The cruiser cut through the curtain of rain as Tanner sped down the highway to Goreman.  The wheels squealed and skidded around the corners on the wet road and Sinclair tightened his white-knuckled grip on the panic handle.  He refrained from scolding Tanner for going too fast and wondered to himself how Tanner could see where he was going with the emergency lights blinding against the wet stone surrounding them in the canyon.  The sheer rock walls opened up to a forested valley as the car crested a hill.  Sinclair glanced out the window and spotted a shadow stumbling out onto the highway in the rear view mirror.

He grabbed Tanner’s arm.  “Stop the car!”

Tanner swerved and pulled the car over a few hundred yards down the road.  Sinclair opened the door before Tanner came to a complete stop and sprinted towards the shadow in the road.  Water flowed off his poncho, cold driving through the thin plastic and down into his jacket.  A few yards before him, a man collapsed on his hands and knees in the road.  Behind Sinclair, Tanner pulled the cruiser up, washing the scene in blue and red as Sinclair scooped the man up beneath his arms and helped him into the back of the cruiser, sitting beside him in the back seat.  Tanner stared at him dumbstruck, taking in the sight of the naked man as Sinclair tried to keep him conscious.  

“Hospital, Morin!” Sinclair snapped, keeping his eyes focused on the man as the car kicked into movement.

“Who are--?” the man mumbled, eyes half-lidded.

“Stay awake,” Sinclair slapped his cold cheeks lightly, “what’s your name?”

“My what?” His head lolled to the side.

“Your name,” Sinclair said with more emphasis, grabbing his chin to stabilize his head.

“S’ Alex?  Alex,” his eyes slipped closed, “cold.”

“How far to the hospital?” Sinclair asked Tanner, surveying the outermost neighborhoods of Goreman.

Tanner gripped the steering wheel.  “Ten minutes?”

“Sirens on, make it five,” Sinclair commanded.

The sirens wailed to life.  The few people on the road pulled over ahead of them and gawked as they sped on by.  Sinclair braced himself and Alex for the turns in the road with his leg against the back of the passenger seat.  Alex’s eyes rolled in his head.  Sinclair cursed as Alex went limp again and tore off his poncho, shedding his jacket and wrapping it around Alex’s body.  He shook Alex’s shoulders and his eyes fluttered open again.

“Alex, we’re almost to the hospital.  Look at me,” Sinclair readjusted his head, “what’s five times six?”

Alex stared at him bleary-eyed.

“Alex,” Sinclair said in his best warning tone.

“Th-thirty,” Alex finally mumbled.

“That’s right.  Two times four?”

Alex’s brows pinched in focus.  “Ten?  No…” his head rolled.

Sinclair readjusted to keep him from falling out of the seat as Tanner whipped around the turn to the emergency entrance of the hospital.  “Try again.”

“Mm… eight,” he mumbled.

Tanner pulled the car to a stop in front of the emergency room doors and opened the back door.  He helped Sinclair haul Alex’s boneless body through the doors.  The few people in the emergency room turned their eyes on them, shocked.

“Don’t just stand there, get me a bed!” Sinclair demanded, locking eyes with a nurse standing at the counter.  

She vanished into the back and returned within minutes with two more nurses, a doctor, and a gurney.  Sinclair and Tanner helped Alex onto it.  The nurse with a blank medical chart stayed behind.  Before she could ask any questions, Sinclair started speaking.

“His name is Alex, we found him on the road like that on our way down here.  I don’t know his last name, I don’t know how long he was out in the rain, I can’t help you any more than that.  Can you point us to the ward in charge of Alice Decker?”

“Third floor,” was all the nurse could get out before Sinclair stormed toward the elevator.

She looked at Tanner for an explanation.

“We’ve got a lot of missing folks down our way,” Tanner explained.

“Tanner, come on,” Sinclair called from the elevator, holding the door.

“Let the doctors know, prep for a rush.”  Tanner followed Sinclair into the elevator where they sat in apprehensive silence as the numbers ticked up to three.

The doors opened to a waiting room where a pair of Goreman city police spoke to the receptionist.  Sinclair wasted no time approaching them, and they turned around to address him.

“Alice Decker?” He asked, by way of explanation.

The larger of the two held out his hand to Sinclair and sniffed with a scowl when Sinclair took it.  “You’re Foreman’s replacement?  Expected someone with a bit more… meat.”

Sinclair scowled back.  “Meat’s good for lunch, not for finding a missing woman.”

“I’d beg to differ.” He grinned from beneath his mustache.

Sinclair’s scowl deepened as he dug his nails into the man’s hand and held his gaze long enough for his overconfident smile to falter.  “What do you know about Alice Decker?” 

More of a command, than a request.

“Foreman warned me they’d get some stick-up-the-ass city slicker to replace him,” the second officer looked between Sinclair and the larger man who was clearly his superior, “and here, we don’t even get an introduction.”  He opened his mouth and began to introduce himself, but Sinclair cut him off.

“Sinclair.  Sinclair Vitale, worked homicide for five years in Chicago.  What do you know about Alice Decker?”

“Wally, we really don’t have time for this,” Tanner piped up.  He nodded at the second man in greeting, “Dylan.”

Wallace laughed.  “Morin, buddy!  First they got you taking orders from a woman, then from a beta.”

Tanner shrugged off Wallace’s hand.  “Vitale’s fine.  We’ve got a situation at the Peak, really need to get caught up and on our way so we can help with the search effort.”

Wallace glared at Sinclair out of the corner of his eye, his bravado fading to a cowed simmer.  Dylan borrowed a notepad from the receptionist and scribbled a number down on it.

