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Stella and Hagen were still in Meyersdale the next day, dealing with the scene of Brook Irving’s suicide.

Journey’s sister, Michelle, was the head of the Evidence Response Team that came in and took over the site.

She arranged the cleanup, liaised with the local police, and got busy cataloging tons of new evidence.

The team sent cuneiforms on paper to Guy Lacross to analyze and overnighted the killer’s unlocked phone to Mac in Nashville.

They now had access to the Dispatch group.

While Mac was working on pulling the rest of the phone’s data, they all had screenshots of the pertinent pages.

Last night, Stella had called Tysen and given her a brief update.

The SAC suggested they have a full debrief via videoconference first thing the next morning.

Now Stella and Hagen sat at a small table in their motel room, huddled in front of a laptop, as Tysen let them into the meeting.

Guy Lacross was already there, as were Journey and Lucas, who’d placed themselves on mute since they were driving.

Lucas waved. A new square popped up, and Stella found herself looking at the crowded meeting room in Nashville, full of her friends and colleagues.

Mac, Caleb, Stacy, Anja, and Slade. Ander was heartbreakingly absent.

Tysen began. “Good morning, all. Agent Drake, I take it you’ve received the phone your colleagues recovered.”

Mac nodded. “I have. It was here when I arrived this morning.”

“Good. I appreciate you haven’t had access to the device for long, but what are your impressions so far?”

Mac pushed a lock of white-blond hair behind her ear.

“I’ve downloaded the data from the Dispatch group, and I’m still working through it.

There doesn’t seem to be too much else on the phone.

Separately, I’ve gained access to the group myself using the invitation Stella and Hagen sent me from Irving’s phone. ”

Excited, Stella leaned in. “They accepted you without question?”

“Sure did.” Mac grinned. “This is to say, to anyone who might be monitoring the group, it would appear that I’m a friend of Brook Irving’s and that he brought me in.

And it might be of interest that Irving’s death has gone unreported on the platform.

So I think we can probably assume he didn’t have any coconspirators in his hometown. ”

Hagen leaned forward. “Can you see who created the group, Mac?”

“Its creator is someone called TheAdministrator. But no one uses their real names in this group, including Brook. Initially, people talked about ancient history. Incas, pyramids, stuff like that.”

“Pyramids?” Guy sighed. “There’s a lot of stuff online about pyramids being made by aliens. Social media algorithms promote it. People will believe anything.”

Mac gave a brief nod. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened here. The messages begin by discussing archeology reports but soon move on to conspiracy theories and stuff.”

“Another end-of-the-world group. Will we never be free?” Lucas raised his hands to the sky as if asking a deity for help. Journey smacked his arms down.

Mac glanced up at the camera. “About a year ago, the translation of an ancient tablet was the first post. The Administrator says he came across a tablet that contained a prophecy about the end of the world. Or as he calls it, the Day of Changing. But he doesn’t say where he found this tablet, and he doesn’t ever post an image of the tablet itself.

We just get a few lines of cuneiform and a few lines of translation. ”

Guy didn’t look impressed. “That’s what’s making the thing so hard to track down. How did members of the group react to that?”

“The real history buffs dropped out early on. The Administrator insists that ancient tablets like these are ignored at the world’s peril.

The end of the world is coming, he says, and the only way people can redeem themselves and others is through sacrifice.

There’s a discussion. Some more people leave.

But then others join. The first killings begin in Pennsylvania. ”

“That’s Maureen King.” Stella tried to shake the memory of trekking through bloody snow.

Mac nodded. “Shortly after, crimes in Delaware, then in South Carolina follow.”

Tysen pushed her. “And how did that come across in the group?”

Mac flipped a page in her notebook. “I checked messages sent around the time of the murders. There were a number of declarations of sacrifices without images, likely false. This went on for a while. The Administrator then required photographs for proof and that each so-called sacrifice contain four specific cuneiform characters. Apparently, it adds some kind of meaning to the sacrifice.”

“And no one from the group went to the police or called the FBI on the images that were posted?” Stacy asked.

