Mercury-vapor arc lamps flooded the rolling fields and pastures of the Burnstone property as if some favoring god had provided this tiny portion of the world it's own independent solar system shedding waves of light into the nighttime darkness that cloaked the rest of the township. Fixed on stand-a-lone tripods, or mobilized by the use of roving helicopters, flood lights leached away all natural color giving the pushed back pre-dawn gloom characteristics liken to a movie shot with black and white film..

Below the circling choppers a plethora of authority vehicles ringed the old farm house with strobe warning lights flashing blue, white, and red, lending the unsuspecting eye to assume perhaps a parade was about to commence. The FBI, Mesa County Sheriff's Deputies, Utah State Police, and the County Medical Examiners Office where all represented here under the guiding hand of FBI Agents Hal Pigg and Samantha De La Cruz.

The two head investigators of the Mad Muse Case had been the first to arrive on the scene at approximately 4 am. After discovering the remains of Agent Mallory they immediately called for back up requesting assistance from the Mesa County Sheriff's Department. Some 45 minutes later, the scheduled FBI-ERT arrived and were currently gathering evidence in and around the perimeter of the house.

Samantha pulled her cell phone from the belt of her black cotton slacks and punched Hal Pigg's number while standing in the middle of a dirt packed access road at the far west corner of the Burnstone property- nearly an eighth mile from the farm house. Within the outstrip of her location, behind the chopped atmosphere of circling helicopters, she could still make out the frustrated yips and whining barks of track dogs and stern replies of their trainers somewhere to her left much closer to the structure of the homestead.

It occurred to her since the beginning of their working relationship this phone call marked the first time she and Hal had been separated. He was currently in Grand Junction some twenty miles south of Palisade organizing a network of All Points Bulletins in an attempt to apprehend Herman Gilespie before he could reach Denver.

With night vision technology, and two Sheriff Deputies accompanying her, she'd just finished an interior room to room search of dilapidated stick frame farm worker housing directly behind her position. A sprawling array of bunk rooms and outhouses totaling some 150 feet in length..It's sagging roof line traced against a silver horizon like the hollow specter of a long forgotten ghost town.

Her Mesa County backup stood talking amongst themselves washed in the headlamp beams of their black and white Ford Bronco. The vehicle's purring idle and warm interior lighting seemed to Samantha as much a comfort as a posture of readiness..Even here, given her close forty foot proximity to it's location, she felt alone and vulnerable..The residue of what had happened, and the threat of what may still remain, sent chills down her back beckoning a primordial fear. She fought against the emotion sensing that if fully allowed to access her conscious mind, she might be reduced to the likes of a terrified child..Two subsequent rings on Hal's phone, and the space between them, felt like an eternity before he finally picked up.

"Hey good lookin'," he said, sounding like someone doing their best to solidify their attention while being pulled in multiple directions at the same time.

"I know your busy," she replied.."Just wanted you to know the out-buildings in the back forty have been cleared..Still no sign of Denason."

"Right," he paused then asked, "No luck with the dogs yet?"

"Not that I can tell..I am about to hitch a ride back over there and see if I can get an update."

"Well, from here it appears dawn is breaking. Maybe something will turn up after sunrise."

"Hope so," she replied.."How's it going over there?"

"Crazy," he said.."You know how it is jerking folks out of bed this early in the morning."

"Yeah," she chuckled, "I am one of them."

"We've got APB's in place all the way to Denver now," he advised.."I am trying as we speak to get enough bodies together to set up a net of road-blocks beginning 50 miles outside of the city."

"That's good work Hal"..She paused a moment then continued with what had been bothering her with the collection of evidence so far.

"The coroner's office put the Blackstone widow's time of death somewhere between 8 and 10 pm Monday."

"Yeah, that's a lot of maneuvering time on Gilespie's behalf," he replied.

"It doesn't wash with me," she said.."I can't believe he hung around over a full day's time, stayed put after the Meals on Wheels driver found the Blackstone woman, then hid-out during the initial investigation just to take on two armed FBI agents."

"Right," he agreed.."So what do you think?"

She shook her head fighting a nagging sensation that something lurked close by. With only the farm worker's housing behind her she fought the urge to bolt, trying desperately to convince herself she was merely experiencing a case of wild unfounded fear.

She dared not minimize the validity of her own intuition, even though her logical mind argued hard facts. She and the other officers had just completed an exhausting search of the structure behind her. Still, she sensed what ever had caused her to remain in a state of heightened awareness was near..Close enough to hear her conversation..

She forced herself to speak in a slow steady voice, lowering her projection. "I think Gilespie left town as early as Monday night, and something else showed up here to cover his back..Maybe to buy him some time."

"The accomplice," he said as her theory dawned on him..

"The Qlippoth," she whispered, noting to herself she'd halved the distance between herself and the deputies without a conscious effort to step in their direction.."It's creepy here honey..I wish you were with me."

