Each breath you take in frigid temperatures causes a thin cloud of steam to form from your mouth. The natural heat of your body colliding with nature's personal freezer causing a wonderful display to be formed from their unison. When he was a child he would marvel at the simple sciences of life. Now he wished he could return to those simple times.
The soft chime of the front doorbell tingling brought him back to reality. That choking sensation caused by the smoke clogging up his lungs as he stared up into the sky. It felt like his days had turned to night and nights his day. The midnight oil burning ever so constantly as he fought against the urge to sleep. He still had work to do.
"Otto!" His scraggly chin turned to her, that green goofball he had been forced to take on as his subordinate. She had dark black bags under her eyes, but her irises were on high alert. "Wanna hear the wrap-up?"
A simple nod was all the response she needed. As she rushed back inside, he took his time, stomping out his cigarette and meandering back into the facility. Within those safe walls, he relaxed himself a little. A few officers were talking at the front desk. Conversations of unfinished reports and recent events taking over the table. The mention of Otto's current quarry took a jab at his soul, but he had no time to stress.
He made his way through the main lobby to the employee area. A few officers could be seen sitting at tiny cubicles, filling out reports and signing odd documents as they prepared to turn in. His own cubicle could be seen in the far-right corner, directly ahead of the ceiling-high window. A mess of papers scattered across his desk and some binders sitting in his seat. Just ahead was the neat little square that Shotzi reported to. He hoped he could be on the force long enough to see her space devolve into insanity much like everyone else.
As he made his way deeper into the building, he naturally paused to observe the woman sitting silently on a bench. Her head lowered and her body sulking as she fiddled with a strange bracelet in her hand. From the glowing red hair she had atop her head, he assumed she was related to Colt.
Part of him wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing he could say that would help. He chose to silently disappear behind the door. A new sense of life graced this room. Though the overwhelming dread tried to choke out any remaining scraps of hope these four walls contained.
A few voices could be heard emanating through the walls. He followed the sounds until he came to Captain Wesley's office. A small group of officers were loitering inside, leaning against the walls and taking seats where they could as the Captain spoke up. He noticed Otto make his entrance, straightening his blue button-up and rubbing his ruff cut of hair. "Bismartin. Good, we were just wrapping up."
He waved him forward to observe the desk. Scattered across the wooden top were several pictures and case files from within the dunes. The pictures that stood out to him were an overturned squad car in the middle of the desert and a strange figure seen moving through the streets at night. He took the picture of the vehicle but something about that creature seemed oddly familiar.
"Focus up men," Wesley turned to Shotzi, "and ladies. We don't have much time. If this gets out to the public it may cause panic."
"The public?!" one of the officers spoke up. "Who gives a damn about the public, what about the criminals?"
"Yeah when word gets out that the sheriff is missing, they're gonna go into a frenzy." Otto hissed at the mention of the sheriff. To think, that was his squad car they found turned over in the dunes. And the additional mangled hood didn't sit well in his stomach.
More officers voiced their frustrations. Any semblance of order the room had was absorbed by the chaos. Otto just looked through the images, trying to see if he noticed anything. There was an image of a jeep that was reported as stolen on the night of the disturbance. They found a hole in the gas tank alongside a blood-stained interior. It was assumed that the sheriff must have been pursuing the drivers, but the whereabouts of either party were still a mystery.
A few eyewitness reports kept speaking of, 'A woman with purple hair'. His hands naturally floated to an image sitting in the center of the table. Bright purple dreadlocks seeming to push themselves into the camera's field of view, completely covering the face of the person connected to it. At least, most of their face was covered, save for a small band-aid resting on their left cheek.
"Is that one of them?" Shotzi whispered over his shoulder. "A Gem Bandit?"
His older gaze locked onto her bright eyeliner, "Not a gem bandit. The Gem Bandit. Shelly, The Gem Bandit to be exact."
Shotzi soaked in the image, "I never would have thought she was so young."
"Nobody would expect it. A teenager in charge of the most notorious crime organization in The Greater Sand Dunes. She was living under our noses for years. And still is."
