shit, turn it over to the staties and I go back to pretendin' to chase my Walter White wannabes." The library's half-destroyed towers and spires loomed into view out of the morning fog. "Jesus, what the hell happened out here?"

  "That's our job."

  Jeremy keyed his radio to call back to the station. "How long until forensics gets to the town? Over."

  "Two hours, sir. Over."

  He sighed, turning to Lani. "Two hours before we get real support."

  "Where do you want to start?" asked Lani.

  Jeremy glanced around again. "Fuck it. Pilot, put us down right in front of the library."

  The chopper blades blew up gravel and dust everywhere as they slipped down onto the narrow street. The road was barely built wide enough for two vehicles, and debris littered the ground. Their pilot was skilled, though, and landed them neatly onto the pavement without incident.

  "No cell service," Jeremy noted with another sigh, after they were out and the chopper had spun down.

  "Really? Mine's okay."

  "Well fuck you and your carrier, then."

  Lani's phone buzzed to confirm his point. "Chief says we've got a press embargo for twelve hours."

  "Thank God."

  "You don't want people to know about this?"

  "I don't care if they know about it, I just don't want to be on a billion cameras. Twelve hours gives us time to get the fuck off the case and far away."

  "I wouldn't mind."

  "You actually look good though. I've got a face made for desk work."

  Lani laughed. "So how come you get dates while I can't get a single girl to spend an hour with me?"

  "'Cause I'm not looking for a relationship," Jeremy said with a shrug. "Some of 'em, it pretty much goes 'hey, you look down to fuck. Wanna fuck?' and he just gives me the nod. But if you actually want to meet a real girl, you've gotta show some confidence."

  "So you're saying I look good, I just need to act like it?"

  Jeremy shrugged again. Lani was a very good looking man. He had a nice lined face with just the perfect balance of stubble on his chin, he worked out, and his eyes were absolutely perfect—but he wasn't Jeremy's type. Besides, they were partners. He didn't need that complication in his life. Especially since he'd have to report it, and that would mean telling everyone in the office. He really didn't want to end up the 'token gay FBI agent.'

  "Your shoulders are going to get stuck there if you keep doing that."

  "There you go, you made a joke. That's progress." Jeremy pulled aside the board that had been set in front of the library door and glanced inside. "Well, this place looks fine. I doubt we're gonna find anythin' here."

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  "Social media picked up the story, but we're still clear for now. They declared a temporary no-fly zone." Lani reported as they wandered down the next street.

  "Don't you love working for the guy with all the power?" Jeremy murmured. He glanced around. "What the hell kind of town is this, anyway? It's got enough buildings for a couple thousand easy, but only a couple hundred lived here? And there's a state-level college, but no public schools?"

  "Former logging town that dried up, I guess."

  "Just seems weird, that's all." Jeremy shrugged. "There's mansions right next to apartments next to a farm. I don't get it."

  Lani scrolled through his phone. "It doesn't even have a Wikipedia page. Just some old census data. We've put in a request for the last known population list from the town and the school both, but they have to go digging through public records since the town's so obscure."

  "'Course not. They wouldn't send us anywhere that might have decent food." He sighed. "Where was that spot on the video? We should head there."

  "You want to get close to that?" Lani asked, shuddering.

  "Gotta do it sooner or later. Might as well take a look before anyone else touches it."

  It only took them a few minutes to find the correct street. Rallsburg wasn't very big. The smell was the first thing to hit them. The bodies were burned and charred, and had been sitting out in the sunlight for who-knew how long. He did a brief headcount. Twenty-five dead here, he noted with a shudder.

  "None of 'em were trying to run," he noted aloud.

  "Huh?"

  "They're all facin' the center. Trying to get their attacker. Or they're the attackers. I don't have a clue on that."

  "Twenty-five of them facing the middle and not running—they'd be the attackers, then, right?"

  "Makes sense." Jeremy crouched down to take a closer look. He didn't want to disturb the scene in case forensics found something important, but he couldn't resist taking a closer look. His old days as a detective on the city streets were coming back to him bit by bit. "All dead by whatever burned them."

  "That's not fire, though."

  "Huh?"

  Lani pointed at a spot on one of the bodies. "Those burns. They aren't caused by fire. There's not nearly enough surface damage. Those are electrical burns."

  Jeremy shook his head. "Can't be sure of that without forensics."

  "I guarantee it."

  "Then where did juice to zap twenty five people come from? The lines didn't fall anywhere near here, and they're still intact." Jeremy pointed at the wire strung out across the road, more than a hundred feet away. "No discharge at all. You sayin' they all got struck by lightning?"

  "I don't know."

  "We're not allowed to not know." Jeremy stood up and stretched out his shoulders. I really should exercise more. "Come on, let's keep movin'. Nothing more we can learn here."