“The doctor --” he halted for a moment when Wallace grunted at him, “the doctor assigned to Mrs. Decker went home not long ago, here’s his number.  We think she stole some scrubs off the dolly and snuck out with a card she picked off one of the nurses.  No bad injuries, a little blood from where she tore out her IV.”

Sinclair took the paper, “Thank you, officer…?”

“Dylan Guthrie.  How bad is the situation?” He asked.

“Bad.  At least four missing not including Mrs. Decker, no explanations so far,” he turned to Wallace, “sheriff, you’d best get your people ready to help with the search.”

Wallace scoffed. “I doubt your missing will get as far as Goreman.”

“I picked one up on the road ten minutes outside of town,” Wallace’s sardonic grin vanished, “I look forward to working with you,” he turned to the receptionist, “would you mind calling all the nurses on shift in the ward when Mrs. Decker went missing?  I’d like to ask a few questions.”

“Already done, they don’t know shit,” Wallace said.

Sinclair ignored him. “Thank you, ma’am.”

The receptionist picked up the phone and dialed the PA to send out an announcement.

“I find it hard to believe they saw nothing,” Tanner said, scanning the trees as he drove along the neighborhood road.  The lights flashed against the trees as the rain began to slow, providing them with better visibility, “don’t you think this is an encroachment on their territory?”

“Who?” Sinclair asked, staring intently out the window for any sign of strange movement.

“The Goreman police department.”

“Hm,” Sinclair shrugged, “I’d rather step on some toes than wait for that bastard to get off his ass and mobilize a search.  It’s cold and wet out there.  Worst case scenario, Mrs. Decker is already suffering hypothermia.”

Tanner went quiet.  They saw nothing on the road as he turned and expanded their search radius.  “Lots of houses, though.  Goreman is pretty big, she might have taken shelter with a neighbor.  We wouldn’t know, and we’ve got enough to worry about at home.”

“One more circle, then we head back and join the search,” Sinclair coalesced.  

With no sign of Alice, Sinclair radioed the situation to Goreman’s station and they set out in the dark again.  A roaring ambulance passed them from the direction of Cobalt Peak.  Tanner drove more slowly than before, keeping his eyes peeled for any dark shadows on the road that could be people stumbling out from the cold of the forest.

They pulled into the station an hour later as the storm slowed to a steady rain.  They parked at the far end of the lot, out of the way of the canopy set up to cover the search teams.  Deputy Gaye spotted them  and waved them over to the group of county police as they emerged from the car.  Sinclair recognized Dave’s freshly-shaven face in the group.

“Sheriff!” he exclaimed as Sinclair and Tanner joined the group, “good to see ya -- well, wish it was at the bar and not here.  Any luck at the hospital?”

Sinclair shook his head.  “We did a sweep, but had to hand it over to Goreman.”

Dave grimaced.  “Yeesh, had to deal with sheriff Flynn on top of everything.  That guy’s a piece of work.”

“We’re setting up search teams,” Deputy Gaye interjected, “Sheriff, you and some of the county guys are canvassing the city proper.  Tanner, you’re with me.  We’re taking the woodlands to the east.”

Dave grabbed Sinclair’s shoulder and led him away.  “I’ll fill him in, deputy!” Dave called back over his shoulder, “got the search party over here.  We got walkers and drivers.”

Their search party numbered only five.  Sinclair learned he would be walking, that they’d start at one side of the small city and canvas the neighborhoods where people went missing from.  The drivers would canvas further out, covering the neighborhoods with no missing people.  By the time the white ball of the sun shone through the clouds, their search party tripled.

Midday came and went in a convoy of ambulances and police cars ferrying the found to the hospital.  Erin sat in a folding chair under the canopy, staring down between her knees with a bottle of water dangling from her hand.  Sinclair joined her, his body aching for a pep up.  He settled for the styrofoam cups of coffee Dave handed him and Erin.

“Long night for you two, eh?” he said.

Sinclair nodded, sipping at the weak sludge that passed for coffee in this town.  Erin took a few big gulps and dissolved into coughing.

Sinclair didn’t look at her.  “Ya good?”

She cleared her throat and grunted in the affirmative.

“I think we’ve got everyone accounted for,” Dave said, “at least that y’all reported last night.”

“Eden got word from Goreman that they found Alice taking shelter in a dumpster,” Erin said deadpan, “she’s fine.”

Sinclair released a sigh of relief.  “Any new missing?”

“Not right now, but I wouldn’t count on having a break.” Erin took a slower sip of her coffee this time.

“About that,” Dave said, “me and the county guys are switching shift soon.  I was wondering if you wanted us to call in some reinforcements so you can catch a few hours of sleep?”

Erin’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Sinclair took a second to inventory the state of his people.  Erin might not leave, but Tanner was falling asleep on his feet across the way.  Eden hadn’t slept in over twenty four hours while manning the phones, and they were still down a replacement.  Running the emergency line through Goreman wouldn’t do.

“Deputy, why don’t you take first rest.  I’ll keep an eye on things here, man the phones.  We can give Eden and Tanner a break,” Sinclair suggested.

Erin mulled it over for a minute before standing up.  “Back in four hours,” she said, ambling over to Tanner.

“I appreciate your help, Dave,” Sinclair said, “don’t know what we would have done without the state patrol tonight.”

Dave grinned at him.  “Well, you would have figured something out.  You’re looking rough, though.  Why not catch a catnap in the drunk tank while things are quiet?”

“Come get me if I’m not back in an hour,” he said with a chuckle, “I might have locked myself in.”