Chewing his way through the meal, he read the rest of the paper with growing puzzlement. There was nothing, unsurprisingly, about someone who had managed to incinerate his enemies, but there were a whole series of puzzling reports. A young woman EMT who seemed to be able to heal by laying on hands. Several reports of surprisingly effective curses, all of which seemed to have worked exactly as advertised. One child who had managed to get up to the roof of his house without any way to climb, who had claimed to have flown when the fire department rescued him and carried the kid back down to the ground. A boy who claimed to be able to foresee the future. A girl who seemed to have grown three bust sizes in a single day. A mother who seemed to have become a living lie detector. Sightings of inhuman creatures all around the world, along with ghosts, goblins and vampires.
It sounded like madness. Calvin would have dismissed it as madness, except for the stench of death in his clothing. It was a miracle that no one had sniffed him and asked him just what he’d been doing before heading home. Walking upstairs, he pulled off his clothes, bagged them up and headed to the shower. After he’d changed, he’d take the clothes to the dump and throw them into the incinerator; no one would be able to prove anything by finding them.
Afterwards, he sat on his bed, cupped his hands in front of him and stared down at them. They looked...different, somehow, even though he couldn't put his finger on exactly what had changed. But he could feel the power inside him, swelling up through his cells and just waiting for him to direct it. Carefully, he concentrated, unsure of exactly what he was doing. Closing his eyes, he visualised a flame in his palm. When he opened his eyes, he saw a dancing candle-sized flame right in front of him. The power seemed to dance around him, ready to power the fire, or to do something else...
On impulse, he shifted from fire to water. A column of water sprung out of his palm and reached up towards the ceiling, before gravity took effect and it fell back towards the bed. Calvin cursed as water splashed down over him, breaking the spell and shocking him back to full awareness. If he could do both fire and water...he pushed the thought aside as he stood up and started to change the bed. Any further experiments would have to be done a long way from his books, and his house. A single mistake and he could burn down the entire building. Coming to think of it, he asked himself, why hadn't he done that when he’d incinerated Moe?
“Wow,” he breathed out loud. This opened up all sorts of possibilities for someone who wanted a little revenge for how he’d been treated. “What am I?”
That night, the dreams began.
Chapter Five
New York, USA
Day 5
“All right,” Matt said. “What the hell happened here?”
Fairview High School was surrounded by fire trucks and police cars, unsurprisingly. The report the FBI had forwarded to the task force – now it was watching for anything unusual – had stated that there had been a fire, which had rapidly turned into a serious investigation when the remains of three school children had been found in the debris. There had been enough strangeness about the whole report to puzzle everyone who had looked at it, even before the FBI got involved. Caitlyn had insisted on going to see the scene at once and Matt had followed her, rather like a lost puppy.
“Hey, Matt,” a voice called. The NPYD had sealed off the school for the moment, having sent the kids to their homes or to temporary facilities in another school. Matt suspected that the ones who had gone home would be happier than the rest of the kids, but it hardly mattered. “I thought you were still suspended.”
“Dave,” Matt said. They’d gone through training together. “I seem to have been attached to the FBI for the moment.”
Caitlyn held up her badge. “We need to find the incident coordinator,” she said. “Can you let him know we’re here?”
“Sure,” Dave said. He keyed his radio and reported their arrival. “They’re sending down someone to escort you to the scene of the crime. It’s weird, just as weird as your werewolf.”
Matt sighed. He had received official notice that Internal Affairs had finally managed to wrap its collective head around the concept of werewolves, at least after the other reports had started to flow in from the rest of the world, and they had officially cleared him of any misconduct. They hadn’t stipulated any time he was to return to duty, which rather suggested that some of them still had some doubts. Unless, of course, being assigned to the FBI trumped the NYPD. He’d probably wind up having to fight to get paid for the time he spent with them.
A policewoman arrived at the school doors and waved to them. Matt and Caitlyn identified themselves and followed her into the school and back up a flight of stairs, into a male toilet. It was easy to see why the forensic detectives were so puzzled; there were three charred bodies, lying on the ground, but the floor was barely scorched. Anything that burned so hot should have set the entire building on fire. One glance at the room told him that it wasn’t fireproof.
He wrinkled his nose at the smell and studied the scene. All three bodies had been effectively destroyed, almost completely broken down to ash, There was no sign that anyone else had been present, but what did that prove? The forensic researchers would check for traces of anyone else, yet Matt knew better than to hold out much hope. They were in a room used by hundreds, perhaps thousands, of schoolchildren per day. There would be so many traces that isolating anything would be a nightmare.
“The bodies are too badly damaged to get an immediate DNA reading,” an officer said, “but we checked the list of missing pupils and we have three possible identifications. Moe Levisohn, Ian Murray and Andy Montgomery. They didn’t show up outside the school when the fire alarm sounded and they were marked as missing by their teachers. We’ll compare the teeth against the dental records when we get them.”
