Chapter 2

BULLETIN - EAN ACTIVATION REQUESTED

EMERGENCY ALERT DETAILS

THE NATIONAL PRIMARY EAS SYSTEM HAS ISSUED A NATIONAL EMERGENCY ACTION NOTIFICATION FOR:

UNITED STATES AND ALL TERRITORIES

AT 09:01 AM EDT

ON SAT FEB 17, 2029

EFFECTIVE UNTIL ENDED BY NATIONAL EMERGENCY TERMINATION ALERT

...UNKNOWN CONTAGION IN PROGRESS...

THE FOLLOWING MESSAGE IS TRANSMITTED AT THE REQUEST OF THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES

THERE IS AN UNKNOWN CONTAGION THAT IS AFFECTING PERSONS IN EXTREME WAYS

SHELTER IN PLACE IMMEDIATELY AND LOCK ALL WINDOWS AND DOORS. THIS

IS FOR THE ENTIRETY OF THE UNITED STATES AND ALL TERRITORIES

Most major cities around the world still bare scars from February 17th, 2029, the day people like me gained the power to shapeshift. Buildings couldn't handle when a person grew several stories in height. Thousands of people around the world died from structure collapses alone. Add to that the deaths from plane crashes, car accidents, train wrecks, and police losing their minds because people randomly turned into bears, dragons, or grew horns and it's easy to see why CoL Day is a day of remembrance around the world.

Millions of people died or were seriously injured and traumatized.

The city of Austin is no different. Even today, eleven years later, towering cranes work to erect new sky-rises in the gaps left from February 17th. Someone familiar with how the place was before CoL Day would need a minute to realize it's the same city, just with different buildings.

I pass three permanent memorials to lives lost on CoL Day while driving to Detective Windgate's office. Two of them are parks where buildings used to stand. The other is an abstract statue made of the twisted remnants of steel I-beams. Each site has a story of loss and survival. They all also have offerings of flowers, cards, and stuffed animals around them. People walk their dogs and sit on benches in the parks while other folks leave things at the memorials.

It's easy to see why Windgate takes time off in February.

I knock on the door to his office and hear shuffling on the other side before it opens. As usual, Eugene's hair is a mess. The bags under his eyes would need to be checked by an airline. He almost looks like he's been punched twice.

"Page," he says.

"You sent a text asking if I'd swing by before I leave and you go on vacation," I reply with an awkward smile.

"Oh, right, yeah, Lucas did. Sure. Please, come in," he says before moving out of the way.

Detective Windgate's office is a lot cleaner than the last time I saw it. The empty fruit baskets are gone, as is the messy pile of envelopes that had accrued around his desk.

"You've been busy," I say.

He huffs before scooping up the remaining papers from his desk and shoving them into a drawer.

"You doing alright?" I ask.

Eugene runs his hand through his hair a couple times before sitting heavily in the chair behind his desk then covers his face with both of his palms and speaking from behind them, "As well as I do this time of year."

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault. We won't be around for awhile so whatever you get up to, you're on your own," he says still with his face behind his hands.

"You can call me if y'all need anything," I say before moving back toward the door.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

I turn around.

Eugene is no longer covering his face and looks a little insulted.

"Was gonna leave. Thought I was stressing you out."

"Sit."

I follow his orders and settle in the chair across from his desk. The last time I sat here I was a lot shorter.

"You don't stress me out. Frankly, it's weird. My therapist loves it, though. Thinks you're good for us," Eugene explains. "I'm just exhausted. Not only did we wrap up a couple cases this week but I had to clean the office. I've got some of your mail at the house."

I have no idea where your house is.

"Mail?"

"You seriously need to get an office of your own or at least a P.O. box. People keep sending us your shit," he says.

"Like more fruit baskets?"

"No. Those stopped after you turned invisible at the car dealership. Some guy in Vegas keeps sending you certified mail. I wasn't available when most of them showed up but, the last one had two hundred bucks in it."

I don't know what to say about any of that. After a moment of silence Eugene lets out a bit of a cough.

"For the record, I didn't open most of them. Starling did."

"Who'd send two hundred bucks? I don't know anyone in Vegas."

He pulls out his small leather notebook and flips through the pages then squints for a moment. "Lucas says it's someone named 'Frame' from the Co-, ahem, that study thing you're going to visit."

Holy shit.

"Oh, wow. Why the Hel would Frame send me money?"

Eugene shrugs then tosses his notebook on his desk. "He didn't. That was addressed to me. As for whatever else is going on with the guy, I can't read these notes right now."

"May I?" I ask while gesturing to the notebook.

"Sure."

I pick it up and find the page he had been on. Starling's handwriting is worse than I imagined it would be, but there's a second set of much more legible notes on the same page written in the margin. I don't read them out loud.

"Alastor 'Frame' Class C, has mailed ten letters using certified mail to Page via Detective Windgate. Seems to want to get in touch with Page but doesn't have their address. Some have had different names and addresses on them. Last one was sent specifically to Windgate and had $200 in it to ensure we tell Page about the need to speak with Page."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" I ask.

He winces. "You've had a lot going on. I've been busy."

"For the record I'm not mad," I say. "I don't have time to deal with this right now, anyway. I'm just happy to hear Frame's not passed out in a ditch somewhere. He...had some issues with alcohol."

I close the moleskin and slide it back across the desk.

"We'll get you up to date on the letters next month. Lucas will probably be the one to handle that," Eugene says. "You're not going to ask where I'm going?"

"Figured you'd tell me if you felt like it. Didn't want to press."

He smirks before sitting up in his chair and grabbing the notebook and slipping it back into his jacket pocket. "A friend of mine has some land out West. Lets me crash there a few weeks in February. Very isolated."

I nod. "It sounds nice."

"It's quiet."

"Quiet is nice."

"It is."

Eugene purses his lips for a moment. "Page, if you need anyth-, never mind. You won't. Forget it. Just. Have fun on your trip."

"You too, Windgate."