Heat Wave (Spitzer)

The exciting all-new prequel series to Flashback and Dinosaur Apocalypse... "There's no footprints," said Tess, examining the ground. She looked up at him as though she felt suddenly ill. "Nothing leading away. Just ours and his walking to and from..." She paused, her lower lip trembling. "How is that possible, Coup? And not just him but-where is everybody else? Where are the other cars? How in..." And then she just broke suddenly and rushed into his arms, and they remained like that for several minutes, during which time he scanned the sky, and, to his deep relief, spied a passenger jet arching glimmeringly across the sky, its contrail just as white and reassuring as angel dust. "Look, there, see," He released her abruptly and spun her around. "We're not in the Twilight Zone, after all. Hey, yo, Freedom Bird! We're down here!" He waved his arms back and forth. "Give us a lift! Albuquerque or bust!" Yet there was something odd about the plane's trajectory he hadn't initially noticed-or had he? For it truly was arching, which is to say it wasn't crossing the sky so much as it was...falling from it. Yes, yes, he could see now that was true, as he disengaged from Tess and paced through the scrub, tracking the jet as it curved gracefully in the sun- to finally plummet straight into the far hills, where it vanished like a specter in a plume of fiery smoke. And then he was gripping the shotgun and trying to wrest it from its rack; but, finding it locked, had to search the car for a key: upon which, realizing there were none that would fit, he located a small button just beneath the seat and depressed it-freeing the weapon. "I don't think that's a good idea," said Tess as she tailed him back to the Mustang, but he ignored her until they were again seated inside, after which he turned to her and said, briskly, "Maybe it is and maybe it isn't, but I'm doing it, okay?" And it was on the tip of her lips to respond when they heard the sound: a kind of muffled whimper-something between a chirp and a meow-coming from outside. Coming from beneath the car.

Still he continued: "The wall was necessary. It was necessary, okay? Look, we had to. We had to. People say the money could have been better spent-that it didn't need the spikes, say, or the gangway for the guards, or the mote. But I play into people's fantasies. People may not always think big themselves, but they can still get very excited by those who do. That's why a little hyperbole never hurts. People want to believe that something is the biggest and the greatest and the most spectacular. In the case of my wall, it is the biggest and the greatest and the most spectacular-I mean, have you seen it? Beautiful. Beautiful. Wouldn't you say, Coup?" Coup looked around as people started to wake up. "Well, I-I guess as far as walls go-it's a monster, that's for sure. Makes for some great shade. About 50-billion dollars' worth." Nobody said anything. "I take it you don't agree," said the President. "I'd say your instinct on that is flawless," said Coup. He looked the man squarely in the face. "As always." Tucker just looked back-his large eyes puffy and purple, his brow furrowed. It was pretty clear that he wasn't used to being challenged-on anything. "What's not coming through anymore, Coup?" Abbie yawned and tried to intervene woozily. "Has anyone eaten anything? I'm starving ..." "No, no, no. What's not coming through anymore?" Coup pinched the bridge of his nose, already tired with the conversation. "Look, how about we just leave it-" "Murderers, Coup. Drug runners. Human traffickers. Bing bing, bong bong, bing bing. You name it. Rapists ..." "Murderers and rapists ..." "Well, someone was doing the raping, Coup! I mean, somebody was doing it. Who was doing the raping? Who was doing the raping?" "Jesus, I was doing raping, can we drop it, si?" said Johnny from Tuscan, and stood, leaving the group. Tucker and Coup looked at each other as Briggs straightened in his chair. "Going to I.D. him, Chief?" said Coup, his eyes still locked with the President. And then something thumped against the window and everyone jumped, and when they all focused on it they saw an enormous tri-clawed hand pressed open-palmed against the glass; a hand which moved downward as they watched so that the tips of its claws scraped like fingernails on a chalkboard. Then it was gone, retreating into the gloom-within which Coup saw a massive shape shift and move forward, even as another massive shape crossed opposite it, so that it was clear to him that whatever had touched the window was not alone.