Matt nodded. Basic procedure when dealing with school fire alarms was simple; the building was evacuated and a full roll call was taken. Anyone missing was assumed to be still in the building until the firemen had searched it from end to end. With a genuine fire, if one that had remained oddly limited to a single room, the fire department had taken the possibility that someone might have remained trapped in the school very seriously.
Caitlyn looked over at the investigators. “What caused the fire?”
“We don’t know,” one of them admitted. “The level of damage to the three bodies suggests that the fire was immensely hot, but it should have done far more damage to the room than it actually did. Hell, it should have set the entire school on fire. Our preliminary checks revealed no chemical compounds that might have caused self-immolation...it looks as if all three of them simply burst into flame, for no discernible reason.”
Matt snorted. “Spontaneous human combustion?”
“It’s been known to happen,” the investigator said. “Or it is possible that whatever struck them burned so completely that we won’t find any traces until we do a full autopsy, but that seems a little unlikely. I don’t understand what I’m looking at, I freely admit.”
He sounded frustrated. Matt couldn't blame him. Forensic research was an integral part of modern policing, allowing detectives to build up a picture of just what had happened and why, but this was turning into another werewolf mystery. Caitlyn had probably been right to assume that the mysterious fire was covered by the task force’s somewhat vague remit. It was definitely in line with the other supernatural events they’d been logging for the last five days.
“There are no traces of any flammable chemicals outside the burned zone,” another detective put in. “Maybe they were experimenting with something in chemistry class.”
“I doubt it,” Caitlyn said. “These aren’t the days when one could actually do proper experiments in science classes. The most dangerous things this generation sees in science class are custard bombs.”
She shook her head. “Have the bodies moved to the lab, where they can be studied properly,” she ordered. “Is there any CCTV footage available?”
“
I’m afraid not,” the incident coordinator said. “There were no cameras inside the toilet and most of the outside cameras had been wrecked by students. Apparently, the school gave up after spending thousands of dollars replacing the same camera time and time again.”
“Typical,” Caitlyn said sourly. “And I take it no one saw anything?”
“No witnesses have come forward,” the incident coordinator said. “There may be someone who saw everything in the groups that were sent home, so I was planning to ask when I sent out the parental leaflet. Someone might come forward.”
Matt nodded. Parents of school-aged children tended to become alarmed when schools became crime scenes. Some of them were so neurotic that they kept their children out of school for weeks, or wasted vast sums of money in sending their kids to psychiatrists. The NYPD tried to reduce the level of ungrounded panic by keeping the parents informed, even though the officers joked that all they were really doing was causing more grounded panic.
He shrugged. “How long is the school going to remain closed?”
“Depends,” the incident coordinator said, thoughtfully. “We’ll move the bodies later this afternoon, and then search the school thoroughly for anything that might have caused the fires. After that...I have a feeling that the principal will want to reopen as quickly as possible, so probably Monday at the latest. That gives the kids two free days before they return to school.”
“They’ll be grateful to the burned kids,” the forensic detective said, dryly. “Kids can be so cruel.”
“Yeah,” Matt agreed. “And how do we know that it wasn't another kid who did this?”
Caitlyn looked up at him, sharply. “What makes you say that?”
“There’s much more violence in schools than any of us want to admit,” Matt said, remembering his own schooldays. He’d been big enough to deter anyone from trying to bully him, but he’d seen enough to know that kids could definitely be cruel. Children were undeveloped, to the point where they were effectively sociopaths. “Maybe this was deliberate, a bullying incident that got out of control.”
“Maybe,” Caitlyn agreed. “Or maybe it was something far worse.”
***
“I’m looking at a total mystery,” Doctor Singh complained, two hours later. “Do you understand what happened here?”
“No,” Caitlyn said, as patiently as she could. One glance at the bodies and her instincts had begun screaming in panic. Something about them was wrong on a very fundamental level. If it hadn't been for Matt’s steadying presence, and her own training, she would have fled from the washroom. “What happened to them?”
“As near as I can tell,” Singh said thoughtfully, “almost every cell in their bodies ignited of its own accord. There’s no trace of anything that might have caused the fire, not like those dowsing cases we see in the inner cities. The fire seemed to come right out of nowhere.”
Caitlyn shuddered. Inner-city gangs had rituals to blood new members and make it impossible for them to back out. One of them involved finding a homeless person, drenching them in something flammable and having the new recruit strike a match, burning the victim halfway to death. Sometimes, they even made mistakes through being drugged up and burned themselves as well. It was no consolation to the victims, most of whom died of shock if the burns didn't kill them.
She leaned forward. “No chemicals at all?”
