The Night Reporter ✔

Panic Pause

Author's Note

In celebration of Amazon Prime Video's newest series Panic, I am thrilled to be teaming up with Amazon Prime Video and Wattpad to write this exclusive chapter that puts my characters from this story into the world of Panic!

I hope this chapter intrigues and inspires you to learn more about Panic. Visit the #PanicWritingContest on Wattpad for the chance to put your creative writing chops to the test and learn more about the show!

To find out more about the contest, prizes, and how to enter, check out the #PanicWritingContest here: wattpad.com/AmazonPrimeVideo

Don't forget to watch the series premiere on May 28th, only on Amazon Prime Video, here: http://primevideo.com/

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~2 months earlier~

Part of being demoted meant being assigned stories no one else wanted.

Like a story about teenagers, an urban legend, and oh yeah, teenagers.

Martinez had emailed Zeke the assignment. Smart on her part, because the electronic communication meant he couldn't tell her off to her face. Not that he would've. But he would've at least imagined doing so while nodding and smiling.

He didn't complain openly about the assignment because it meant leaving Tampa for awhile. Which is what he needed right about now.

Presently, he questioned a pimpled boy for more details. They were outside a Cook Out, a fast-food joint advertised as "Cheap and Delicious." After making the mistake of eating dinner there the night before, Zeke had learned it was more like "Cheap and Diarrhea."

It was Zeke's first time in Texas, and he hoped his last. The sprawling dry, desert landscape was hotter than his beloved Florida swampland.

At least in Florida, there was a nice ocean breeze. Here, it was just hot. And rather empty.

The kid represented so much about the small town of Carp, Texas: jeans, plaid shirt, beat up trucker hat, lack of ambition hanging about. No wonder the youth here had to pass around ridiculousness like a Hunger-Games-like contest worth thousands of dollars. It was their only form of entertainment. Plus, if they were stuck in this town, having a magical out was the sort of hope they needed to survive.

"Where's this kick-off at again?"

"I'll tell you." The boy sipped on his milkshake, then resumed speaking. "After you give me somethin'."

"Oh, yeah, no problem." Some colleagues frowned upon greasing details with cash, but Zeke had no such scruples. He reached in his wallet, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill.

"Not money!"

Zeke raised a brow, slipping the note back in his wallet. "Okay, then what?"

"A promise to leave my name outta this."

Zeke rattled off the source confidentiality monologue he had memorized his first year on the beat. It never failed to impress, and after he was done, the youth seemed sufficiently placated.

"If I can ask, why do you want your name left out?"

Zeke was curious because, for most stories full of untruths, interviewees spelled their names out. Caren with a C. Tamarra with two R's. This pimply-faced Texan preferred anonymity. It meant, potentially, that there was something to this urban legend.

The teen traced imaginary circles in the sidewalk with his boot. "When people start dying, it ain't nothin' to sniff at. Still, my dad raised me to face things, and tell the truth, even if it means talkin' to the Lame Stream media."