"I am on my way," he said.."You still have your with the back up with you right?"

"Yes," she assured him.."Their right here."

He breathed an audio sigh.." Good..Don't let them out of your sight."

"Don't worry, I won't."

"I'll see you in an hour baby."

"Ok," she smiled.

Sergeant Cooper was senior ranking officer of the two deputies that accompanied Agent De La Cruz, and it was he who first spoke after she flipped closed her cell phone. His was a simple question inquiring weather or not she was ready to return to the farm house..Later in the morning he would find himself returning again to this moment, asking himself just what it was that had compelled her to answer his query with a negative response.

"I want to get these lights pointed that way," she directed the two officers indicating the Bronco's headlamps and an area left of the old row housing that consisted of waist high scrub- mostly mountain sage, and creosote brush. She radioed a helicopter pilot currently sweeping the perimeter of the property and requested additional lighting directly over the area west of her current location.

With the high beams engaged, Sergeant Cooper drove the bronco up a low rise off the dirt access road. Samantha swung the flat black MP5 off her shoulder and advanced on foot positioning herself near the driver's rear quarter panel with the junior officer stationed on the vehicle's right side. Sandy soil made up of decomposed granite rolled against the soles of her combat boots like tiny marbles forcing caution in each step to avoid slipping back down the swell of embankment. The entire course of travel was only fifty feet from the access road before the Bronco could encroach no further stopping some six feet from the first layer of dense growth.

The chopper soon arrived looming seventy-five feet above them, and Samantha could visibly trace it's outline suspended there like a insect, affording an impression the sky lightened somewhat over the last few minutes.

Sergeant Cooper pushed open the driver's door and stepped out carrying a 12 gage shotgun. He nodded to his partner and then to Samantha as she switched on the Surefire flashlight mounted under the barrel of her machine gun. Taking point, she pushed through the first wave of brush before them as it danced under the chopper's down draft like a forest coming to life under the spell of a wizard's magic.

Bracing against the brisk churning air she advanced through chest high brush stopping every few yards to squat and fan the flashlight at the bottom portions of thick stocky limbs. The foliage was thinner at the plants' bases giving her the advantage of a larger spread of light in which to direct her course.

Her decision to use the Surefire was a judgement call based on both pros and cons. If someone did indeed lay ahead of them in the dark, armed, dug in, and waiting, the beam of light transmitted from her rifle would be a sure giveaway making her an easy mark. The night vision goggles however would be useless at this point..With the dawn light fast approaching, any distinction in contrast would be washed out leaving her even more blinded..The headlights of the Bronco proved to be of little use penetrating the fanning chaparral, and although the helicopter's high intensity lighting was effective, it's circumference was limited to a hot spot of twenty feet that quickly diffused as it spread out over the heavy foliage. What had been the deciding factor in her choice to use the flashlight was an intuition. A reaction rising from the tiny hairs at the back of her scalp while speaking with Hal on the phone. An un-provable wisdom perhaps seeded and nourished over the course of tens of thousands of years of human evolution. A survival instinct only lately suppressed in reaction to a modern age were human beings were conditioned to react within a set design of natural orders and behavioral contracts created in the minds of philosophers, then chiseled out, beginning with concepts such as the Ten Commandments. Those concepts in turn debated, re-hashed, refined, amended over time in the form of written laws and by-laws enforced and protected by authority figures such as herself. She was certain that what ever it was she sensed coming from the thickets beyond her field of vision was of unfamiliar origin..Something more likely ungovernable by the human condition, and therefore not armed with the conventional tools of human weaponry...It was not a bullet she feared, but something far less definable, and infinitely more horrifying.

Some twenty yards into the thicket she began to advance on her belly using elbows and knees as leverage until the three of them came to a small clearing of sorts perhaps fifteen yards of sandy open area with only a few scattered boulders, and intermittent scrub brush. Beyond this clearing was yet another patch of dense coppice mixed with larger rocks giving way to what she could now identify as a grove of oak trees rooted in an underground water shed at the base of the Grand Mesa Plateau.

Using the radio, Samantha directed the chopper pilot to flood the immediate area beyond the clearing. Once illuminated, she and her companions ran crouching across the open area warily pointing their weapons at the blind side of large rocks like astronauts discovering the dark side of a cluster of mini-moons.

The second thicket proved even more time consuming and nearly impassable due to a standing array of automobile size boulders who's existence in this place seemed implausible. As if the only logical means of their placement was the result of some ancient battleground where a primitive but somewhat technologically advanced air force had dropped them from huge wooden framed bombers effectively squashing flat the ranks of approaching enemy infantry..Or perhaps launched from brobdingnagian size catapults positioned atop the nearly quarter mile high advantage point of the Grand Mesa Plateau-a zealot military strategist's wet dream. The trio found no choice but to skirt directly over the saddles of the obstacles exposing themselves entirely to their surroundings..Knees were skinned, and shins bruised in the effort, all of them breaking a slick sweat despite the cool morning air. She tasted a mixture of salty perspiration, dirt, and blood from a scratch incurred at the side of her mouth courtesy of the woody brush, and found herself scolding her own vanity when filled with concern of how she would look when Hal finally found her.