“Nothing beyond some hair gel, which shouldn't have been flammable,” Singh confirmed. “The level of damage inflicted on the bodies is quite high, almost remarkably high. Do you realise that it took nearly half an hour to get a proper DNA sample? That’s how much damage was inflicted on those bodies.”
“At least you managed to get positive identification,” Caitlyn mused. The NYPD would follow it up by visiting each victim’s home and making inquires, although for the moment Caitlyn was unsure what they could ask. It looked like they’d been victims of a tragic accident, but her instincts were screaming at her that something very bad had happened. “How long did they take to die?”
“This isn't bloody CSI, you know,” Singh said. “My best guess is that they died almost instantly, given the level of trauma inflicted on their bodies. However, I cannot actually say for certain. There’s just too much about this case that doesn't make sense. For example...”
He tapped a computer, bringing up photographs he’d taken during the autopsy. “A burned body tends to be charred on the outside, but much less damaged on the inside,” he explained, seriously. “Most burn victims look surprisingly healthy if you discount their skin. These victims, however, seem to have been charred everywhere. It looks to me as if something in their bodies ignited, but I honestly cannot explain it. Anything that could have caused this should have burned down the entire school in the process. Even if it burned very quickly, the heat should have ignited the rest of the washroom.”
“I think I’m going to get very tired of hearing that,” Caitlyn said, ruefully. Every single investigator had said it, time and time again. The FBI knew perfectly well that some cases never had a proper solution – something that hung together perfectly tended to be a cover story made up in advance – but she had a feeling that this was merely the beginning. “Is there anything else you can tell me about the bodies?”
“One of them had a burger and fries for breakfast,” Singh said. He grinned at her. “I found the remains in his tummy.”
Caitlyn sighed. “Something useful,” she stipulated, with a sharp glance at him. “Something I can actually put into my report.”
Singh considered it. “There isn't much I can tell you,” he admitted, finally. “Cause of death; massive burns. Cause of burns; unknown. I’ve sent an inquiry to a friend in the military – he works as an investigator for the military police – in the hopes that he might know something, but I’m not hopeful. This isn't another claymore pattern.”
Matt blinked in surprise. “A claymore pattern?”
“I only heard part of the story,” Singh said. “There was a soldier who was deployed to Iraq; unknown to him, his wife took advantage of the opportunity to have an affair. He came home, he figured it out and killed his wife and her lover with a claymore mine. And he would have gotten away with it if someone hadn't noticed that there was something about it that suggested that a claymore had been used.”
“I see,” Matt said. “But wouldn't they have found traces of explosive?”
“That’s why I think I’m missing part of the story,” Singh admitted. He looked over at Caitlyn. “My report will have far too many question marks to satisfy anyone, I’m afraid. It may remain a mystery.”
Caitlyn nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “Let us know if you find anything that points to the cause of death.”
She led Matt back to the office and poured them both cups of coffee, waving for Matt to sit down. “Poor kids,” she said, grimly. “What happened to them?”
“Something else weird,” Matt said. He picked up a copy of a newspaper and waved it at her. The weird events sweeping the nation had crowded everything else off the front page. “After werewolves and vampires and things that go bump in the night, what is human combustion? Or six thousand people winning the British lottery?”
Caitlyn took the newspaper and read it, thoughtfully. The United Kingdom had been running the National Lottery for years, something that Caitlyn considered a tax on stupid people. But the most recent draw, only two days ago, had produced no less than six thousand people with the winning numbers, most of whom seemed to believe that they were in line to receive millions. The reporter, who seemed to be unable to quite believe what she was writing, had listed incidents where employees had quit their jobs or schooling, only to discover that they would be sharing the pot. And if there were more than six thousand winners...
It wasn't the only weird incident that had occurred outside the United States. There were strange reports of odd sightings in the Middle East, Russia and even China, although all of the local governments were doing their best to cove
r them up. An American patrol in Afghanistan had discovered a massacre that seemed to be another werewolf attack, a slaughter so bloody that even the Taliban would have been horrified. The report stated that every man, woman and child in the village had been torn apart – and the vast number of shell casings scattered around suggested that they’d tried to fight, only to discover that it was futile. And there were stories from regions that still performed traditional magic that their rituals were actually working...
Absently, she wondered what Tomlinson was thinking. Her superior had given her the task force when he’d suspected that she was wasting her time, or that it was just another outbreak of craziness that would go away very quickly. Right now, he had to be wondering just what was going on – and how he could take credit for being proactive by assigning a Special Agent to head a task force. She’d heard rumours that there were intensive discussions underway in Washington, but so far nothing more concrete. Chances were that someone more senior would take over the task force, sooner or later. Unless they couldn't find someone willing to have the affair splashing shit on their careers...
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