Utility Company (Book 1): Blink

by Swardstrom, Will

  The hallway to the left of Wall’s office was the hall of legendary missions. Pictures lined the wall, commemorating some of the more notable missions. Chuck E. Cheese and the evil A.I. robots, Ronald Reagan replaced after his successful assassination by John Hinckley Jr., the mass proliferation of cilantro as a condiment...good times.

  On the opposite wall were the agents that were lost in the line of duty. Not all were dead, some were simply…not around anymore. The first three represented an expensive mission in the lives of agents: Agent Luck KIA, Agent Charm KIA, Agent Gold KIA. Those three were lost back in the infancy of the agency at the incident in Roswell. Although the whole mess was still shrouded in mystery and secrecy, it was the impetus to start something new: an agency to deal with weird, wacky and unexplainable phenomena with the mission of keeping Americans safe.

  The Agency was small but effective, composed of four investigative teams here in D.C., each with a dedicated science specialist assigned to them, an action team that could fly out of Andrews at a moment’s notice, a dedicated team of scientists assigned to the research and tracking of the phenomena that were discovered, two forensics teams, embedded agents stationed within other organizations such as the FBI or CIA around the country and at joint military bases around the world, and other specialists such as the ones who kept the ship going like Nora and Kiko.

  Smith had been with the agency since early 2001. Some of his action with Army intelligence had brought him to the attention of The Agency, particularly the UFO hunting in Bosnia and the joint task force on Chupacabra killings with Mexico‌—‌neither action officially acknowledged. His earliest work in The Agency had been as a junior agent under Agents Street and Wall with the other junior agents Jones, Edwards, and Barney. Jones was now a senior agent with a position similar to Smith’s. Edwards worked under Jones and Barney worked under Smith.

  Smith walked the line of photographs of the fallen or missing until he found it. Agent Street, Missing in Action, presumed dead, September 11, 2001. He went missing without explanation, but on the same night as a massive accident at a scientific black site on the evening following the terrorist attacks. Many within the Utility Company thought there might be a connection, but there was no proof that he had been there that night. No proof in fact, that anything at all was there that night.

  Agent Street was Smith’s first lead agent, albeit for a short time. He had been a forward thinker, direct and decisive. Smith had always thought he was someone to emulate as a leader of men.

  “Excuse me, Agent Smith?” Smith turned to see Kiko standing in the doorway of the director’s office. “The Director is available to see you now.”

  Smith thanked Kiko and walked into the office. Wall greeted him right at the doorway. As always, he posed an imposing figure. A man now in his mid 50’s, but very much in shape. The mountainous man encased Smith’s hand in his to shake it and led him into the office.

  “Good morning, Smith. How are things?”

  “Same as ever,” Smith replied. “General Tso’s chicken is still tasty, espresso is still needed...you know.”

  Wall chuckled a bit as he came around his desk to sit down. “Yep, and this job is still weird. You want this desk? I’ll trade you.”

  Smith shook his head, smiling as he did, “Naw, you’re stuck with it. You heard from the Analysis division?”

  “Yes,” Wall responded. “I was notified as soon as they had a suspicion something was going on, which was only an hour ago. We’ve started correlating the data with several ongoing cases around the country. I’ve started the process of coordinating with necessary agencies already.”

  “Okay, that sounds good. Am I lead on this one?”

  “Of course. You’re the top agent in house right now. Quick and Simmins’ teams are out on other assignments.”

  “Sounds good. I’m assuming you’ve dispatched Forensics already?”

  “I was just on the phone with Forensics before you stopped by. I’m sending them to the sites in North Dakota and Virginia. They’re packing as we speak. You’re getting the Jones team to send where you want and you’ll have to coordinate with an FBI embedded team in Michigan.”

  Wall stood up. “This looks like a real puzzle, Smith. I haven’t got the first clue what’s going on, but I envy you. Watch your backside.”

