The dim glow of computer screens cast a spectral pallor on Javi and Tori as they hunched over the cluttered metal desk that served as their makeshift office. Stacks of papers, replete with charts and graphs, wavered precariously in the artificial breeze from a struggling fan in the corner.
"Doesn't add up," muttered Javi, rubbing his temples where the onset of a tension headache brewed.
Tori's storm-cloud hair fell like a curtain as she leaned in, her attention riveted to the data flickering across the monitors. The death of the nurse, under the shroud of an earthquake, resonated with a dissonance.
"Earthquakes don't single out victims, Javi," she said, her voice tinged with the determination that had become her armor since Sammy's passing. Her gaze, the color of the tempestuous sea, never left the screen. "They're indiscriminate. I mean... wrong place at wrong time... It's possible."
"Like Sarah was in the wrong place?"
"Maybe..."
"Let's take a deeper dive." Javi's fingers danced across the keyboard, summoning seismic records from the depths of the internet. He pulled up data on the small town's quake and began juxtaposing it against the background of other recent seismic events. A furrow creased his brow as he scrutinized the magnitude, the intensity, and the aftershock patterns. Each click, each comparison, drew them further into the mosaic of mystery that lay before them.
"Look at this," he said, pointing to a line graph that spiked anomalously. "This one's an outlier; it's almost as if—"
"Almost as if it was tampered with?" Tori finished for him.
"What, like the earthquake?"
"No. Like the report." She tapped the screen. "I mean... sometimes there are outlying seismic events."
Javi leaned back, eyes never leaving the screen.
Tori's fingers danced across her own keyboard with a ferocity. She filtered through logs, dispatches, and first responder accounts, seeking discordant notes in the aftermath's symphony.
"Look at this," Tori murmured, leaning closer to the monitor. Her eyes, reflecting the blue-gray tumult of a troubled sea, caught a pattern. "The response times here," she tapped the screen, "they're inconsistent. This area," she pointed to a section on the digital map, "didn't receive aid until hours later."
Javi glanced over, his own research momentarily forgotten. He squinted at the anomalies. "Could be a logistical oversight," he suggested, but the skepticism was evident in his voice. Both knew the small town's layout; there was no reason for such a delay unless something—or someone—had interfered.
"Or it could be deliberate," Tori countered, her mind racing as she imagined what might warrant such an interruption.
"Here," Javi pointed at a paragraph midway through the document. "There's a brief mention of an 'unrelated casualty' found near the clinic. No name given, but timing and location match our nurse's death." He leaned back, rubbing the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "It's labeled as incidental, not connected to the quake or its aftermath."
"Unrelated? Incidental?" Tori repeated, disbelieving. The words tasted like ash in her mouth. There was nothing incidental about a life snuffed out. The notion that the nurse's death was a separate event seemed deliberately misleading, a veil drawn over the ugly face of truth.
If someone had tampered with records and reports... then it meant someone in an official capacity might be involved somehow.
A sudden knock on the door. It opened, and Tori glanced back.
A young officer stood in the doorway, waving a paper. "Er, you wanted that coroner's report on Emily Torres?"
"She the earthquake victim from three months ago?"
"Yeah, that's right."
Tori nodded in gratitude, extending a hand to accept the document.
Tori felt the weight of the coroner's report in her hands, a harbinger of secrets yet to be revealed. Her fingers traced the edges of the paper as she scanned the text, tension coiling within her like a spring. Then, she froze. "Lacerations?" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath lost in the hum of their makeshift office.
"Let me see," Javi said, leaning over her shoulder, his proximity a familiar comfort in the gloom of uncertainty that surrounded them. He squinted at the report, his eyes darting back and forth across the words that leaped from the page like dark omens.
"Consistent with sharp force trauma," Tori read aloud.
"Same as with Sarah. Could've been a knife attack..."
"Or debris from the earthquake," Tori added.
