Warning Signs

She takes a deep breath and opens the car door. Walking to the edge of the hill, she watches as crime scene investigators secure the site below. Carefully making her way down the hill, she hears, “Hamlin, over here.” Nodding in acknowledgment, she walks toward the foundation of the footbridge.

Just ahead, she can see their hair moving wild with the current. Stepping across the stones to the other side, she stabilizes herself with one hand resting on the wall of the footbridge. There, under the water, their eyes still open. She gasps as two young faces stare back at her. Their bodies lay still at the bottom of the creek, despite the heavier than usual current. Two boulders positioned on top of them, holding them in place.

She recognized the victims immediately, the Culver sisters, twins, only twenty years old. Of course, she knew them; Sheriff Hamlin knew everyone in town. That’s the beauty and the curse of small-town life.

Starting to feel sick, Sheriff Hamlin began to move away until something glistening under the water caught her eye. Specks of light shimmered through the twins’ clasped fingers. They were holding hands and something else. “I’ve got something,” shouts Hamlin, rolling up her sleeves and pulling gloves from her pocket. Reaching into the water, she frees their hands, undoing their bond, to reveal a heart-shaped locket.

Back at the station, a stress-induced headache begins to form over her eyes. Four murders in three weeks. All young adults, all twenty years old. In her fifteen-year career with the department, she has seen plenty, but never four murders in a row.

Seated at her desk with her hands covering her face, she hears, “Hamlin, any developments?” The Commander stands towering over her; she leans back in her chair and pulls a plastic evidence bag out of her pocket. “Another locket,” she snorts. “Good, good making progress,” he says as he walks off.

“Seriously?” she thinks to herself, “Making progress, is he clueless?” The energy around Leadership Hall and the Sheriff’s department has been off. Lately, she can’t tell if it’s in her head or what, but she gets the feeling no one really cares about these murders. The Commander, his staff, and the medical examiner seem just to be going through the motions.

Feeling lost, she stares blankly at her desk. Files containing the victims’ identities, reports from the crime scenes, and three different but similar, heart-shaped lockets, probably antique, lay in front of her—each locket found in the victim’s hand. Inside, a small, folded piece of paper opens to reveal a single letter.

The first victim’s locket revealed the letter A. He was found under a fallen tree, his name, Aaron Smith. The Commander was quick to dismiss the case as a freak accident, and others agreed. Hamlin had her doubts. She disagreed, especially now with multiple lockets as evidence.

A week later, Charlie Austen was found dead lying in the middle of a cornfield. He, too, was only twenty. Someone had burned his hands beyond recognition. Performing the autopsy, the medical examiner found the second locket. The locket and the contents, a piece of paper with the letter F, showed no burn marks.

Today, the Culver sister’s locket revealed the letter W. Strangely, the water didn’t affect the piece of paper, even though the locket was completely submerged. The lockets are added to the victim’s hands after they’ve already died, she thought, but why, why?!

A week goes by with no suspects or leads, and the murders consume her every thought. Nothing is adding up, and it’s taking a toll on her. Solving problems is, was her gift. Her natural ability to pull details together, details others would miss, she believed, is what makes her a strong leader. What was she missing here? Frustrated, she decides to call it quits for the night.

The sun is setting as she pulls into her driveway, the house sitting dark. Days-old mail is sprawled across the entryway floor. Flicking on the hall light, she stands over the mess of bills and junk. Using her foot to spread out the pile, she sees a heart-shaped locket, similar to the ones found with the murder victims.

Her heart sinks as she falls to her knees and picks up the locket, immediately opening it. Just like the others, a folded piece of paper falls out, this time, with an E. She sits there for what feels like an eternity, holding the locket in her hands, her mind screaming at her to get up, call for backup. After all, the murderer could be standing right behind her.

Refocusing her attention on her surroundings, she clears the house. Confident she’s alone, she returns to the front door. An envelope with handwriting catches her gaze. It says, Attention: Sheriff Harper Hamlin. Confused by what is going on, her hands begin to tremble as she opens the letter and starts to read.

Sheriff Hamlin,

Puzzles, cracking the code, that’s your unique ability, right? That’s why you rose so quickly through the ranks, by solving all the unsolvable cases. It surprises us you haven’t caught on to what is happening yet. Perhaps you’re not as clever as you thought. Or maybe you’ve decided to block it all out.

Trust us, we wish we could block it all out too, but unfortunately for us, we haven’t fared as well as you through the transition. We know you don’t and can’t remember what the transition is, but you need to.

It started several years back when the horrible storms began flooding the coastlines, killing millions of people. Those who survived were forced inland, which overwhelmed the land, causing chaos around the country. We were spared at first, our small town, forgotten in the madness.