  Smith stood along with Wall. “Thanks Joe. We’ve got this.”

  _____

  The small briefing room was packed with two teams of agents plus several supporting specialists, along with an FBI team from Michigan videoconferencing in. Smith and Dr. Anna took turns briefing the teams.

  “Two days ago we began to notice correlations between some recent radiation spikes in a few isolated locations across the U.S. and the disappearances of people, sometimes entire families,” Anna was saying, “By the time our analysts caught on, five different incidents had occurred in five different states, starting in Arizona, then North Dakota, Michigan, Virginia and Tennessee.”

  Smith took over, “The local authorities do not have coherent explanations for any of the disappearances. Two of the radiation spikes are correlated to missing persons cases. The entire family at two of these homes simply disappeared. At another location the primary resident is now the top suspect in a serial murder spree.”

  Anna nodded and took up where he left off. “Yes, and the remaining two radiation spikes we mentioned changed part-way through and then went off the charts briefly. Reports from those locations indicate a significant hole in the ground where the homes of those families used to be.”

  The other analyst, Dr. Liszt cleared his throat and spoke up, “The occurrences appeared to be happening on a precise sequence of every twelve days since the incident on November 20th in Arizona. The Tennessee incident is five days old right now.”

  Smith broke in, “Which, excuse me, Dr. Liszt…” the reclusive analyst nodded and took a step back, “Which gives us seven days to figure out as much as we can before the next projected occurrence.”

  “Now that we know what to look for we believe we can track the radiation spike signature whenever it shows up on our monitors,” Dr. Anna said. “The specific cocktail of radiation is unique to these events and we should know nearly immediately when it happens again.”

  One of the junior agents, Agent James from the Jones team, piped up, “What does ‘nearly immediate’ mean?”

  Dr. Liszt replied, “Well, it does depend on the satellite scan and the processing power of our computers, but...”

  “A few seconds later,” Dr. Anna interrupted. “Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of warning the next time.”

  “Sounds good,” Smith said. “Thank you.” He looked back at the gathered crowd. “Anybody have anything to add?”

  Nothing.

  “All right, I don’t want to lose any more people. I want to send a team to every site and recover every possible clue.”

  “Agent Jones’ team will take Dr. Liszt and go to the first event site in Arizona. Look for any indications of how this started.”

  “One of our sleeper units inside the FBI has been activated to coordinate with the ongoing serial murder investigation in Michigan. The manhunt is going to complicate our own investigation there.”

  “Forensic teams are already on their way to scrub the blast sites in North Dakota and Virginia. Officially those are both natural gas explosions, but if anyone asks any deeper questions they will be sent away thinking that we’re hunting ghosts or meth labs or undetonated mines from 1943.”

  “The Smith team will be taking Dr. Anna and we will go to Tennessee. Let’s get some answers.”

  Dryness

  The mirror must have been lying. Nik Davidson stared at it, not quite believing what he saw. It looked like his forehead had dry white flakes from the tops of his eyebrows to his widow’s peak. He reached up to feel it. It felt normal when he rubbed it. Yet, the reflection was there. It was even a bit red now.

  “Hey Pen,” Nik called out to his wife Penny, “Do yo
u have any lotion that won’t make me smell like a flower?”

  Penny’s head popped around the doorframe, one eyebrow cocked. “Lotion? For my manly man? Really?”

  Nik bent down to kiss her soft forehead (did she lotion that?) and gave her a playful scowl. “Yes, I need it, and thanks for watching out for my manliness.”

  She opened the top right drawer, pulled out a bottle, and handed it to him with a wink. “You can count on me in that department. Here you go. Don’t use it all.” She goosed him on the way out.

  Nik admired her retreating form for a second, marveling at his luck. He shook his head and looked at his reflection again. His forehead sure looked dry. It might not feel that way, but he might as well take care of it. He applied the lotion, put it away and finished up in the bathroom.

