Our only warning was the earth crying out in a great grinding noise that swallowed all other sounds, a yawn of some half-asleep cyclopean giant angry at being awoken. The ground shifted and we clawed at each other to stay upright.

Amidst a roiling cloud …

To Detective Hawk, the more she examined the scene, the more she felt the whole thing was an accident, an illusion. The ink was spilled, not spilling from her body. She lay slumped, not in a defensive pose. There were no glasses of drink, no tubes for gas…