"Right. We need to see the scene for ourselves." Javi's decision was made with the same precision he afforded every investigation—calculated, unwavering.
"Agreed. If there are answers, they're not going to be found in these reports alone," Tori said, rising from her chair with a sense of purpose that seemed to fill the room. They had been through this routine before, a dance of preparation and anticipation as they geared up for the field.
Tori checked the charge on their cameras, the lenses unblinking eyes ready to capture whatever lay hidden in the shadows of the small town. Javi packed flashlights, the beams poised to cut through darkness both literal and figurative.
"Protective gear?" Tori asked, holding up two sets of gloves and masks—a necessary precaution in a world where danger often came unseen.
"Check," Javi confirmed, sliding his into a side pocket of his sturdy backpack. His movements were methodical, practiced—a ritual honed by countless investigations.
As Tori pulled on her jacket, the white strands of her hair catching the light, she felt the familiar surge of adrenaline. She clipped her holster to her belt, the weight of the firearm a grim reminder of the risks they faced.
"Ready?" Javi asked, his hand already on the door handle, itching to step out and challenge the unknown.
"Let's do this," Tori replied, her resolve as unyielding as the earth itself.
With their equipment in tow, they left the safety of their office behind.
***
The engine hummed a steady rhythm as Javi and Tori's car hugged the curves of the serpentine roads leading them inexorably towards the small town. Headlights cut a swathe through the encroaching darkness, the evening sky above deepening to an inky blue. Inside the vehicle, the low murmur of their conversation contrasted sharply with the silence outside.
"Could it have been premeditated?" Javi mused aloud, fingers tapping an uneven beat against the steering wheel. "The earthquakes provide a perfect cover-up."
"Maybe," Tori pondered, her gaze fixed on the shadows flitting past the window. "But what if it was opportunistic? The chaos after the quake, someone sees a chance and takes it."
"Doesn't feel random though," Javi countered, glancing briefly at Tori before his eyes returned to the road. "Those lacerations were... specific, deliberate."
"Agreed." Tori's voice was tense, and she subconsciously traced the outline of her holster through her jacket. "There's a pattern here we're not seeing yet. And I can't shake off the feeling that whatever happened to that nurse is just scratching the surface."
"Let's not jump to conclusions until we've seen the place ourselves," Javi cautioned.
Finally, the car crested the last hill, and the small town lay before them, its presence barely discernible in the twilight. They rolled into the outskirts, the car's suspension groaning softly as they crossed over into a palpable stillness.
"Doesn't it strike you as odd?" Tori broke the quiet, her seafaring eyes scanning the desolate streets. "No signs of repair crews, no lights in the houses. It's like everyone just... vanished."
"Earthquakes do strange things to people," Javi replied, slowing the car to a crawl. "Fear can empty a town overnight. Let's find a place to park," Javi said, his voice low. "We'll start at the epicenter and work our way outwards from there."
"Agreed," Tori nodded.
The car crept to a halt, its headlights illuminating the skeletal remains of what was once a small clinic. Faded letters above the door, barely discernible beneath layers of dust and disrepair, spelled out a word that once offered comfort: "Healthcare." Now, it was just another remnant of normalcy, swallowed by calamity.
"Here?" Javi asked, his hand still on the ignition, as if reluctant to release the safety it provided.
"Looks like it," Tori confirmed, her gaze locked onto the building that stood defiantly against the backdrop of desolation. The caution tape flapped lazily in the breeze, a half-hearted barrier to the secrets inside.
Javi killed the engine, and the silence that followed seemed louder than any noise they had encountered before. For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, staring towards the quiet clinic.
She shot a sidelong glance at Javi, studying her partner. The handsome, olive-skinned man was staring off into the distance again, with that far-away look in his eyes. She hadn't wanted to push... but now? With things escalating...
He reached for the door handle, and she reached out, catching his arm.
He glanced down, frowning.
"Javi," she said. "What's up?"
"Hmm?"
"What's wrong?" she said.
