Apocalypse

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‘How many bodies are there?’

Captain Kyle Sears hung one arm out of the Ford Crown Victoria Police Interceptor as it accelerated away from the airport district station. The warm evening breeze rippled the sleeves of his distinctive taupe uniform, the nearby ocean sparkling as the sun set behind the glassy towers of the city skyline.

The warbled tones of a despatch officer replied to his question across the radio waves.

‘Two victims, both confirmed deceased from gunshot wounds. We got a tip-off from an unknown male caller. A forensics team is on their way and we’ve got a witness on the scene.’

Sears grimaced behind his sunglasses. The motion twisted his neat gray mustache as he glanced at his fellow officer, Lieutenant José Rodriquez, who shrugged as he drove. ‘A witness doesn’t necessarily lead to a conviction.’

Sears flicked a switch on the dashboard that sent sirens wailing as they raced along the boulevard, the interceptor’s flashing lights reflecting off the windows of other vehicles that swerved to get out of the way. Southbound on the Expressway, Sears could see the metallic sprawl of Miami International Airport nearby, the navigation lights of airliners blinking as they climbed into a spectacular sunset striped with tattered ribbons of black cloud.

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