Cam and I both snagged the day shift week one. He reported to Harborside Drive, and I reported to Leverett Circle. Shifts would be from 7:00 am until about 3:00 pm, though we had been told that paperwork would keep us there another hour or so most days.

  It was Thanksgiving today, and we both hoped to be home, making mashed potatoes, by 4:00 pm. Cam’s family had invited us to celebrate with them promptly at 6:00, and not to come empty-handed.

  My new barracks did not mess around. There would be no first week focused almost exclusively on paperwork. That was to be handled on my own time. The day started with me checking in at the duty desk, signing the log, and meeting my Field Training Officer (FTO), Trooper First Class Hanlon. No idea what his first name was. He didn’t tell me, and I was afraid to ask. Hanlon had already served 10 years and seemed to have the sense of humor of a rock.

  From there, the Shift Sergeant conducted a roll call, updated us on new postings and BOLOs, and discussed ongoing crash investigations and construction zones. He introduced me to the rest of the day shift, and then Hanlon and I hit the road. These guys clearly took their roles seriously.

  Hanlon and I were assigned to the Government Center and the TD Garden area in the heart of the city. Even though I wouldn’t be driving, I was happy to be starting in a part of Boston I was very familiar with. There were a few accidents to deal with in the morning, but for the most part, we spent our time managing construction vehicles and traffic flow. In the afternoon, Hanlon had me drive and serve as the point person. We addressed a minor fender bender near the tunnel entrance. I handled the crash report while Hanlon evaluated me.

  The day flew by, and it was dark outside by the time we headed back to the barracks to complete our paperwork. Hanlon told me I had done a good job. He also reminded me to bring him a coffee on Friday morning. It was the two longest sentences he’d said all day.

  Finally, at 6:15 pm, I got in my car and pulled out my cell to find two missed calls from Cam. I groaned, knowing I’d dropped the ball on the mashed potatoes. He was going to kill me. My eyes widened when I saw his follow-up texts, none of which had to do with Thanksgiving dinner.

  Cam: Holy shit, dude. Our apartment has been trashed.

  Cam: The front windows are broken in. Glass everywhere.

  Cam: Huge scratches down the hallway. Your room got the worst of it.

  We had never had a break-in at The Central. My heart pounded. Scratches down the hallway. That could only be one thing. Fines!

  What the hell were they doing in our apartment? Would the fines come after him? I began typing furiously.

  Max: Get out of there. Go to your parents. I’ll explain later.

  My Elysium Pro vibrated.

  fourth_wall: Can you handle this, Somerville?

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  Max: I’m on it.

  fourth_wall: Until you do, I have severed your other electronic methods.

  How had Dispatch known about the messages on my other phone? More than that, how was she able to cut off communication on it? Looking at it, I saw that while I currently had no bars, my last message to Cam had gone through. The how was a question to figure out another time. I floored it out of the parking area and pushed the speed limit all the way to my front door.

  Cam and the other tenants of the apartment building were standing out front. The landlord was also present, standing near some police and fire trucks. I sighed in relief as I realized everyone was accounted for. Cam saw me park and jogged over to my car.

  “So, this is weird, right?” Cam said, looking over his shoulder. “Do you think…”

  I shook my head in our generally understood “shut the fuck up” manner, and he snapped his mouth shut. “Cam. What the hell, man? You should be at your parents’ place.”

  My Elysium Pro vibrated, and this time I saw the notification in my mind, too. It was Lanie.

  songbird: Is something going on? Axel and I just got a ping to be on alert.

  Max: There’s a situation at my apartment. Came home to claw marks on the walls.

  songbird: Get out, Max. The Fines have a perfect sense of smell. Your flat must have attracted them.

  Turning back to Cam, I reiterated my directive, though more gently. “I’ll take care of The Central. Please let your parents know that I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it for dinner. But go, now.”

  Cam finally agreed to go after I promised to tell him if there was anything he could do. When he was finally gone, I made my way to The Central. Showing my badge to the officers out front bought me entrance into the apartment. Inside, it was worse than I expected. The power was out in the building, but I used the flashlight function of my otherwise non-functional phone to look around. Another notification came.

  songbird: Did you catch my last message? Get out of the city and lay low. I’m serious, Max.

  I didn’t respond right away. My entire attention was on the narrow hallway in front of me. I traced the claw marks down the walls leading to the kitchen, and ultimately to my room. There were five claw marks on both sides of the hall. That confirmed it. I remembered the five fingers the creature had, no thumbs.

  In the kitchen, an electrical spark flared from the overhead light, and I nearly shit myself. Turning, I entered my room and saw that everything had been overturned and ripped out of my drawers. The walls and my back window were broken, torn into by sharp claws and teeth. My bed and clothes lay in shreds around shattered furniture. I felt anger swelling in me. What if Cam had been here?

  “Hello?” A voice called from the front door. It was the landlord, with a whole contingent of officers.

  The power came back on at the exact moment. In the bright light, I could see more clearly the utter devastation the Fines had caused. But it had left the premises, and I should do the same, as Lanie had suggested. If it truly was tracking me, my friends and loved ones weren’t safe.

  I spent a few minutes dealing with the aftermath of the “break-in” with my landlord. We agreed that Cam and I would stay out of the apartment for a few days while he handled the clean-up.

  After I left, I headed north, not knowing exactly where I would go, but still seething. I took my first moment of quiet to message Lanie back. I knew I didn’t need to message Dispatch. She likely knew exactly what was going on.

  Max: Driving north now. I’m okay.

  songbird: Where will you go?

  Max: I don’t know. I’m thinking Maine. Somewhere wide open.

  songbird: It should be a populated area to mask your smell.

  Max: Didn’t seem to help me at The Central.

  songbird: Good point. Ping me when you get settled. And Max, you should activate your ride and upgrades now. Don’t forget to check the boot.

  I had heard that term before. The boot was what they called the trunk in the UK. I hadn’t thought to check it until she mentioned it, but now that I thought about it, if the glove box was full of magical blades, what the hell might be waiting for me in the trunk?

  - - -

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