You know, when I signed onto being part of the Action News Team, I knew I'd be talking about school spirit weeks, interviewing lunch ladies, covering big sports games, scoring mad chicks… journalists get tons of tail, right?

…

Ahem. My point is, all this conspiracy stuff is a bit outside the purview of what I was expecting. I feel like Zach's dragging us into some really dangerous territory. Then again, who even watches the Action News Team broadcasts anyway, besides our classmates and teachers? I'm probably just getting worried over nothing.

I walked home from school that day with my usual swagger - passing by my little brother Rocky in the front yard, who was trying to see how many times he could bounce a soccer ball off his head before it fell on the ground. (His record is seven, or so I've heard.) Then I greeted my pop, who was watching Katherine Mulligan on TV while sipping a diet soda. How could anyone drink that stuff? He says he likes it "for the taste", but to me it doesn't taste like anything but carbonated water and lies.

Ordinarily, I would have just asked him how his day was and gone up to my room, but that stuff about Incognito Labs was still needling me.

"How was your day, Rust Man?" he asked as I approached the couch. (He's taken to using that nickname recently. I haven't decided if I like it or not.)

"Pretty good," I said. "Say, Dad, what do you know about—"

"Incognito Labs!" announced Katherine Mulligan, just before I was about to finish that sentence. My eyes snapped towards the TV; there she was, looking as fresh as ever. She was standing in front of the steel doors of a well-kept but eerily quiet facility.

"This surreptitious company has managed to avoid the headlines since attempting to send a man into space without a suit. Curiously, the man in question, Phillip "Flip" Philippini, has not pressed charges or sought any legal action against the company since the incident. When questioned about his motive for letting them off the hook, our team was told to, quote, 'shut up and buy a Flippee or get the heck out of the store'."

Katherine tentatively opened the door of the facility and crept inside, as her cameraman followed her. The inside was so dimly lit that her cameraman had to shine a flashlight on her - which was weird, since it was four in the afternoon.

"This is Incognito Labs' research and development facility," she continued. She turned right and started down a long, dank corridor, while her cameraman followed her. The click-clack of her heels against the tile floor echoed throughout the hall.

"What we're hoping to find here is some explanation for why… oh, dear."

She glanced over her shoulder for a second, and apparently whatever she saw was enough to stop her cold. "Jimmy, come get a shot of this," she said, scurrying out of the frame while her cameraman tried to keep up.

The camera was now centered on an iron door marked "TEST SUBJECT #375". But as it turned out, it wasn't what she saw that put her on edge; no, it was what she heard. The microphone picked up a voice coming from behind the door - a hoarse moan of a voice that sounded like it was in the middle of a sobbing fit.

"Three little kittens lost their mittens," whimpered the voice. "And they began to cry…'Oh, mother dear, we sadly fear, our mittens we have lost!'"

I don't scare too easily, but this was giving me a major case of the heebie-jeebies. And apparently, I wasn't alone on that.

"This just in," said Katherine, her voice trembling. "Ace reporter Katherine Mulligan is beginning to regret taking on this—"

"WHAT?!"

The whimper from behind the door was now an angry shriek, making the cameraman flinch from the shock. "You lost your mittens?! You naughty kittens! THEN YOU SHALL HAVE NO PIE!"

The sound of someone banging on the inside of the door was the last thing I heard before the screen flickered and went black. A moment later, a title card reading "TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES" flashed on the screen, accompanied by some easy listening music. My dad and I exchanged bewildered glances before turning back to the screen. Neither of us knew exactly what to make of what just happened.

"Dad?" I said, my voice a hoarse whisper. "Is mom- I mean, is Katherine gonna be okay?"

My dad shook his head. "I… I don't know," he muttered, pushing himself up off the couch. "I'll call her."

Okay, he's gonna handle it. Dad always knows what to do. Plus, he and Katherine are super close. I'm sure she'll call him back or at least text.

Several hours later, and not a word from her. So much for Dad handling it. We ate our dinner in stony silence, too shaken by what we had witnessed to speak. The whole time, I tried to come up with reasons for Katherine ghosting us. M-maybe she's busy? Working late? It can't be that she's mad at Dad; she doesn't seem like one to give people the silent treatment. Or maybe it's just a big prank! Yeah, that's it! It's a prank, and we're all gonna look like a bunch of rubes for falling for it!

…

Aw, who am I kidding? None of those make any sense. I went to bed and had an awful, fitful night of sleep, tossing and turning the whole time as I couldn't help but wonder what the heck was going on.

The next morning, I stumbled through my morning routine like a zombie and trudged downstairs. My dad was sitting at the kitchen table, clasping a cup of coffee, wearing the same shell-shocked frown that I saw last night.

"No word from Katherine?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

He knit his brow. "Nothing," he said with a shake of his head. "I tried calling her several times, but she didn't pick up. Hasn't responded to my texts, either."

A queasy feeling began to settle in my stomach, as the events of last afternoon replayed in my head. Maybe I should have called someone. Someone should have called someone. Holy moly, what the heck could have happened to Katherine?

My mind tried to conjure up some sort of non-terrifying explanation for her ghosting my dad. Maybe she was mad at him for some reason. Maybe she was working a night shift. Maybe—

Ding. My train of thought was interrupted by a notification on my phone. I picked it up and unlocked the screen to see that someone had tagged the Action News Team in a blog post - a mysterious account with no followers and no profile picture, with the username "Corn1228738B4G". The post, which made my blood run cold, was as follows:

"Curiosity killed the cat."

The footage from yesterday afternoon replayed in my head. Cat… kittens… mittens… was there a connection? This was too much to take in. I needed to talk to someone.

Okay, um… Lincoln! Yeah, he always knows what to do. I dialed him up as quickly as I could. C'mon, pick up, pick up… Oh, thank goodness.

"Hey, Rusty," he said, his tone a little uneasy. "I take it you saw the post we just got tagged in?"

"Yeah, I saw it, but that's not why I called. Well, it's not the only reason. Lincoln, were you watching the news last night?"

"The news? No, I'm not really a news watcher. I mostly prefer to—"

"Lincoln, listen. I think Katherine Mulligan might be in real danger."

"W-what?!" he cried. "What do you mean?! What happened?!"

"She was investigating Incognito Labs," I explained. "She found some really messed up stuff, and the feed cut out halfway through."

My voice started to creak. "She hasn't been answering any of my dad's calls. Lincoln… I'm really worried."

He paused, and took a deep breath. "I know you are, Rusty," he said. "But we've been through darker times before. I'll let the rest of the Action News Team know what you just told me, and today after school we'll put together a plan of action. Just hang in there."

Geez, Lincoln. I remember when you were such a neurotic worrywart. How'd you get this mature in just one year?

"All right, Lincoln," I said. "We're counting on you."

And then I hung up. It's not really going to be up to us to solve this, right? Katherine Mulligan's important. People are going to care that she's missing. Why isn't this a job for the police, or the FBI, or… I don't know, someone who's not us?