After forty-five minutes and an entire trek of perhaps three hundred yards they lay on their bellies at the outer edge of the oak tree grove with the sky reflecting pale hues of pink and yellow ribbons against high cirrus clouds. It was here she spotted Cyrus Denason some fifty yards ahead of her location laying face up in what appeared to be a pool of shallow water.

Samantha rolled onto her side radioing the chopper pilot and requested back up to her location.

"He's not moving," the junior deputy remarked.

"That's because he's probably dead," Sergeant Cooper commented.

"We can't tell anything from here," Samantha advised.."Anybody bring binoculars?"

Cooper spoke after a pause. "Yeah, their back in the truck."

"We'll be sitting ducks in that open area," the junior officer advised.

"Which really sucks because we've got an officer down out here," Samantha replied.

"Make that two," Cooper wheezed. "I am so beat their going to have to life-flight me out of here."

The radio hissed and the pilot's voice came back over the steady yammer of chopper rotors. "We've got SWAT standing by over in Grand Junction. I am heading out there now. Just sit tight. I'll be line dropping your personnel in the clearing behind you."

"Copy that," Samantha replied.

"Back in 45," the pilot assured.."Good work you guys."

She called Hal back and caught him in mid-flight making his return to Palisade. After a brief update he advised he was but five minutes from the Burnstone property and would immediately gather a couple of men, use the bronco as a landmark, and rendezvous her location on foot. Samantha requested a first aid kit, binoculars, bottled water, and a thermos of coffee.

"ETA on the SWAT is 45 minutes," she advised.."I'm going in closer to check Denason's condition."

"Sam,"...

"These guys can cover me Hal," she said not waiting for him to finish."

"Oh hell," he whispered jamming the Bell 206 accelerator paddles to full throttle.

She ended the call then turned to Sergeant Cooper.."Let's trade weapons Mister..That shotgun is useless from this distance and you can back me up with my rifle."

Cooper nodded handing her the shotgun and six extra shells that she slipped in the side pockets of her combat vest. It was a short barrel full choke model only effective a distance of fifty feet. With the junior deputy's armament a limited range 9 mm Glock, Samantha was hoping Sergeant Cooper would prove himself a skillful marksmen should she find herself in the middle of a trap..She had her own sidearm with her as well, but the shotgun was a better weapon should she be rushed to shoot in a close quarter situation.

She took a deep breath and sprinted a full twenty yards before taking cover against the fat trunk of the nearest oak tree. From her new vantage point she slid standing upright until she could afford a better view of Denason. He was laying face up alright but not in a pool of water..The liquid he was partially submerged in was thick-the consistency of jelly..A dark yellow color but still somewhat transparent like dirty amber glue. His eyes were open staring straight up at the overhead sky..His complexion was stark white as if his blood had rushed in a protective maneuver around his vital organs. She could see even from this distance that he was still alive by the slow rise and fall of his chest.

She called out to him twice, but he made no recognition she'd done so..She looked back at the deputies and nodded indicating she was once again about to move, then dug in her boot heels making another fifteen yard dash to the next tree with out incident..She'd just balanced her position when she heard the sound of running behind her and turned to see Cooper barreling across the landscape taking position behind the first oak tree..She grinned at him admiring his courage..He wasn't in the best of shape..Middle aged with a pronounced beer belly she figured he was working short time these days closing in on retirement pension.

"He's breathing," she confided indicating Denason, and Cooper grinned back at her wiping a slick stream of lather from his brow.

Hal's chopper broke the relative silence coming in from the south and after a quick fly by Samantha watched it disappear below the brush line no doubt putting down in the street outside the farm house.

"That your partner?" Cooper asked.

"Better believe it," she said still grinning.."Hot coffee in ten minutes buddy!"

The first ray's of morning sunlight broke the eastern horizon turning that portion of the heavens into the color of a ripe peach..Samantha's phone rang and she flipped open the case cover knowing exactly who was calling.

"I am there baby," he said obviously out of breath.."Give me five minutes."

"Denason's alive," she replied.."We're going to need a stretcher and EMT's standing by."

"Wow, that's great news!" Hal said.

"Yep," she answered putting her back against the tree trunk and squatting down to her knees.."I am no more than twenty yards from him and that's where I am staying."

"Thank you," he breathed and she could feel the relief in his voice.

"Your welcome," she giggled.."You owe me a full body massage later tonight."

"That's what I love about you," he returned.."Always something wonderful to look forward to."