A Little Infestation Problem

"You know what they say about bears and picnic baskets," Thompson quipped, adjusting his hunting vest for the hundredth time. The morning fog clung to the forest like a wet shroud, turning familiar landmarks into looming shadows.

"If you make one more Yogi Bear reference," Sarah growled, "I swear to God I'll shoot you myself and blame it on rabies."

Agent Smith's laugh cut through the pre-dawn chill like a razor. "Now, now, Deputy Chen. Let's save our ammunition for more... substantial targets." He moved through the underbrush with unnatural grace, his expensive suit somehow remaining pristine despite the mud and thorns. "Though I must admit, Officer Thompson's enthusiasm for ursine pop culture is rather... refreshing."

Danny watched Smith's movements with growing unease. Everything about the man seemed slightly wrong, like a photo that's been edited just enough to make you question reality. Even the way he handled his rifle - some kind of custom job that definitely wasn't FBI standard issue - spoke of experience that went well beyond federal training.

"Hey, I'm just saying," Thompson continued, oblivious to the tension, "maybe we should've brought some honey. Or salmon. Bears love salmon, right?"

Rodriguez, who'd been silently tracking something only he could see, straightened up with a predatory smile. "Oh yes, they're quite fond of fish. Almost as fond as they are of... fresh meat." His gaze lingered on Thompson in a way that made Danny's hand drift toward his sidearm.

"Speaking of fresh meat," one of the volunteers - Bob from the hardware store - called out, "anybody else think it's weird we ain't found no bear sign? No scat, no claw marks, nothing."

"Perhaps our ursine friend is simply... fastidious," Smith suggested, examining what appeared to be random bits of forest debris. "Some predators are remarkably careful about leaving evidence."

Sarah snorted. "Right. A neat freak bear that cleans up after itself and disposes of personal belongings. Makes perfect sense."

"The world is full of surprises, Deputy Chen." Smith's smile showed too many teeth. "Nature has a way of... adapting to circumstances. Evolving, you might say."

"What I might say," Danny cut in, "is that we're wasting our time out here. Whatever did this-"

"Bear," Rodriguez interrupted smoothly. "It was definitely a bear. The CDC confirmed it."

"Right, your mysterious CDC team that no one's actually seen." Danny didn't bother hiding his skepticism. "Just like those 'specialist' units you've got setting up around town. Since when does the FBI travel with their own private army?"

Smith's laugh was like ice cracking. "My dear Sheriff, surely you don't expect us to handle a potentially rabid apex predator with standard equipment? That would be... irresponsible."

Before Danny could respond, Thompson let out a yelp. "Holy shit! Look at the size of those tracks!"

The group converged on Thompson's discovery - a set of massive prints pressed deep into the mud. Danny frowned. Something about them seemed off, but he couldn't quite place what.

"Magnificent," Smith purred, crouching to examine the tracks. "Such power, such... purpose in the stride."

"Those look kinda fresh," Sarah commented, her hand on her weapon. "Friday's fresh."

"Indeed." Smith stood with fluid grace. "Rodriguez, take point. Thompson, stay close to Deputy Chen. Sheriff..." His smile turned predatory. "Do try to keep up."

They moved deeper into the woods, following the tracks. Danny noticed that Smith's men had spread out in a pattern that seemed less like a search party and more like a military formation. Their weapons - definitely not standard FBI issue - were held at the ready.

"So," Thompson whispered after several tense minutes, "what do bears usually have for breakfast? Besides, you know, teenage football players?"

"Thompson, I swear to-" Sarah's threat was cut off by the crackle of Smith's radio.

"Sir," a clipped voice reported, "we've got a situation at Mario's Pizzeria. Multiple casualties, property damage... it's not what we're looking for, but..."

Smith's expression shifted from annoyed to intrigued. "Details?"

"Sir, you're... you're going to want to see this yourself. Witnesses are reporting... rats."

"Rats?" Bob scoffed. "Since when do we care about rats?"

"How big?" Smith's question was sharp, commanding.

There was a pause on the radio. "Sir... big enough to drag a man under a dumpster."

The forest seemed to go silent, as if the wildlife itself was holding its breath. Smith exchanged a look with Rodriguez that spoke volumes.

"Well," Smith's laugh held no humor, "it seems our little containment operation just became more... complicated. So much for my promise of a quick resolution."