As a community, we came together. We kept ourselves going, fended off trouble, and learned how to survive without – without the rest of the country. We really were fine until news of a new order reached the ears of our leader, Sheriff Hamlin.

This new order, called The Revivals, “are a way back to a normal life.” You told us they were reconnecting infrastructure and focused on reuniting the country. Despite the praises you shared, we, your faithful community, had heard rumors, rumors of their military behavior.

Granted, as a community, we spoke openly of our concerns, but you assured us our proactive invite and acceptance of The Revivals would make for a better, safer transition. We listened, even though we knew better.

At first, life seemed to stay the same, but the warning signs were all there. Slowly, their rules became stricter, and attitudes towards us aggressive. They took control over our resources, and we were reduced to nearly nothing. The forced labor, the lack of food, the mental and physical abuse, how could you stand there and watch it all?

For the longest time, we thought you sold us all out deliberately. What were we supposed to believe? You’re the only one who was allowed to keep your home, your job, and seemingly your freedom.

It wasn’t until Aaron’s murder we realized something was off. Of course, we all knew Aaron’s death wasn’t an accident, and you knew too. Didn’t you? We could see it in your eyes as you stood next to the Commander during his condolence speech. Your eyes blinked and moved differently that day. We knew then; we had a chance to reach you. But how?

Communicating without The Revivals noticing would be tricky. We didn’t know there would be more murders, but we knew you were still reviewing Aaron’s case, so we decided to create something, a puzzle piece to grab your interest, hence the locket.

The next step was to figure out what The Revivals were doing to you, to keep you from seeing the truth. That brings us to Charlie, a pharmacy worker willing to watch for your name. We suspected they were drugging you, and we were correct.

So, what happened to Charlie, you ask? He was caught, of course, with one of the prescription bottles in his pocket. The punishment, they burned his hands and arms until he passed out and left him to die in that cornfield. Anyone who attempted to help him would be executed.

There was no way we could get Charlie the medical treatment he would need to survive. The best we could do was get him some pain relief, water, and another locket for when you would be allowed to “investigate” the crime scene.

The Culver Sisters volunteered for the mission, believing they had an advantage, being twins and all. Against the odds, they made it to Charlie placing a locket in his hand before they, too, were apprehended by The Revivals. And well, you can recall the sisters’ fate.

Are the pieces adding up yet? We’ll help you solve this one.

A is for Air, now polluted and toxic.

F is for Fire; they burn off our crops.

W is for Water; they limit our daily intake and ration our supply.

And lastly, E. E is for Earth; they have taken our homes away from us.

Can you see now what they’ve done to us? Torn our community apart left us with nothing, and now they're starving us out. We know this isn’t what you wanted, not for you and not for us. And we don’t blame you anymore because we know they’re using you. They’re using your reputation, your charm, your ability to build trust to help them take over more communities like ours.

That’s what this is all about, to wake you up! It’s too late for us here, but you can stop this from happening again; you can save others from this terror. You NEED to REMEMBER. It’s time for you to WAKE UP.

Hamlin's body violently thrusts forward, sweat dripping down her back. She opens her eyes to a dark room. It was a dream, a horrible dream. She sits back against the headboard, breathing steadily to subside her panic.

She turns on the lamp sitting on the nightstand and thinks for a minute. Her bedroom looks different. Her walls look grey and dirty. Wait, wait. This doesn’t seem right. She jumps up; this is not her bedroom. She looks down and pulls at her clothes. Grey. Everything is grey. The walls, the clothes, the bars on her window. The bars on her window? She reaches for the door. It’s locked. She starts banging on it. “Help, Help! Let me out of here.” She hears nothing. No response.

Slowly, she backs away from the door. Hitting the corner wall, she slides down until she is seated with her knees in her hands. Then she sees it, the locket, on her nightstand.

In disbelief, she stands up and walks over to the locket. She picks it up into her hands; she can't believe it. She doesn't want to believe it. The memories come flooding back. The first time she met with the Commander. How he gave her his word, promised if her community cooperated and accepted The Revivals, life would remain the same for them. She believed him. She had too. What other option was there?

Suddenly, the bedroom door starts to open, “Time for your pills, Hamlin.” Without hesitation, she charges at the figure in an attempt to escape. Before she knew what hit her, she was on the ground with the wind knocked out of her. “Is that how we’re going to play today, Hamlin?” she recognized the voice. It was him, the Commander.

Picking her up under the arms, he positioned her up on the bed. He bent down in front of her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look toward him. “Remembering again, Hamlin?” he smirked as he shook his head, “We can’t have that. Our trust-worthy puppet has work to do.”