White Space Season 2

spooked. All Houser had to do was reach them, then Milo was confident the big man could charm Don into trusting him.
    Houser was a private investigator, and a cop before that, and said he was plenty used to dealing with people on the edge, and comfortable talking them down. Milo hoped that between Houser’s skills and the fact that Don, crazy or not, was a decent guy in a bad spot, everyone would be leaving the forest alive.
    Houser finally reached them and sent his hands back in the air, palms facing Don. “Just so you know, I’m packing. Gun in my jacket holster, if you wanna get it.”
    Don looked at Houser and shook his head, “No, that’s OK. Just keep your hands where I can see them.”
    “Yes, sir,” he said. “My name is Brock Houser. I’m a private investigator out of California. And you are?”
    “What? Milo didn’t tell you my name?”
    “He called you Mr. X, and unless you’re a bald professor of mutants, I don’t think that X stands for Xavier.”
    Good, a geeky X-Men reference. That should put Don at ease, maybe even earn a laugh. Comic geeks rarely work for the bad guys, do they?
    Milo considered laughing, to chill everyone’s nerves, but was afraid to make any sound which might spook Don’s trigger finger.
    Don didn’t laugh, though he did seem slightly less scared shitless.
    “Name’s Don Bellows,” he said, surprising Milo with honesty. Maybe he was coming around, or figured he had nothing to lose. If Houser betrayed them, they were all dead, anyway.
    “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Bellows,” Houser said. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me.”
    “What is it you wanna know?” Don asked.
    “Well, I was hoping we could pool our resources. I tell you what I know, you tell me what you know, specifically what you know about the flash drive, plus whatever you can tell me about Roger Heller.”
    “You first,” Don said. “You talk first.”
    Houser told his story, how Liz Heller asked him to decrypt what was on the flash drive, but that he got into a car accident before he could. After that, his mind was fuzzy and the flash drive gone.
    “You think it was an accident?” Don asked, not seeming to mock Houser for thinking so, but genuinely curious if Houser thought it might have been.
    “I don’t know. As a cop, I always believed the most obvious hunch was the right one. But shit here on the island defies obvious hunches. So, I’m not sure what to think. What do you think?”
    “I think there’s something going on with Conway Industries. I think they’re somehow involved in Hamilton’s missing people, with Roger Heller shooting his classroom before killing himself, and even with what happened to Milo and his stepmom. They’re doing something to the people.”
    “And what do you think that something is?” Houser asked, still standing with his hands airborne.
    “I don’t know, exactly. But I’ve been gathering evidence. One night Roger Heller reached out to me and said he had something he wanted me to see. It was on a flash drive, and he seemed eager to get it to me. Next thing I know, he shoots up the school, then kills himself. I think the flash drive is the missing piece. Tell me, Mr. Houser, when you got into the accident, where was it at?”
    Before Houser could answer a blue arc of light lit the sky above, striking Don, who fell to the ground, flat on his face. The gun flew from his hand.
    Milo braced for an impact, but there was no explosion. He looked around, trying to see what happened.
    Was it lightning?
    Milo looked back at Houser, now holding his gun and aiming it at Milo, “Don’t move.”
    “What did you do?” Milo shouted, looking down at an unmoving Don.
    Suddenly, Milo saw them — dozens of flying metal bird-like things , hovering in the air over Don’s body. A blue arc of light crackled beneath one and sent light flying at Milo.
    He fell to the forest floor in a heap.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 6 — Cassidy Hughes

    Cassidy stopped by her mom’s house after picking up a bottle of wine and some food from the store. Her mom hadn’t asked for anything, but Cassidy knew if she didn’t stop by with something, Vivian would call her in the middle of night, knowing she was out of town, just to guilt trip her. Cassidy had wised up to her mother’s ways years ago, and with her nerves already on edge from not knowing what the hell would happen with Jon during dinner, she didn’t need Vivian to worry about.
    She knocked on the door. “It’s me, Ma, I