II
Despite it being two o'clock in the morning at the FBI, the main building was bustling as if the Son of Sam had returned. An alarming chain of events had thrown everybody into a state of disarray. Among the agents frantically rushing through the halls, two men were quickly running the opposite direction.
"So how many has it been so far?" Jeff asked.
"Just three so far, but even that's too many." Said Adam.
"And how do we plan to explain this to their families?"
Jeff grumbled. "We're going to have to tell them that there is no explanation. That's the only thing we can tell them without lying, right?"
"I guess. But this is some fucked up shit, man. How can some guys just disappear?"
"You're asking the wrong guy."
Another man, Phillip, met them near the administration office. "Adam? There's some jerk named Willie on the phone for you."
"Shit…" Adam grumbled. "Fine, I'll take it in my office. Jeff, the investigation department needs that report yesterday."
"Yes, sir."
Adam walked briskly to his office, sat down, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and picked up the extension. "Go ahead."
"My name is Willie, and I work for the NJPD," said the voice on the other end.
"What do you want?"
"You need to get your asses over here." Willie said. "You've heard about the suicides, right?"
"Yes. It's some horrible shit."
"Well, my wife just fucking killed herself, and that's where the line between a job a local police department can handle, and a job that the government needs to handle is crossed."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Willie, but we're too busy here to come out to central Jersey right now."
"Oh really? And just what the fuck has you so busy?"
"I'm not at liberty to discuss that information." Adam said sharply. "Now I'm going to hang up now. Next time think twice before you call Washington." And he hung up.
On the other end of the phone, Willie swore as he turned his cell phone off. He had been at home for three days straight, crying his brains out. His wife was never an angry person. Their relationship had been the best in the world, as far as he was concerned. And then the anger had started.
He had noticed that she bitched about the smallest things, and screamed at their son for almost no reason at all. But he had never thought she would take her own life.
"Dad," his son whispered, coming into the living room where Willie was lying on the couch, "Have you been watching the news?"
"Fuck the news." Willie grumbled, throwing an empty liquor bottle to the floor. "What is it? More suicides and natural disasters?"
"People are disappearing."
"Hah. Right. Mike, a man just can't disappear, just like that. Probably ran away or some shit."
"Dad, one of the people that vanished was a prison inmate that they had attached a homing device to. They've bounced the signal off every satellite on this side of the planet, and they still can't find him."
Willie snorted. "Son, don't take everything at face value. For example," he opened another beer, "I blamed your mother's bitching on PMS, and look what shit I get."
"People have been saying it's the coming of the Devil." Mike continued. "You think it's true?"
"Some jerkoff at the chicken place said the same thing." Willie mused. "But there ain't no Devil. It's just some shit in a book."
"Well, I'm going to services tonight. I'll ask our preacher."
"Whatever."