"Wait," Sarah stepped forward, "you're saying we've got giant rats now? On top of your supposedly rabid bear?"

"Evolution is such an interesting process, wouldn't you agree?" Smith checked his weapon with practiced efficiency. "Sometimes it takes centuries, sometimes... well, sometimes it happens rather dramatically."

"This is insane," Danny growled. "First the football team, now this? What the hell is really going on here?"

"What's going on, Sheriff," Smith's voice dropped to a silky purr, "is that your charming little town has developed something of a... pest problem. One that appears to be spreading beyond its initial source."

"Source?" Sarah's eyes narrowed. "You know what caused this."

"I know many things, Deputy Chen. Most of which would disturb your sleep far more than mere bears or rodents." Smith keyed his radio. "All units converge on Mario's Pizzeria. And do bring the heavy ordinance - it seems we'll need to adjust our containment protocols."

"Sir," Rodriguez asked quietly, "should we inform the Master about this... development?"

Smith's smile was all teeth. "Oh, I think we can handle a few oversized rats without troubling our superiors. Though I must admit, this does make things more... entertaining. Wouldn't you agree, Sheriff?"

Danny met Smith's gaze and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air. For just a moment, he could have sworn the man's eyes reflected light like a predator's.

"Let's move," Smith ordered, his cultured tone carrying an edge of anticipation that made Danny's skin crawl. "I believe it's time to show these good people how we deal with... aggressive wildlife."

As they headed back toward town, Danny heard Thompson mutter, "Maybe we should've brought bigger traps."

"Oh, we brought exactly what we need," Rodriguez replied with a smile that wouldn't have looked out of place on a shark. "Though I doubt even you could find enough cheese to bait them."

"Actually," Thompson brightened, "I was thinking maybe if we got some of those giant wheels of parmesan from Mario's-"

"Thompson!" Several voices snapped in unison.

"What? I'm just saying, if we're dealing with Italian rats..."

Smith's laugh echoed through the trees, causing several birds to take flight. "Never change, Officer Thompson. Your... unique perspective on tactical planning is quite refreshing." He checked his watch - a timepiece that probably cost more than the entire police department's annual budget. "Now, shall we go see what our rotund friends have been up to? I do so enjoy a good pizza with my pest control."

As they marched back toward town, Danny couldn't shake the feeling that whatever was really going on, Smith and his people were less interested in stopping it than they were in... studying it. Like scientists watching a particularly fascinating experiment unfold.

And somehow, that was more terrifying than any bear or rat could ever be.

"Hey," Thompson called out, "do you think the rats still have to pay for carry-out?"

The sound of multiple hands slapping foreheads echoed through the forest.

"I mean, they're basically doing dine-in, right? Even if it's under the dumpster..."

"Thompson," Sarah's voice could have frozen hell itself, "one more word about rat dining habits and I'm feeding you to whatever's out there myself."

"Excellent initiative, Deputy Chen," Smith approved. "Though I suspect our ravenous rodents might find Officer Thompson a bit... tough to digest."

"Was that a fat joke?" Thompson sounded genuinely hurt. "Because I'll have you know this is all tactical padding. For bear wrestling."

Rodriguez muttered something in Spanish that made Smith chuckle darkly.

"Regardless," Smith cut through the banter, "I believe we're about to discover just how... adaptable our local wildlife has become. Rodriguez, alert the containment teams. I suspect we'll need to expand our perimeter significantly."

"What about the CDC story?" Danny asked. "Kind of hard to blame rabid bears for rat attacks."

Smith's smile was pure predator. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Sheriff. You'd be amazed what people will believe when the alternative is... unthinkable."

As if to punctuate his words, a scream echoed from the direction of town - high, terrified, and cut off with disturbing abruptness.

"Ah," Smith sighed, almost contentedly. "It seems our cheese-loving friends are getting impatient. Shall we?"

They moved toward town at a rapid pace, Smith and his men falling into combat formations with practiced ease. Danny couldn't help noticing that they seemed far more excited than concerned about the situation.

"Just another day in paradise," Sarah muttered, checking her weapon. "Giant rats, mysterious feds, and Thompson's bear jokes. What's next, werewolves?"

Smith's laugh carried an edge that made Danny's blood run cold. "Now, now, Deputy Chen. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. One impossible thing at a time, hmm?"

The way he said "impossible" made it sound like anything but.