Page 11

I was home for only half an hour or so when there was a knock on my door. I had the TV on and a beer in my hand, trying to appear as casual as possible when I opened the door. And there they were—two men in black suits, wearing sunglasses. Even though Gromit had warned me, I was still shocked to see them. I thought that whole government uniform thing was just in the movies.

Leaning against my doorjamb, I looked them over. “What are you—Mormons? Didn't you see the sign?” I pointed at the sign on my door that told annoying people, including religious ones, to leave me the fuck alone. Please.

The men pulled out their credentials, just as they do in the movies, and held them up for my inspection.

“I'm Agent Watkins,” the white guy said.

I looked at the Asian. “If you say you're Agent Holmes, I slamming this door in your face.”

“Do I look like a Holmes?” The guy got points for showing a personality. “I'm Agent Chinen. Are you Mr. Gabris?”

“Yup. What are you agents of—chaos? If it's chaos, I'm down. I used to D&D when I was a teenager.” I peered at Chinen's badge. “NSA? Seriously?” I straightened. “Are you fucking with me? Who hired you to mess with me? Come on, I won't tell them you cracked this soon. You can finish the job early and still collect your pay.”

“The credentials are authentic, Mr. Gabris.” Watkins didn't look pleased by my performance, but he also looked as if he were buying it. “We need to speak with you about a matter—”

“Of national security?” I finished for him with a wide grin and backed up. “Whatever, man. Come on in. You guys want a beer?” I headed into the living room.

They followed me, with Watkins saying, “I assure you, Mr. Gabris, we are NSA agents. And that's a no to the beers.”

“But thank you,” Chinen added. Because evidently he was the only one with manners. He even shut the door behind him. Although, that might not have been a good sign.

I sat down on the couch and motioned at the chairs. “Take your pick. And go on then—I'm dying to know what this is about.”

“Mr. Gabris, we received a very unusual report of a man who showed up on your latest job site,” Agent Watkins got right to it, speaking even as he sat down. “The report was . . . unbelievable. However, around the same time that the sighting of this individual occurred, a NOAA GOES picked up—”

“Whoa, buddy!” I held up a hand. “You're shooting a lot of letters at me.”

“NOAA—the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration,” Chinen said as if he'd studied for an exam. “They have satellites that monitor the earth. The satellites are called GOES for short—Geostationary Operational Environ—”

“Okay, I get it! You could have just said 'a satellite.'” I shook my head. “Now, what did this satellite see?” I looked back at Watkins.

“The satellite picked up an extreme electrical discharge.” Watkins leaned forward as if he were about to shock me. “A discharge of over five hundred million volts.”

I just stared at him.

Without any expression on his face or tone to his voice, Chinen said, “A really big lightning strike is about one hundred million volts.”

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “That's a lot of electricity. Was it a storm?”

“We don't know, Mr. Gabris. That's why we're here.” Watkins leaned back and stared at me. “They tracked that discharge to the sky above an Oregon forest. A forest that was on fire. The same fire that—”

“I was trying to put out?” I lifted my brows. “Dude, do you always drag things out like this?”

“Yes,” Chinen answered for him. “The fact is that we have a strange coincidence, Mr. Gabris. An extreme electrical discharge and the appearance of a man of unknown origin in the same location at the same time. We would have dismissed the report of a strange man under other circumstances. As it is, we must investigate.”

“Uh-huh.” I scowled at them. “Are you talking about the naked guy?”

“Yes, Mr. Gabris.” Watkins all but rolled his eyes. “We're talking about the naked guy.”

“Okay, can you drop the Mr. Gabris? You sound like you're part of the matrix.”

Chinen snorted a laugh, then pressed his lips together and cracked his neck. His blank expression settled back into place.

Watkins took a deep breath. A moment passed, then he tried again. “How would you prefer to be addressed?”

“My friends call me Met. You can too.” I lifted the beer at him. “Now, I'm getting that you think there's a connection between the naked guy and this discharge.” I wrinkled my face. “Ugh, that sounded gross.”

Watkins leaned forward again. “Where is the man? We were told that you left the site with him.”

“I did,” I admitted. “The guy was in shock. He was raving about being from another world.” I laughed to sell the lie. “The medic that treated him thought he might be a runaway from a psych hospital or something. So, I was gonna drive him to the closest hospital and see if anyone recognized or if they could call around, you know?”

“You say you were 'gonna drive him?'” Chinen caught that gem right away.

“Yeah. I got him all the way to Portland and then the guy started freaking out. Something about the buildings. He jumped out of the car before we even made it into the city, right at the Commercial Street ramp. You know the one?”

“We aren't from here.” Watkins squished up his already pinched face.