Shotzi requested the image for a closer inspection. She couldn't take her eyes off of those violent violet locks. "You would think with hair like that she'd be easy to find."
Another officer stepped up and snatched the image out of her hand. "And what about her? She's the prime suspect, shouldn't we find and interrogate this thief?"
"Thief?" Wesley's voice was aggressive, "A thief? A thief pickpockets. A thief breaks into your home and takes your wife's jewelry. A thief can be located with surveillance systems and a search warrant is all we need to book 'em." He took a seat as his tone mellowed out, "This woman doesn't pickpocket, she cracks safes. This woman doesn't steal from your home, she steals from your stores. Whenever she attacks Niagra she avoids major banks and focuses on well-established businesses and franchises. We've sent officers after her case files and they all have been lost in the field. She is not a thief. She's a crime boss."
Shotzi chimed in, "If the sheriff was really chasing her, what happened to him?"
The surrounding officers answered her question, "He's dead."
"I doubt it. He's probably being held prisoner."
"Why would The Gem Bandit hold him prisoner? She'd just kill him and move on with her life."
"Sure, she'd kill him. But what about the girl?"
The room fell silent at her mention. Everyone silently mulling over that fact. One officer blurted out, "She could have killed them both!"
They all jumped at him to silence such negative speech. One woman peaking outside the door to make sure nobody heard him. Especially not her.
Wesley spoke up, "We have to stay silent. We can't let too many people find out. The longer we delay the public knowing the more time we have to find them."
"Or prepare for the criminal uprising."
"That's enough out of you, Malcolm!" Wesley threw a frustrated finger his way, then cooled down for a second. His voice a bit more down-trotted, "And whatever you do, don't tell the kid. I don't think he can take it."
A loud bang could be heard from the front of the station. Several officers left the room to investigate the noise, leaving only five people in the captain's quarters (including Wesley, Shotzi, and Otto). The eldest officer took a deep breath, slowly approaching the captain as he observed the blurry image of Shelly. He spoke openly when he felt his presence, "Who is she?"
After a short cooldown, he gave a response. "A genius."
"Otto, a genius invents the wheel. A genius created the first computer. A genius decided to put melted cheese on his flavorless chips. This woman isn't a genius, she's a criminal."
"...Maybe. But she's a teen that's avoided law enforcement for years. Created a team of hooligans whose numbers we cannot count. And between you and me..." he leaned in. Whispering into the Captain's ear, "She's only gonna get smarter."
At Otto's conclusion, the door burst open, a young officer rushing in with an exasperated expression. "Sir, we need you in the front."
The captain and his remaining officers made their way to the main lobby. They expected an angry civilian or some sketchy characters loitering outside. What they got was a blonde family, a father with a shining golden beard to accent his baby blue eyes. A younger male that looked like he was currently training to become an Olympian guarding what he could only perceive as a triplet of his younger sisters. Each one so identical he thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him. At the front desk was a mother-son duo that had dirtier hair in comparison to the rest. They were roughly the same height, just a few inches smaller than the father but their tempers made up for their size.
"Where is my baby?!" Wesley watched as she slammed her hands on the counter. The receptionist tried her best to calm the angry mother down but failed miserably.
He took his time approaching the counter but was abruptly stopped by the muscular boy. He stood at eye level, yet he still felt this intimidating aura radiating off him. His eyes weren't bright like the father and the girls, they seemed lifeless. Like he had abandoned humanity to reach this level.
Wesley wasn't amused, "You really wanna do this?" He flashed his badge to show his stature on the force. The oldest boy didn't even flinch. He stood tall and leered at the captain. Wesley took a deep breath, puffing out his chest and raising his chin. "You don't want this boy."
"Don't mind him, officer." The father stepped up with a simple smile, "Roltz here doesn't talk much. He's a sweetheart I swear, just a little frustrated currently."
"Well, you should get your son under control, before he does something he regrets." Wesley backed off a little, "Now if you don't mind, may you reign in your wife."