  Walking out of the master bathroom, he saw his tablet on a nearby dresser and paused. Penny had a point. It was weird for him to ask for lotion. He had never before in the thirty-five years of his life put lotion on his forehead. It was a foreign concept. His hands? Sure. His feet? Maybe. Just to be funny he went to his tablet, opened Facebook and posted about it.

  “My forehead was dry, so I put lotion on it.” – Jan. 11 at 8:19 a.m.

  He chuckled to himself. It was a little innocent fun. Who puts lotion on their forehead, anyway?

  Apparently a lot of people, according to Facebook. All Nik wanted was a quick post on Facebook that would make people laugh. Accomplishment achieved. Friends submitted many of their own mundane accomplishments for the day, including the lotion on their forehead. It was a popular post, sending notifications to Nik’s phone all morning. Eventually though, the post settled down.

  Nik went about his day and eventually forgot about his forehead.

  _____

  Getting ready for school the next day, Nik couldn’t help looking in the mirror. He didn’t consider himself vain, but he needed to style his hair. He had hair that stood up and shot out like the straw from a scarecrow and fixing it just the right way was always the bane of his morning existence. The typical morning routine involved a lot of hair spray. Some people might swear by mousse or hair gel, but he never liked to get his hands messy.

  Nik peered into the mirror and saw his forehead. Flaky. Again. One day of lotion appeared to have had no effect whatsoever. He groaned, updated his Facebook status again in the hope of a few more laughs, and then dutifully applied the moisturizer to his face.

  “Forehead update. DAY 2: still dry. Applying more lotion.” – Jan. 12 at 7:04 a.m.

  Once again, the post worked.

  People commented. People liked it. Nik decided to keep it going. But then something strange began to happen.

  _____

  On the third day of his dry forehead, Nik was relegated to the kids’ bathroom. Penny was using the master bathroom and wouldn’t get out. It was her day to be in court, representing a bevy of local hooligans, deadbeats, and possibly innocent people. Nik’s teaching job was nice, but Penny’s job at the local law firm really paid the bulk of their bills each month. Still, Nik preferred his own bathroom to the smaller one the kids used.

  “You do want me to shave my legs, right, Love?” she called out over the noise of the water running in the bathtub.

  “Yes,” Nik replied with a sigh.

  “Well, so do my clients. Your job is great, but we aren’t paying the mortgage on this house if I show up for a meeting with hair poking through my panty hose,” Penny shouted back.

  Good point, Nik acknowledged to himself, and headed to Kira and Sisco’s bathroom.

  A few minutes later, when Nik looked in the mirror, he didn’t see any dry skin. It would have been a relief‌—‌one less thing to worry about, but then when Nik went to his own bathroom to fix his hair and brush his teeth, he noticed the flakiness on his forehead had returned. Less than fifteen minutes at the most had passed, yet it appeared as though the area above his brows was peeling off right before his eyes.

  Must be a dry spot in the bedroom, Nik thought, laughing to himself. Just to be sure, he leaned over to the left to look in Penny’s mirror‌—‌it was a dual sink, dual mirror master bath‌—‌and dropped the lotion cap under the counter before he got a good look. He bent down to get on his hands and knees, trying to find the cap, when he got a bump on the top of his head in the bargain. The pain shot through his skull and Nik forgot all about the mirror by the time his daughter Kira called for some help down the hallway. Life took over, and looking in Penny’s mirror was relegated to the back of Nik’s mind.

  The back of his mind was beginning to suspect something though. That was the first day Nik noticed something off. He knew he wasn’t a supermodel, but a person had to look at their image in the mirror from time to time.

  On the third day Nik just shrugged it away with a bit of a sore head, but the truth was staring him in the face.

  Literally.

  Tennessee

  After the plane’s wheels hit the ground, Smith’s team drove to a remote area of Tennessee in two different SUV’s. Smith planned a division of labor and needed to split the team. In Smith’s vehicle, Agent Black drove with Smith in shotgun position and Dr. Anna in the back. The other car held Tinker, Barney and Smith’s number two, Wesson.