“Oh. Well, he jumped out of the truck. I couldn't get out and chase him since I was in traffic. It was all I could do to get his door shut. There's a lot of homeless in the area, so he blended in pretty quickly too. I lost sight of him in seconds.” I shook my head. “I felt awful about it. Still do. The poor guy. He could have been a vet. Fuck!” I ran a hand over my face, letting my real anxiety peep through for a second. “What if he had PTSD? Shit, maybe I should have called the Portland Police and warned them.” I leaned forward. “Should I do that? Or can you do that? They'd probably listen more to you than me.”

Chinen looked at Watkins. Watkins looked as if he were about to explode.

Chinen looked back at me. “We'll handle the Police, Met. Don't worry about that. For now, could you confirm for us the events of the day? Did this man put out a forest fire?”

I burst out laughing.

Watkins and Chinen just stared at me.

I stopped laughing. “You're serious?”

“That's what several people have reported.”

Chinen corrected Watkins with, “Actually, most said that the man showed up and then the fire went out. They couldn't attribute it to the man, but they said they believed he was connected.”

“I mean, yeah. The fire went out after he showed up.” I sat back with a frown, trying to look as if the thought that Kas had put out the fire was just occurring to me. “It was odd timing. But odd shit happens all the time.” I shook my head. “I've seen fire turn in on itself. I've seen it take shapes that would send chills down your spine. Weird shit. It even shrieks sometimes. Sounds like a monster. But it's just fire. Science can explain all that shit. Hell, I'll bet you that electrical storm had something to do with it. Ask a scientist or a weather reporter. They'll tell you how crazy nature can get. And everything that science can't explain, you can blame on heat hysteria. In the middle of a fire, you get put under a lot of strain both mentally and physically. You sweat in your suit, you don't have your complete line of sight, and you get fucking tired. It's not uncommon for people to see things. We call it going tits-up—overheated and under-hydrated.”

“But it's a fact that the fire was raging and then it stopped,” Watkins said. “That wasn't heat hysteria. It's a fact.”

“I know. I was there and I've already told you that the fire went out. Is it unusual for a fire of that size to simply go out? Fuck, yeah, it's unusual. But, as I said, you should be talking to someone who knows more about electricity. I don't know what happened. To be honest, I don't fucking care. In my line of work, when something unusual happens that helps you, you just say a prayer of thanks and maybe donate more at church that Sunday. You don't question it.”

“So, you don't think the naked guy did it?” Chinen asked.

I scratched my head and took a sip of my beer. “Fuck, I dunno. He was saying some strange things. Maybe he was an angel.”

“What did he say?” Watkins demanded.

“Something about the fire. He wasn't worried about it hurting him. He had control of it.”

“He said he had control over fire?” Chinen narrowed his stare at me.

“Yeah, but that's impossible,” I said. “The guy was obviously nuts. To wander into the middle of that blaze, you'd have to be. And then there was the fact that he was nakey. The fire going out was a hell of a coincidence, but that's all it was. I'm sorry, but there's no such thing as a man who can control fire. This isn't a Stephen King novel, guys. Come on. You don't believe this shit, do you?” Then I let my face go slack, and I leaned forward. “Holy shit! Are the X-Files real? Are you actually paranormal hunters or some shit like that? The real-life Mulder and Scully? Does the government know about aliens? Are there aliens?” I lowered my voice to say, “Just whisper yes or no. I won't say anything.” I slid my stare around the room. “Is my house bugged? Just nod or shake your head.”

Watkins was over my act. He stood up with an exasperated huff. Chinen glanced at his partner as he left, then leaned in. I leaned in as well, eagerly meeting him halfway.

Chinen whispered, “No.”

“Aw!” I flung myself back with a laugh. “Man, you had me going for a second!”

Chinen chuckled as he stood up.

I hurried to my feet. “Oh, so that's it?”

“Unless you have the naked man hidden somewhere in your house,” Chinen shot back.

I snorted a laugh. “You're free to look in the cupboards if you want.” I waved at the hallway.

Watkins paused near the front door, then looked back.

I wondered if I'd taken the ruse too far.

“Are you seriously going to search this man's house?” Chinen asked his partner.

“Yes, I think I am. He just gave us permission, after all. Why not conduct a thorough investigation? Then we can be absolutely certain about him.” Watkins headed for the hallway. “Watch those stairs while I search the first floor.”

I shook my head and sat back down, waving at the chair Chinen had been using.

Chinen sighed and sat down.

“You sure you don't want a beer?” I asked him.

“Can't. Do you have any soda?”

“Sure, buddy.” I got up and went to the kitchen, walking past Watkins who was on his knees, looking under the bed Kaspian had slept in. Thank God Kas had straightened the blankets.