Monday - 0900 hours
Transmission outgoing …
General Wilkes from forward team. Containment protocols in place, two local casualties, no losses to team.
Area secure as of last report.
Crash site has been secured, bodies recovered and currently in transit back to operations.
Phase two in effect - observation and prevention ongoing.
Next report in six hours.
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Parker walked through the centre of the village.
He wasn't his usual cheery self today.
He was troubled.
His friend and colleague had not called in that morning and Parker was concerned. The other had not missed a day of work in as long as he had been with the force.
The station had called and called as to the reason for the absence but had so far come up empty. He himself had called several times, both on the home number ad private number that he had. But, like the station, o-one had answered as yet.
Steve Finch had been known to like the bottle on occasion, but not when he had a shift the following morning.
Parker was worried.
He had been in the village all his short twenty-two years. Like the others that also lived here he enjoyed the peace and quiet, the solitude of the place. The nearest, closest village of any worth was over thirty miles away, only the odd farm dotting the landscape between there and where he now stood.
He took a deep breath of the crisp, cool morning air and stopped moving long enough to get his bearings. After the briefest of moments he chose the direction he needed and started off once more.
The breath helped clear his worry a little, but it didn't go completely.
As he walked on he nodded to the few people that he passed. He knew everyone by name but a nod was usually sufficient. Most waved in response, a few nodded in reciprocation to his own greeting.
It took him a further ten minutes of walking to reach his destination. This was where he finally stopped.
The two-storey granite house was almost identical to every other on the side of the road he stood on.
Any other day and it would be hard to tell them apart.
But strangely not today.
Something was wrong.
Parker opened the white-painted wooden gate and crunched his way up the gravel path towards the front door.
As he walked his police-mans mind took in all the details.
It was a beautiful day, yet all the curtains were drawn and the windows were all up. Surely, even this early, Steve would be up and airing the home for the coming day. Which meant one of two things; either the other man never came home after last night … or he was still in bed. Neither option sounded much like the man that he come to see.
He lifted his closed fist and knocked lightly on the heavy door.
He waited. And waited some more.
He was now very worried.
'Steve … get your lazy ass out of that pit your in and open the damn door!'
Nothing.
Parker sensed an … emptiness about the place. He reached down and put his hand on the handle. It opened with only the slightest pressure.
The barrier swung inwards and hit the inside wall with a soft thump.
Parker stepped attentively inside the hallway and gently closed the door behind him. He pulled the mag lite from his belt and hit the switch at the rear. A bright beam of light speared through the gloom and started to light the shadowy areas of the house.
He moved to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. The top of the flight was in complete darkness, the curtains up there must have been heavier to keep so much light out.
'Steve?'
A whispered question, a hopeful remark.
Nothing.
He was starting to like the feel in here less and less.
Putting the upstairs out of his mind for the moment he walked through the open door nearby into a small but functional living room. At first glance nothing seemed amiss. Then he noticed the small things; the broken glass on the carpet, the liquid spilled from within already dry on the carpet.
The table pushed just a little too firmly away from its usual position.
He walked through the room into the kitchen attached to one end.
The tap dripped maddeningly to itself. He reached over and absently shut it off.
It was then that he heard the stair creak in the hallway where he had just come from.
He spun around and walked back into the first room. His light blinked off throwing the whole area into murky darkness and shadows once more.
He walked forward and peered into the gloomy interior.
Across the room a shadow shifted and took a step closer.
'Steve? That you buddy?'
The figure took another step closer, its features indistinct still. Parker took a step closer all fear gone once he knew who it must be.
'You are one sorry son of a bitch. You had me worried. What the hell are you … ?'
The thing that had once been officer Steve Finch launched itself forwards and took the other officer to the floor. Before Parker knew what was happening the other buried its mouth into the soft flesh of his throat.
His twenty-two years ended on the floor of his friends house.
Two hours later he opened his eyes and looked on the world with a whole different view.
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People went about their daily routines with the minimum of fuss in the village.
Water from the stream came into the small plant and reservoir and was distributed around the community. It went into houses and public house, the local bank and nearby farms.
Dripping from countless taps it made its way into teas and coffee, juice and cold drinks.
Many that first day hardly noticed the strange coppery taste of their local tap water. What had happened in officer Finch's home repeated itself in many other homes.
It had begun.
The time was 0930.