I expect by now you’ve heard the news out of Arizona about Moulder and its estimated seventeen-hundred dead. The entire town wiped off the map. News crews kept miles at bay due to the extreme toxicity from the chemical fire. The empty promises spouted by government investigators. The billowing plume of black smoke filmed from miles away, endlessly looped on the news. The politicians posturing about how they’ll bring those responsible to justice. You’ve seen and heard it all.
For me, the question arises: Do I believe there’s a cover-up in play? Of course, I do. Layer upon layer of cover-ups. Just maybe not the ones you think. Something bad happened in Moulder, but I don’t necessarily believe the government was behind it this time. Something happened, all right, something that had to be contained at any cost—for the sake of us all. I pray this is the end of it, though I have my doubts. I can’t help wondering about Mrs. Wibble. Where was she taken when arrested? Was she incinerated with the rest of the townsfolk? Or is she alive and in custody somewhere? These are the type of questions my nightmares are made of. I hate loose strings.
On a final note, I regret to report I’ve not heard from Sparkman since yesterday evening. I fear him to be a casualty of the eradication.
I’m going dark for a few days. Call it paranoia if you like. If anything happens in Dos Palos, it will just have to wait.