The Narrows

her as a "visiting agent," whatever that meant.
    "Is she cleared with Agent Alpert?" he asked, his voice as dry and flat as the desert basin behind him.
    "Yes, she's cleared."
    "Okay, then. I just need her credentials."
    Rachel handed over her ID wallet. The agent wrote down her serial number and handed it back.
    "FromQuantico?"
    "No, South Dakota."
    He gave her a look, the kind that said he knew she was a fuckup.
    "Have fun," he said as he turned to go back to his tent.
    Dei moved the car forward, raising her window, leaving the agent in a cloud of dust.
    "He's from the Vegas FO," she said. "They're not too happy about things, playing second string."
    "So what's new?"
    "Exactly."
    "Is Alpert the SAC?'
    "That's him."
    "What's he like?"
    "Well, remember your theory about agents being either morphs or empaths?"
    "Yes."
    "He'samorph."
    Rachel nodded.
    They came to a little cardboard sign taped to a branch of a Joshua tree. It said vehicles and had an arrow pointing to the right. Dei turned and they parked last in a row of four equally dirty Crown Vies.
    "What about you?" Rachel asked. "Which did you turn out to be?"
    Dei didn't answer.
    "You ready for this?" she asked Rachel instead.
    "'Absolutely. I've been waiting four years for another shot at him. This is where it starts."
    She cracked the door and stepped out into the bright desert sun. She felt at home.

CHAPTER 10
    Backus followed them down the exit ramp. He was a safe distance behind. He crossed over the freeway and put on his blinker to get back on in the opposite direction. If they were watching him in the mirror he would simply look like someone turning around to head back to Vegas.
    Before turning back onto the freeway he watched the FBI car go off the paved road and head across the desert to the site. His site. A white cloud of dust kicked up behind the car. He could see the white tents in the distance. He felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. The crime scene was a city he had built. A city of bones. The agents were like ants between pieces of glass. They lived and worked in the world of his creation, unknowingly doing his bidding.
    He wished he could get closer to that glass, to take it all in and see the horror he etched on their faces, but he knew the risk was too great.
    And he had other things to do. He pushed his foot down hard on the accelerator and headed back toward the city of sin. He had to make sure everything was ready and things were set.
    As he drove he felt a slight sense of melancholy slide in beneath his ribs. He guessed that this came with the letdown of leaving Rachel behind in the desert. He took a deep breath and tried to exorcize the feeling. He knew it would not be long before he was close to her again.
    After a moment he smiled at the memory of seeing his name on the sign held by the woman who had met Rachel at the airport. An inside joke between agents. Backus recognized the greeter. Agent Cherie Dei. Rachel had mentored her just as he had mentored Rachel. That meant some of his special insights had been passed on through Rachel to this new generation. He liked that. He wondered what Cherie Dei's reaction would have been if he had stepped up to her and her stupid sign at the bottom of the escalator and said, "Thanks for meeting me."
    He looked out through the car's windows at the flat, barren plain of the desert floor. He believed it was truly beautiful, made even more so by the things he had planted in the sand and rock out there.
    He thought about that and soon the pressure in his chest eased and he felt wonderful again. He checked the rearview for trailers and saw nothing that was suspicious. He checked himself then and admired the surgeon's work once more. He smiled at himself.

CHAPTER 11
    As they got close to the tents Rachel Walling began to smell the scene. The unmistakable odor of decaying flesh was carried on the wind as it worked through the encampment, billowed the tents and moved out again. She switched her breathing to her mouth, haunted by knowledge she wished she didn't have, that the sensation of smell occurred when tiny particles rstruck sensory receptors in the nasal passages. It meant if you smelled decaying flesh that was because you were breathing decaying flesh.
    There were three small square tents in the approach to the site. These were not the kind for camping. They were field command tents with straight sides to eight feet. Behind these three was a larger rectangular tent. Rachel noticed that all