NICK LENZER.

Bullets of sweat dripping down his face, Detective Robert Orange slammed the phone back onto its cradle. He wanted answers immediately. 

‘That’s preposterous! A stolen house??? If this is some sort of ruse you can kiss your job goodbye Lancaster!’ He yelled, his voice echoing off the dusty filing cabinets cluttering his office as his rage boiled over. He stormed out, shoving desks and chairs to the side, desperate to make sense of the chaos unravelling in San Pedro Valley.

The reports began pouring in, tip after tip—houses vanishing, diners disappearing, and hotels disintegrating. Fear and confusion gripped the town as residents tried to make sense of the situation. Some reported herds of masked men fleeing the scene through the morning fog, their footsteps barely disturbing the eerie silence. Some reported large computer-like devices set up in dark alleys, buzzing like old industrial generators. And then there were the neighbours, the tradies, the bus drivers and other indiscriminate early risers. All describing the same phenomenon, countless homes and establishments dissipating into thin air, seemingly plucked from reality. None of it made sense. None.

Racing to his superior’s aid, Sargent Lancaster sped down the motorway, recklessly weaving in and out of traffic. For a second, he gazed at the mountainous terrain on the horizon, having a brief moment of clarity that was accompanied by a fleeting sense of security. Lancaster felt that at least for now, he and those closest to him would remain safe from this devastation. 

Snapping back to reality, a call came through on the radio from Detective Orange:

‘Lancaster, what's your ETA?? I’ve got a stolen mansion on Southwest Boulevard, the 711 on 59th Street is missing, and all thats left of the Brownsbury Hotel is a single fucking VB can squashed in the parking lot! Get here NOW!!’ 

His grip tightening on the wheel, Lancaster sensed a strange tone in Detective Orange’s voice. He had never heard him in this state before and it concerned him even more than the current circumstances.

‘5 minutes to Southwest Boulevard Detective, thankfully there isn’t too much traffic. I will be there as quickly as possible. Do you need me to get—’

‘5 MINUTES??!? Hurry the fuck up Lancaster we’ve got families in hysterics here lining up and demanding answers. Stop wasting time and just drive!!!’ Detective Orange shouted, sending fierce rattling through the radio.

Speeding off the exit ramp, Lancaster noticed that the town’s typical bustling aura had grown quiet and unnerving. Toppled over trash cans littered the laneways, and tumbleweeds caressed the pothole ridden tarmac. He raced deeper into the suburban landscape, suddenly slowing down after spotting a mound of roadkill piled up on the curb. Lancaster watched as innumerable crows swooped low to the ground—eagerly seeking a harrowing feast.
Jolting his attention back to the road was a beeping sound. Loud, intrusive, and quite frankly annoying. Lancaster chuckled. Holy fuck, he thought. Relishing in the sheer absurdity of his current circumstances, a short-lived smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, though it wouldn’t stay for long. As if the houses and hotels disappearing all over town weren’t enough, now there was something wrong with the car??? The noise was coming from his fuel tank—it appeared to be reading empty. Amidst all this chaos, Lancaster had apparently forgotten about his petrol tank, what a surprise. Ironically, the incessant beep would serve as the defining factor in Sargent Lancaster’s race to the crime scene.

Finally screeching around the corner onto Southwest Boulevard, Lancaster came to an abrupt stop, immediately being greeted by a chaotic blur of flashing lights and sirens. Throwing the car into park, he bolted out towards the seemingly endless wall of yellow tape. Onlookers stood by huddled around in confusion, murmuring to themselves in an attempt to rationalise the ludicrous situation with no success. 

Boots pounding against the cobblestone pavement, Lancaster rushed towards the officers onsite, approaching them with a bewildered yet determined look in his eyes. Still unaware of his arrival, Detective Orange fiercely marched through the crime scene with grief in his eyes, and a face etched with frustration, already barking orders at the team.

‘Lancaster!’ Orange shouted with relief, waving him over, ‘get a load of this my boy, you are not going to believe this.’

Walking through the wall of police tape, Lancaster noticed a dozen suited agents lining the property, filling him with a sense of mounting trepidation. His mind ran wild, a million miles a minute. It was then that he began to question the depth of what was going on in San Pedro Valley—and what the CIA could possibly have to do with this.

‘We’ve meticulously searched the surrounding area and found nothing,’ Detective Orange grumbled, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. ‘There was once a fuckin’ mansion here Lancaster, now it’s gone—poof. Only thing we’ve observed is some strange markings possibly indicating—’

‘Now you hold on a minute mate. What the hell is going on here Orange?’ Sargent Lancaster cut him off, barely registering what Detective Orange just said. ‘What are all these CIA agents doing here??’

‘Lancaster, what have I told you about interrupting me?’ Orange calmly replied, ‘Alright listen—this shit is bigger than us now Lancaster. Houses being stolen? You really think the local department has even the slightest fucking clue what’s going on here? This is much bigger than we thought. Get over here and take a look—you’ll see what I mean.’

Lancaster stepped through the marsh, following closely behind. Approaching the heart of what used to be the mansion's foundation, his uneasiness grew strikingly apparent as Detective Orange scrambled towards something in the grass… 

‘Our biggest lead yet.’ Detective Orange proclaimed, reaching down to pick up a long, weathered stone. ‘We’ve sent photos to the headquarters, and also a few copies to those encryption analysts back in DC. Something real strange is going on here Lancaster.’