He glanced at her. "Nothing. You okay?"
"I'm fine, but you've been quiet."
"I'm always quiet."
"Quieter than usual."
"Not all of us like to fill the silence," he said, testily.
"Hurtful," she said with a sniff. Then shrugged. "Maybe a bit deserved. But that is a dodge. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said more insistently.
"Javi, don't give me that. I can practically see the gears turning in your head," Tori persisted, her eyes searching his face for any hint of what troubled him.
He hesitated, his usually composed demeanor faltering ever so slightly. "It's just... this whole situation feels off. I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this than meets the eye."
She snorted.
"What?"
"You're bullshitting me."
"Am not."
"Fine then. Don't tell me. I just need to know you can do your damn job."
"Mhmm. You called your dad yet?" Javi asked innocently.
She glared at him. "It's not the same thing."
"I know. Because I'm fine. So drop it."
"Alright then," Tori said, releasing his arm and opening her door. The night air was cool and carried a hint of dampness, a stark contrast to the stale atmosphere inside the car. She stepped out onto the cracked pavement, her boots crunching on small stones scattered across the ground.
Javi followed suit, closing his door with a soft thud. The two of them stood side by side, staring up at the abandoned clinic looming in front of them like a specter of tragedy. The eerie silence of the town enveloped them, broken only by the distant rustle of leaves in the breeze.
"Let's go," Tori said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. With determined steps, she led the way towards the entrance of the clinic, the caution tape fluttering in a ghostly waltz as they passed through it.
The chill of the evening air carried a biting reminder that nature's wrath was not easily forgotten.
"Stay sharp," she reminded Javi, though it was more for herself. If he didn't want to talk, he didn't want to talk.
She wasn't going to push further and risk breaking something. She'd tried, and he'd rebuffed her. It was the best she could do.
"Mhmm," Javi replied, pulling a flashlight from the glove compartment. He handed another to Tori, and together, they approached the clinic with measured steps, their beams of light slicing through the encroaching darkness.
As they drew closer, the wind seemed to gather strength, howling through the broken windows and offering an eerie serenade. It carried with it the scent of decay and the whispered tales of those who had once sought refuge within the clinic's now-abandoned halls.
"Anything?" Javi asked, peering through a cracked window pane, his breath fogging up the glass momentarily.
"Hard to tell." Tori angled her flashlight, trying to penetrate the thick shadows that clung stubbornly to every corner. She thought she saw a glimmer of something—a reflection or perhaps a piece of medical equipment left behind in the haste to evacuate—but it was impossible to be sure.
"Let's circle around," suggested Javi. "Look for a way in that won't have us crawling through broken glass."
Tori nodded, her mind already cataloging the patterns of destruction, the way the wind moved through the empty corridors unnaturally, as though even the air was disturbed by what had transpired here.
They continued their cautious perimeter walk, the echo of their footsteps a stark contrast to the hushed whispers of the town around them. The building held its breath, waiting for the intruders to uncover the stories etched into its walls—stories of panic, of chaos, and perhaps, of something far more sinister.
The door resisted at first, the hinges groaning with disuse as Javi leaned his weight against it. The cold metal of the knob bit into his palm.
"Ready?" he murmured, not taking his eyes off the sliver of darkness that greeted them as the door creaked open.
Tori nodded. Her hand hovered near her holster, a silent testament to their readiness for danger.
They stepped over the threshold together, the click of Tori's boots a counterpoint to Javi's softer tread. Inside, the clinic was a mausoleum of silence, save for the distant echo of the wind's mournful song slipping through the cracks.
Javi swept his flashlight across the room, the beam slicing through the gloom. Dust motes swirled in the artificial day, disturbed from their resting places atop abandoned counters and overturned chairs. As his light settled on a reception desk, layered with papers that had spilled like a cresting wave, he paused.
"See something?" Tori asked.
He gestured at her, pointed and the two of them stared at the item on the counter, going completely still.