It’s not even six when Alex Crawford parks their Jeep in the small gravel lot at the Ranger Office in Tuskegee National Forest, but the Sunday morning sky is already a bright, offending blue. The air is hazy with smoke, and bits of white ash mingle with the rays of sunlight cutting through the pines, side effects of the wildfire they’d finally managed to contain and let burn out not two days ago. Thank God for controlled burns, they think, or we mighta been fighting that sonofabitch all summer.

When they walk into the office, they’re greeted by the two rangers coming off the night shift, Sarah Perkins and Jackson Greene, one of whom hands them a mug of freshly made coffee.

“Oh, shit,” says Alex, taking the cup from Sarah. “That bad, huh?”

It’s unofficial protocol among the Tuskegee Rangers to prepare incoming personnel for potentially difficult shifts with a fresh brew and brief report of the previous shift’s activities. Well, the briefing is official protocol—the fresh coffee is just good manners.

“Rogers and Li found the points of origin yesterday,” says Blake Ferguson grimly, without preamble. Blake is Alex’s partner for this shift, and he’s studying a map on the wall that’s marked with all of the campsites, shooting ranges, and other points of interest Tuskegee National Forest has to offer. It’s also got a couple of bright red thumbtacks stuck into it.

Alex figures this is good news, because that means they can focus their work today on post-fire cleanup rather than investigative work. Except—

“I’m sorry, did you say points of origin?” asks Alex. Blake grimaces at them.

“They found two. One here and here,” says Sarah, pointing at the red thumbtacks.

“Two points of origin for the same fire?” Alex takes a big gulp of coffee and promptly burns their tongue. Fuck. “I mean, I reckon it’s possible, but….”

“Oh, that ain’t even the weirdest part,” says Jackson, Sarah’s partner on the night shift. He’s grinning maniacally, prodding Sarah in the shoulder. “Tell them the weirdest part. No, no, no. Show them the weirdest part. No, wait. I want to show them.”

Sarah shrugs, and Jackson practically jogs over to the back counter. He gingerly picks up an aluminum tray, the kind they use for containing and examining specimens, and carries it back over to his colleagues.

“Me and Sarah found these during last night’s safety checks,” he says, and gleefully shoves the tray at Alex and Blake. “Almost stepped on one of them.”

Inside are the remains of several mid-sized birds. It’s not unusual for wildlife to perish during a wildfire, though finding their remains might be Alex’s least favorite part of the job. But something’s off about them. For one thing, there’s nothing left but the skeletons, which is much less gory than what you usually find after a wildfire, in Alex’s experience. There bones are picked clean, and there are no char marks on the bones.

For two, they don’t look like anything you’d normally find in Tuskeegee National Forest. They’re too small to be turkeys, too big to be songbirds, and the wrong shape for bobwhite quails.

Alex squints at the skeletons, uncertain. The bones have a familiar look about them, though again, not because Alex has encountered them in the forest before. Alex’s eyes grow wide.

Jackson sees when Alex gets it and bursts out laughing, but Alex needs for someone to say it out loud.

“Hold up,” they say, putting their coffee on a nearby desk and leaning in for a closer look. “Are those… chickens?”