"Hah, I'm not gonna give my hand to a tiger." The father's smile was as golden as his goatee.
"Fair enough. I'll talk to her." Just as Wesley moved to the mother, the father's hand firmly pushed against his chest.
"Sorry, but you're not who we're looking for."
Wesley kept his cool this time, "Maybe I can help you find him."
"Oh, we know you can. We've been asking for him since we got here. So if'n you could be so kind. Why don't you go grab ya boss?" Wesley was surprised as this new country drawl seemed to ooze from what was a very distinguished man.
Though he was more frustrated with the lack of information he was getting. "And who is my boss?"
"Mr. Officer?" Wesley looked down at the Olympian's knees. The triplets each peeked out from a different position. They talked strangely, each finishing the other's sentence. Like they were a three-headed-dog speaking in riddles and rhymes.
"Do you know..."
"...where our..."
"...brother is?"
His heart nearly exploded. Or it would if his mind wasn't frantically connecting the dots. A family of mostly blondes with blue eyes. All angry about something out of the blue. Looking for his boss. Are these...
"The Florence Family." Wesley turned to see the old soul of Otto finally approaching. With his arrival, the tone of the father changed back to bright and cheery.
"Bismarck! Glad to see ya."
"-martin but who cares. I see your family is just as lively at night as the day."
"Mr. Otto?"
The old officer looked down at the triplets, "And how are you three golden angels?"
The girls perked up a little at his arrival, "...If you're here..."
"...then that means..."
"...is she?"
Shotzi burst through the door, "Jasmine, Julie, Joeann!"
"Shotzi!" they screamed in unison, tackling the older girl and rolling around in a pile of black, blonde, and green hair.
As the girls giggled together, Captain Wesley's mind went into overdrive. Why were they here? Why were they so angry? And why did something feel off?
"YOU!"
Wesley was startled by the sudden call, "M-Me?"
His gray uniform was taken into the strong yet soft arms of the Florence matriarch. The smaller woman pulling him down to her level, "What did you do?"
Wesley was too confused to answer the question. He was now close enough to see her large cheekbones and rosy red cheeks. If it hadn't been for the current scowl directed at him, she would have been beautiful.
"You listening to me?"
"Ma'am, please calm down."
"I don't want to calm down! I want Tyler!"
There it was. This feeling that he couldn't shake. This feeling that something was missing. He scanned the family once again. Two boys (one large the other a tad smaller) a triplet of girls, a short mother, and an astute father. The missing piece was an annoying miniature missile with a mismatch bowl-cut and buckteeth.
Wesley looked down, "He's not here?"
"Don't tell me what I already know." The mother threw him around a bit as her anger seemed to grow. A few officers stepped up to help but Otto raised a hand to calm them. "Where is he? The sheriff picked my darling angel Tyler up yesterday and I haven't seen him since. Where is he? Where's the sheriff?"
Wesley was still in shock, "He's... He's not here?"
"Stop saying that! I want the sheriff, now!" She pushed him off to the side. Her eyes clamped shut and her mouth wide open. "COLTON!"
There was a long silence. Many of the officers now stepping away slowly. The path they formed allowed a new figure to be seen. A large woman with a strong build and a powerful presence. This mighty body was currently battling the throes of grief. Her eyes puffy and red from what was assumed to be a lifetime's worth of tears. Yet her face devoid of any emotion, as if she had lost the strength to feel anymore.
She took her time walking through the crowd, a somber sound emanating from the soft taps of her feet. When she was face to face with the mother of Florence, she looked down on her from an extra head above. With an empty stare, she said...
"He's not here."
In that instance, any frustrations the Florences had flew from their bodies like a jet. The girls that were previously a ball of joy began to openly cry into the chest of the female officer. The men of the family silently brooded as the realization finally settled in. A new depressing air choking the lights out of the room.
The two mothers of their respective families comforted one another. While Mrs. Florence cried into Marci's larger chest, she was happy to allow another to find comfort in her warmth. For she knew all too well how it would feel to fall asleep with a fragmented family.