Start of the Hunt

The next morning dawned just as grim as the day before. Danny nursed his third cup of coffee, watching the sun creep over the horizon with bloodshot eyes. He hadn't slept - couldn't sleep, really. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw those patterns in the blood, that wrongness in the violence that no human could have caused.

"They got here fast," Sarah commented, appearing at his elbow with her own coffee. She looked as exhausted as he felt, her usually immaculate uniform wrinkled from a night spent at the station. "FBI, I mean. Called yesterday, and boom - black SUVs rolling in before sunrise."

Danny grunted in agreement. The federal response had been suspiciously quick, almost like they'd been expecting something like this. Five identical black vehicles had arrived in precise formation, disgorging a small army of agents in equally identical black suits. All except their apparent leader, who stood out like a peacock in a chicken coop.

Special Agent Smith - "Just Smith, if you please" - cut an imposing figure in his tailored gray suit that probably cost more than Danny's monthly salary. Tall and lean, with aristocratic features and prematurely silver hair, he moved through the crime scene with an air of casual elegance that seemed completely at odds with the horror surrounding him.

What really got to Danny, though, was the man's expression. Where everyone else looked nauseated, shocked, or grimly professional, Smith appeared... amused. Like he was enjoying some private joke that no one else was in on.

"Fascinating," Smith murmured, crouching to examine a particularly gruesome splash pattern. His gloved fingers traced the air just above the dried blood, following some pattern that only he could see. "Simply fascinating. The sheer... enthusiasm of it all."

"Enthusiasm?" Danny couldn't keep the edge from his voice. "That what we're calling it now?"

Smith's smile was all teeth, sharp and white in the morning light. "What else would you call it, Sheriff? Such vigorous expression of... natural instincts." He stood in one fluid motion, brushing invisible dust from his knees. "Though I must agree with your young officer's theory. Bears can be remarkably... creative when properly motivated."

"You can't seriously-" Sarah started, but Smith cut her off with a look that made her words die in her throat. Danny felt his hackles rise at the way the agent's eyes lingered on his partner, like a gourmand examining a particularly choice cut of meat.

"Deputy Chen, isn't it?" Smith's voice was honey-smooth, cultured in a way that screamed old money and older privilege. "Your reputation precedes you. Top of your class at the academy, excellent marksman - or should I say markswoman? - and quite the promising career ahead." His smile widened fractionally. "Assuming you know when to... accept the obvious explanation."

Sarah opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. "Sir, with all due respect, there's nothing obvious about this. The damage patterns, the evidence of... consumption... it doesn't match any known predator profile."

"Doesn't it?" Smith's attention was fully on her now, intense enough to make Danny step slightly closer to his partner. "Nature is full of surprises, Deputy. Sometimes the simplest explanation truly is the correct one. Occam's Razor, and all that."

"Right," Danny interrupted, not liking the way Sarah seemed almost mesmerized by Smith's gaze. "And I suppose bears regularly coordinate attacks and dispose of evidence?"

Because that was another thing that had been bothering him - certain items were conspicuously missing from the scene. Keys, phones, wallets... anything that could help identify the victims had vanished. That spoke of intelligence, of planning. Not random animal violence.

Smith's laugh was like expensive whiskey, smooth and burning. "You'd be amazed at what animals are capable of, Sheriff. Particularly when they're... hungry." He adjusted his already perfect cuffs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to consult with my colleagues about containment procedures."

"Containment?" Sarah had shaken off whatever spell Smith had cast, her usual sharp tone returning. "What exactly are you containing?"

"The situation, of course." Another agent materialized at Smith's elbow - younger, darker, but with the same predatory grace. "Agent Rodriguez, ma'am. We'll need to implement a temporary quarantine of the area. Standard procedure for potential rabies exposure."

"Rabies," Danny said flatly. "You're locking down an entire town because of rabies."

"Can't be too careful," Rodriguez's smile didn't reach his eyes. "CDC guidelines, you understand. We'll need to restrict travel in and out of the county until we can... locate and neutralize the threat."

"And how long might that take?" Sarah's hand had drifted to her weapon, something Danny noticed Smith tracking with that same unsettling amusement.

"Oh, not long at all," Smith purred. "We're quite experienced at hunting down... troublesome elements. A few days at most. Just long enough to ensure public safety."

Danny watched as more agents emerged from their vehicles, carrying equipment that looked decidedly non-standard for either FBI or CDC operations. Some of the cases had military markings, and he could have sworn he saw what looked like silver-tipped rounds being loaded into magazines.

"We'll need your department's full cooperation, of course," Smith continued smoothly. "Your local knowledge will be invaluable in tracking down our... ursine friend. Though I must insist that all operations be conducted under federal supervision. For liability reasons, you understand."

"And if we don't understand?" Danny kept his tone neutral, professional, but there was steel underneath.

Smith's smile turned predatory. "Then I'm afraid we'll have to discuss the various federal funding initiatives that your department currently enjoys. Budget cuts can be so... devastating to small-town law enforcement."

Before Danny could respond - possibly with his fist - Sarah stepped in. "We'll cooperate fully, Agent Smith. Whatever you need."

"Excellent!" Smith clapped his hands together like a pleased schoolmaster. "Your assistance will be most appreciated, Deputy Chen. Most appreciated indeed." His tongue flicked out to wet his lips in a gesture that seemed somehow too quick, too inhuman.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have quite a bit of setup to coordinate. Rodriguez will brief your officers on containment protocols. I suggest you both get some rest - we'll begin the hunt in earnest tonight."

As Smith strode away, Danny couldn't shake the feeling that they'd just made a deal with something far more dangerous than whatever had torn apart those kids on the football field.

"I don't like him," Sarah muttered once Smith was out of earshot. She was rubbing her arms like she was cold, despite the morning sun. "Something's... off."

"Everything about this is off," Danny agreed. He watched as the FBI agents began setting up what looked like military-grade surveillance equipment around the perimeter of the school. "Since when does the FBI respond to animal attacks? And what's with all the hardware?"

"Maybe they're expecting the bear to file an appeal," Sarah's attempt at humor fell flat. "Did you see how he looked at me? Like... like..."

"Like you were dinner?" Danny finished grimly. "Yeah, I saw. Stay away from him if you can. Something tells me Agent Smith isn't playing by any rulebook I've ever seen."

A commotion near the parking lot drew their attention. Thompson was arguing with Rodriguez about proper bear-hunting techniques, his voice carrying across the crime scene.

"But what about honey? Bears love honey! We could set up a trap with-"

"Thompson!" Danny barked. "Go help Matthews with the parent notifications. Now."

As the rookie scurried away, Sarah shook her head. "You know, a bear is starting to sound pretty good right about now. At least that would make sense."

"Since when does anything in this job make sense?" Danny watched as more black SUVs rolled into the parking lot, their windows tinted dark enough to be illegal. "But whatever did this... whatever Smith and his people are really here for..."

"Yeah?"

"I've got a feeling we're about to find out just how deep this rabbit hole goes. And I don't think we're going to like what's at the bottom."

Sarah's response was cut off by the sound of helicopter rotors. Three black choppers appeared over the trees, unmarked except for what looked like mounted weapons on their sides.

"Those aren't FBI birds," Danny muttered. "What the hell are we dealing with here?"

"Above our pay grade," Sarah replied, but her hand stayed near her weapon. "Way, way above our pay grade."