“Where have you been?!” asked Jane, as Matt fell into the spot beside her. It was late afternoon, and half the Hall was still abuzz. Jane couldn’t stop grinning. Her wounds were healed, her clothes were clean and she was eating cake. Real, actual cake. Jane couldn’t remember the last time she’d had cake, but it tasted amazing. This was the greatest cake of her life. “Did you see the Challenge? I wasn’t sure if you saw, I mean I couldn’t see if you saw, I just-”

“Come with me,” Matt muttered under his breath. His face was as pale as a sheet, but Jane was too excited to pay attention.

“Look,” she crowed in a whisper, ducking her head down, keeping her voice low. She opened her hand in her lap, almost quivering with excitement. Her fingers uncurled discreetly, revealing the silver eagle still nestled in her palm, in the same place where she’d caught it hours ago, where it was probably going to stay forever because she was never letting it go, “Look what I got Matt, look what he gave me!”

Matt’s eyes barely grazed the badge.

“I need your help,” he whispered, his voice low and urgent.

“Now?” she laughed, “Matt, don’t you realise what this is, don’t you know what it means?!”

“It’s great Jane, fantastic,” Matt muttered, not sounding like he heard, not sounding like he understood, “Congratulations. It’s really good. Please.”

Only now did Jane begin to notice the tremors in his voice. For the first time since her hand grasped the eagle, her smile faltered. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked. Matt shook his head.

“I need your help,” he repeated. His voice was low, but his eyes were frantic. “Just twenty-four hours, that’s all I need, I-”

Jane frowned. “This isn’t some stupid party thing is it?” she replied, sounding sceptical, “They’re running dark drills tonight and-”

“Jane,” Matt whispered, and this time she really heard the desperation with which he said her name, “For God’s sake. You’re done, you’ve done it. I need you. I’m begging you. Take the day off.”

And suddenly, the realisation clicked.

“You’ve found something,” she murmured. Matt jerked his head to one side, his eyes racing around the crowded room. He rose from the bench and Jane followed without a moment’s hesitation.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice low, his words trembling. They strode out the Hall, through the corridors, Matt almost on the verge of breaking into a run, Jane struggling to keep up. “I can’t tell. I don’t know if I’m seeing things or going insane or-”

They scaled the winding stairs to the third floor, two at a time. Matt glanced back at her.

“You know Dawn’s history,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Like the back of my hand,” Jane shrugged, unashamed. Matt nodded.

“Good,” he muttered, “Because we need to find someone.”

“Who?”

“Anyone,” Matt replied, “Anybody from Dawn’s past.”

He breathed.

“Anyone who’s still alive.”

*****

They worked through the night. Matt plundering the depths of the internet on his laptop, Jane combing through the Captain Dawn biographies she’d read so often as a child. They trawled through old newspapers, public records, files from Coal Point, the State Department, the National Archives, anything, everything they could find. Hunched over in Matt’s room, barely a word passing between them, the hours started melding together. Some time after midnight, Jane brought up a second computer and a whiteboard from the labs – the former she searched on, the latter soon covered in names, pictures, clippings. Missing persons, land titles, coroner’s reports – endless databases, articles, searches. Painstaking records of the first Legion’s origins, their every move, every fight, every encounter. All leading to the same point, the same result. With every passing minute, every scribbled date, every crossed off name, there grew a greater, darker, billowing sense of dread – of a single, unfathomable, inescapable conclusion-

“They’re all dead.”

It was after 10am. The sun had long since risen, daylight peeking around the blinds, but the room still swelled with the chill of darkness and the burn of artificial light. They were both sitting, surrounded, piles of files and papers strewn everywhere, the whiteboard heavy with marker and tac. Their eyes were red, their hands stiff. Neither had slept a second the entire night. But neither one felt tired.

Matt face was pale and drawn, and his head shook as his hands ran through his hair.

“They’re all dead,” he whispered again, “Everyone. Everyone from Dawn’s past. Everyone he ever… he ever…”

Jane said nothing. She didn’t know what to say, if she even could say anything. What was she supposed to do, to think, to feel? Her heart was pounding in her chest, a dry, sickly metallic taste on her tongue. The Challenge, the Arena, the silver eagle – it all seemed like another world, a lifetime away, before this… before… what was this?

What the hell was going on?

She sat in shaken silence as Matt kept babbling. He’d barely spoke for nearly sixteen hours, but now he’d started, he couldn’t seem to stop.

“Everyone,” he stammered, “Everyone! His… his sister. His cousins. His friends, his- his classmates! Everyone he grew up with, but, but, it’s not just that, it’s-” He held up a list of crossed out names, his hands trembling. Jane didn’t need to see what was on there. She’d help write it. “It’s everyone! His, his neighbours, his enemies, his family doctor, his-” Matt unleashed a string of incredulous swear words, “-childhood dentist, for crying out loud! They’re all dead! There’s… there’s…”

He sunk down onto his bed, holding the sides of his head in his hands. “Half the population of Coal Point is gone, and nobody even noticed. How did they… how is this…?”

“I don’t get it,” whispered Jane, her voice hoarse. She felt sick to her stomach.

“It doesn’t make sense!” Matt cried out, throwing his hands in the air, “There’s, there’s no pattern, they’re not… I mean look at this, listen!” He picked up another fold-scrap list and began reading causes of death. “Heart attack aneurysm cancer. Overdose, overdose, suicide, Year of Chaos Year of Chaos, car accident. Fall off a horse, hit by a bus, building collapse, house fire. Mugging, gas leak, suicide, stroke, stroke heart attack. What…” he spluttered, struggling for words, “There’s no link! There’s no common cause! These people…” he rifled through newspaper clippings, “They’re all completely different! They’d moved hundreds of miles apart! They’ve got nothing in common!”

“Except they all knew the same person,” Jane murmured. A cold pit of dread settled over her stomach. She finally looked up. “It’s not just his friends. It’s not just his family.”

“Everyone Captain Dawn ever knew is dead.”