Looking down at the stone, Lancaster was struck by eerie similarities to his time working on the Zodiac Killer case. Strange symbols, numbers, and letters were engraved into the surface—all arranged in a deliberate fashion. It was clear these markings were trying to convey some sort of message, but deciphering them was another story.

Tracing the symbols with his gloved finger, disturbing memories of the Zodiac Killer flashed before him, sending shivers down his spine. These etchings were strangely familiar and evoked a feeling of profound unrest within Lancaster, as he struggled to come to grips with the true magnitude of the situation. 

‘What do you think they mean?’ Asked Lancaster.

‘Hell if I know,’ Orange replied, exhaling a large cloud of smoke. ‘All I know is it’s something far bigger than you and I. And the fact they left this behind, well—it’s most certainly not by accident.’

Hours ticked by as the team worked tirelessly to decipher the code, but progress was slow. No stone was left unturned… Back at the lab, analysts mixed radioactive compounds with precise amounts of vitamin A, C, and D, applying it to the surface of the stone with hopes of revealing further clues. Despite their best efforts, nothing emerged. It wasn’t long before Detective Orange’s rage emerged however, as he stormed into the lab with a lit cigarette, barely missing the radioactive mixture as he tossed the butt across the room. He demanded the scientists hurry up. Unfortunately, hurrying up would prove futile in their quest, the team were exhausted and his penetrating rage only made it harder for them to concentrate.

Eventually Orange and Lancaster made their way back to the station feeling defeated. They started brainstorming. An invisible giant? A teleportation device? Perhaps a large-scale explosion entirely localised within the bounds of a selected property? None of these seemed right, leaving the two detectives feeling like a couple of kindergarten students trying to understand calculus.

As the evening wore on, the weight of failure hung heavy in the room. Orange and Lancaster scratched their heads unsure of what was to come. They needed answers and they needed them fast. Although motivation was running thin, they knew that they were the city’s only hope of putting an end to this madness. So, restless and infuriated, the two began once again scouring over case documents, as well as the latest reports and theories. None of which seemed to fit. The office quietened, and their efforts danced to the sound of shuffling papers and the soft hum of fluorescent glow lamps.

‘Shit,’ muttered Detective Orange, ‘we’re running out of options.’

‘There’s got to be something we’re missing here. We’re not seeing the whole picture detective.’ Replied Lancaster, sitting across the desk with a furrowed brow.

At that moment, their tunnel vision suddenly collapsed when the office phone rang out. Lancaster picked it up. The call was brief, cryptic, eerie and strange. 

‘You’re getting close, be careful out there, I’m not sure what you two think you’re up against.’ An old and croaky voice spoke on the other line, as the call came to a crunching end.

Without saying a word Detective Orange got to work tracking the call. It was as if his body was fully in tune with the situation, knowing exactly what to do, and what came next. Firing up the software—numbers, letters and symbols began arranging themselves in a mystical format, before refining down to a single set of coordinates. Strangely, Detective Orange already knew the coordinates immediately upon seeing them. This is because it was the exact location of the stolen mansion.

Agitated and unsettled, Detective Orange abruptly stood up, ‘I’m going back right now, this ends here.’ He said, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.

‘Orange, wait, hold on, you're not thinking clearly! You can’t go alone, it's too dangerous.’ Lancaster tried to reason, ‘We’ll send off the recording and dispatch a team to the coordinates as soon as we can—’

‘Lancaster. I must do this, I’m done sitting around playing games with these cowards. Stay here, and keep chasing leads, I’ll be back soon.’ Said Orange as he flung a cigarette into his mouth and left the room.

Frozen in disbelief, Lancaster sat in silence. He wanted to run after him and drag him back, but, knowing about Detective Orange’s stubbornness, he realised that it would only make things worse. All he could do was wait.

The night drew on with no word from Orange and Lancaster grew increasingly worried. With sweat soaking through his blazer and a raging headache behind his eyes, Lancaster rushed to the office toilet to throw up. He couldn’t take the stress anymore. After countless attempts to contact Orange, he decided enough was enough and raced to the coordinates, speeding past a seemingly endless amount of empty lots along the way, that now held nothing more than memory of what was.

Upon arrival, Lancaster was met with a baffling sight that made him question whether this was the same property from the morning. Distress gnawed at his conscience as he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, his mind trying to make sense of what was in front of him. There it was—the mansion that vanished, now returned and perfectly placed in its original position, as if it had never left. 

Completely frazzled and in sheer bewildering astonishment, Lancaster called for backup as troops descended on the scene. 

‘ORANGE??!?!’ he shouted into the night, hoping for even the faintest call back from his superior. But there was nothing.

Rummaging through every last draw looking for clues, they searched the house—and there it was. A message on the roof upstairs, using the same encryption that was found earlier. The use of a few English letters in this code actually made it quite easy for the team to decrypt, though no one could’ve prepared for what it said. It was Lancaster’s worst nightmare:

‘They’ve got me, I’m sorry Lancaster.’

Lancaster stood, shocked to his core. The words cutting deeper than anything he had ever faced before. This wasn’t just another case—it was personal now. He had to save Detective Orange.