Tysen fielded this one. “We get reports like this all the time. People share snuff images online, pictures from accidents. All kinds of things. We can’t investigate them all, especially when it’s so hard to trace the senders. We have to prioritize.”

Slade cleared his throat. “So you’re saying there could be more murders out there that we haven’t connected to this cult yet, Mac.”

“It’s possible. If someone killed but didn’t write any of those cuneiforms on or near the body, cops might’ve overlooked the connection.” Mac took a deep breath. “There’s something else, though. The Administrator posted a message this morning.”

Stella and Hagen shared a worried look. They’d seen that message.

Mac continued. “He gave a date. The Day of Changing is tomorrow. December twenty-third. That’s when the tablet says the old world will end. According to The Administrator, everyone must make a sacrifice ‘when the sun is at its zenith.’”

Slade removed his glasses and folded the arms. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Mac sounded subdued. Tomorrow was far too tight a deadline.

Stella pulled her chair closer to the table. “He said that everyone must make a sacrifice?”

“That’s right.”

“How many people are in that group?”

“Total members? Seven hundred forty-eight.”

Tysen dropped back into her chair. Even through the screen, she looked pale and, for the first time since Stella met her, not entirely in control.

Journey spoke up. “This sounds like a pretty significant escalation on the part of The Administrator.”

Lucas added, “Agreed. We dealt with a significant escalation during our recent case with The Chosen.”

Stella’s head reeled. Even if only half the group participated, if they killed one person a piece, they’d have three hundred seventy-four murdered people by tomorrow afternoon.

And the members of this Dispatch group, from her experience, didn’t stop at one. In Claymore, three people were killed. In Nashville, five. Tyra Scharf alone had killed three.

Stella’s mouth was dry. She cracked open her bottle of water and sipped.

They had a little over twenty-four hours to stop a potential massacre scheduled to happen all across the country.

Tysen tapped her fingernail against the table. “Now that you’ve got access to the group, Agent Drake, send invitations to me, your two colleagues here, and Agents Russo and Sullivan. We need to be in the loop.”

Mac turned her attention to the phone, and a few seconds later, a ping announced Stella’s invitation to the infamous group.

An agent appeared in Tysen’s square and handed her a note.

Tysen unfolded the paper. “Shit. There’s been a murder in New Orleans.”

Mac scrolled through the Dispatch posts, her finger flying across the screen. “New Orleans? This is…there are hundreds of posts coming in, basically nonstop now. Gimme a sec. ”

Tysen read from her document as if she hadn’t heard Mac. “More severe bleeding and some of those cuneiforms carved into the victim’s forehead this time.”

Mac finally stopped and swallowed hard. “Someone posted a photo that matches that description.” She held up her screen.

Beside Stella, Hagen’s face hardened. “Mac, can we just round up the members? All of them?”

The question was focused and forceful and would take a lot of resources if it could be done. But he was right. If they couldn’t find the Administrator by tomorrow, maybe they could dent his organization.

Mac blew out her cheeks. “I’ve already put in multiple requests to Dispatch for the phone number and IP address of the Administrator. I’ll keep trying. They’re dragging their heels on the Tyra Scharf warrant for her DMs too.”

“We’re hitting a wall there.” Slade looked grimmer than Stella had seen him in a long time.

“I can ask for everyone in the group, too, but I suspect Dispatch will fight each one. They’re more cooperative than they used to be, but they’ll take their time, which we don’t have.” Mac tapped the phone screen as if it would magically reveal its secrets to her.

“And there are regular reminders in the chat about using the app without revealing your phone number,” Stella pointed out. She’d accepted Mac’s invitation and started scrolling herself.

“Users send the verification code to a burner phone, which they toss.” Mac almost seemed to admire the steps taken to thwart her. “Then they use a VPN to hide their IP. I suspect anyone we could identify would just be a lurker, not a killer.”

Stella took another sip of water. “Mac, were you able to identify Maureen King’s messages in the app? Or Trevor McAuley’s?”

“Some of the messages seem to match their actions, but everyone’s anonymous, so it’s hard to say for sure. However, we do know that Monty31 was Trevor McAuley’s handle. We learned that from his first victim’s phone. I found his account.”

Tysen nodded. “What else?”