  Smith called over to the other car as they were approaching their destination, “Wesson, you take your group into town. Check in with the locals. See if you can get any word on what happened here the other day.”

  Smith could practically hear Wesson’s wink and nod, “Right-o boss. Keep in touch.”

  The lead car turned left while the other car kept going on the main road. The side road Black had turned on eventually became a gravel road, and the SUV slowed down.

  Smith turned around to look at the scientist in the back seat. “Dr. Anna, what do you want to do when we get there?” he asked.

  She looked up from her efforts to brace herself from the rattling and shaking of the car, “I believe I can find the source of our radiation by tracking concentration levels. It will be a few minutes, but I believe I can take you straight there.”

  Smith nodded. “That sounds good. You start with that. We’ll police the area.” The SUV pulled into a driveway of a fairly basic farmstead. The two-story farmhouse likely built in stages starting eighty or so years ago was on the right as they pulled in. The barnyard and animal pens were straight ahead and a group of grain silos were to the left as they drove down the long driveway.

  Smith gestured towards Agent Black, “I want you to check out the yard, starting with the grain silos. I’ll start with the barn and work my way toward you. If we don’t find anything, we’ll head to the house and start checking it out with Anna.”

  Black nodded as he pulled the car up across from the front of the house next to what looked like an animal pen. Agent Black still didn’t talk much after the accident a few months ago. He was getting therapy for the throat and while he was cleared for active duty, the full range of his voice would still take a while to fully come back‌—‌if it ever did.

  There were no animals in the pens. The report Smith had seen stated that they were taken into county custody due to the unknown whereabouts of the family.

  Anna got out and headed toward the back of the car while Black and Smith separated and went in opposite directions.

  Agent Smith walked past the empty henhouse and came up to what looked like the back entrance of the dilapidated old barn. The wood was weathered under multiple coats of red paint which were peeling as if to show the history of the structure. Smith rounded the corner and found an old tractor parked inside the door. A thick layer of grime and grain dust lay on all the surfaces. It looked as if it hadn’t moved in years.

  He stepped inside and the floor let out a long creak. Birds scattered out from the rafters and several flew out the door while a couple others returned to their perches. Although the old wooden floor was loosely covered with stray pieces of old brown straw and dust of all kinds, it creaked with every step.

&n
bsp; There were old, obviously disused, stalls on both sides. Smith checked each side as he progressed towards the front entrance of the barn. There wasn’t anything unusual in the barn so far. Just to the right of the front entrance, a wide ladder led up to the hayloft. Smith eyed the planks, but they looked newer than the rest of the barn. He took two steps up and heard a loud shuffling sound from above.

  Smith glanced quickly around as he drew his gun. There was still nothing in the barn, but a rope swaying outside the front entrance caught his attention. Smith froze, knowing what that meant.

  Something or someone was upstairs.

  A Blink

  On the fourth day after the initial dryness of his forehead, Nik happened to be in the kids’ bathroom once again helping his son Sisco with his morning routine. As the seven year old heaped on a bit too much toothpaste, Nik took a quick look at himself in the mirror and did not see anything to worry about. The forehead dryness problem was solved, Nik decided.

  When he went back to his own bathroom to brush his teeth, he looked up at his forehead and dropped his brush in the sink as he saw it yet again‌—‌a forehead as dry as a bone. Nik shook his head and went about the rest of his routine, but when he went to put on the now-daily lotion, Nik thought he saw something...something off, so he looked an extra few seconds at the mirror. That’s when it happened. When everything changed.

  He saw himself blink.

  Nik didn’t know what to think. As soon as he saw it, he walked out of the bathroom in a daze. He wandered to the kitchen, where Penny was scrambling some eggs for the kids’ breakfast. He must have had a strange look on his face, because the next thing he knew, she was shaking his shoulder.