Excerpt from Numb

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Flash Palo Alto California A/P newswire
Intercepted from broadwave radio transmitter somewhere near El Toro CA.
"....Black and twisting! Like a funnel o' God comin' outta the sky! The wind turned colors, blue-silver-purples I ain't never seen before, Sam. It was like someone smeared some sick lightning bugs across the air in thin ribbons."
Silence
"Hell no Sam, not in two years, you know that! What the hell is he up to I'd like to know."
Silence
"Well I'd swear it was coming from Miller's place. I was putting those shingles I got off Ed on the dog house and heard what sounded like a whip crack from over the Miller's fence. Heard it a few times more, but faster see? An' this wind comes whipping through all of a sudden..."
Silence
"I know its sunny Sam, but suddenly it's like someone turned out the lights over my yard. Could still see the sun on Davis's house, but I'm in shade n' wind. So I look up and there it is man. Mufucka was a whirling black snake, big around as a bus, spinning in the air! It was sucking leaves n stuff into itself, then the air around it turns colors! Colors! Like, hell, I dunno what like! It was...."
Silence
"Well, no. Not exactly. It was like the air just, well, turned! And it didn't last long either. It kinda just got smaller. Fast - until there was nothing left, but the shiny air."
Silence
"Yeah shiny air! All kinds of weird mood-ring colors, Sam. Then they were gone, fast. Then CRACK! that whip sound, only this time I could FEEL the air twitch with the sound."
Silence
"Dunno. Next thing I hear, while I'm cleaning up the shingles that got blown against the fence, is someone laughing in the Miller's yard, sounds like his boy Craig, then his back door slamming shut. So I called you. You think I should go over there?"
Silence
Silence
-Piece recorded on ham-radio equipment by Samuel Ripkin at 2:00pm Sunday.

After neighbors heard his dog barking for hours, and called the Sheriff's office, a sixty-two year old El Toro man is considered missing and endangered today. Police refuse to give details, saying only that there appears to have been foul play. Police are asking anyone to come forward with information regarding the whereabouts of Bobby Martinez of 1145 Gecko Way.

Midnight, an old news station van, resting wheel less on rails against a rusty corrugated fence near the back of the old Erie Salvage lot.
"Dude. Did you see the locals? They're all pre-empted. You got their attention... The hell's wrong with you?" Dax's brow furrowed as he read his pad, his earbud blinking blue as he listened to the same script being read by the local padcast announcer. He flicked a look at the worried looking Craig Miller who was also staring into his pad but typing furiously with his thumbs.
"Shut up Dax." snarled the younger, toe-headed youth. "Pack's not gonna give a crap. Carol did that cop and he took care of it." He grinned cruelly and drew his will inward, causing Dax to sit up straight from his pad and stab a finger at him.
"Don't you frikkin' dare!" Dax stood slowly, keeping his finger pointed between Craig's eyes. "You're not that good, punk. And you're NOT Carol! I can hear you ringin' the bell from a mile away." His finger suddenly pointed at a tiny blue mote about an inch from its tip. A harshly bright blue pinhead of pure light blinked and pulsed erratically in the air. As quickly as it had come, it blinked once and boiled out of existence. Dax lowered his hand and frowned, turning back to his pad.
" An' I'll cut you in half before I let the Pack even think it was me!"
Craig Miller looked back to his pad and breathed out slowly, slumping his back as he did. Millions of fine particles of dust that had been slowly lining up in concentric spheres around the two teens, rotating their negatively charged poles to Craig, returned to their slow, random drift back through the air. Dax relaxed only slightly, keeping one eye, one ear, and his FEEL pinned on Craig Miller.
Silence
His pad vibrated quickly once and his earbud pinged. He already knew whose face would be onscreen when he looked down.