Nightzone by Steven F. Havill

ahead. I was going to hunt you up today sometime anyway. I’ve already made up my mind that I’m not going to accept the ad.”
    â€œThis came in the mail?”
    He shook his head. “Door drop. Along with cash to cover four weeks’ insertion.”
    â€œCash?” I adjusted my trifocals and maneuvered the flashlight. The format of the ad was professionally printed, with “1/4 page, 4 wks” written in the top margin in pen. The content was one of those wordy diatribes that folks like to run in small rural newspapers announcing that THE END IS NEAR, or ONLY 5 DAYS LEFT TO FIND JESUS. This one had nothing to do with religious fervor, though. The headline left no room for doubt: THE GOVERNMENT IS WATCHING AND LISTENING TO YOUR PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS!!! NO CELL PHONE IS SAFE!!!
    The headline, complete with exclamation points, snaked around a photo of a radio telescope much like the ones at the Very Large Array northeast of us near Magdalena. Stealing and modifying a scene from a recent hit film, a black Suburban was parked near one of the antennas. A black-suited man had his briefcase open on the hood, headphones snuggled on his ears.
    THEY’RE NOT LISTENING TO THE STARS…THEY’RE LISTENING TO YOU!!!
    â€œWhat amazing bullshit,” I said. What followed, in only marginally smaller print, was a diatribe against government in all forms, the feds in particular. Also targeted was the United Nations, with WORLD ORDER NOW DICTATING THE AMERICAN WAY OF LIFE!!!
    Despite the sobering nature of the night so far, with two corpses and an eco-thug stunt that wasn’t any brighter than most such, I still managed an amused chuckle as I read on. Then the chuckle died as the silly manifesto became a personal attack.
    DON’T BE FOOLED BY WHAT’S GOING ON IN SOUTHWESTERN POSADAS COUNTY. THAT’S NOT AN INNOCENT OBSERVATORY CURRENTLY UNDER CONSTRUCTION ON THE MESA. DO YOU WANT A UNITED NATIONS LISTENING POST AND COMMAND CENTER IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD? DO YOU WANT FOREIGNERS CONTROLLING YOUR LIFE, YOUR COMMUNICATIONS, EVEN YOUR EVERY THOUGHT? DO YOU WANT A RUNWAY FOR MILITARY JETS AND SURVEILLANCE-ATTACK DRONES IN YOUR BACKYARD?
    JOIN THE FIGHT NOW. TAKE THE FIRST STEPS WITH US IN OUR RESISTANCE TO THIS INTRUSION. FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHTS!
    â€œChrist, now we’ve got the ‘resistance,’” I muttered. At the bottom of the ad was the admonition, JOIN WITH US TO DRIVE THE FOREIGNERS FROM POSADAS COUNTY. RETURN YOUR HOME TO YOUR CONTROL. ENJOY PEACE, PRIVACY, AND ABOVE ALL, HOME RULE.
    Centered on the bottom margin, PAID FOR BY THE COMMITTEE OF AMERICAN VALUES didn’t include a name or address. So what did one join, and with whom?
    â€œDropped off, you say? You obviously didn’t see who it was.”
    â€œNope. Dropped in the mail slot through our front door. That and twelve hundred dollars in cash. All hundred dollar bills.”
    â€œTwelve hundred bucks. Not bad, Frank. That’s a serious investment on their part.”
    â€œI just can’t do that. Not an ad without a name and address. I mean, hell.” He scratched his head. “I don’t know what to do with the money. I mean, I can’t return it, unless somebody comes forward. But I won’t run the ad. That’s final.” He took the ad copy and slid it back into the envelope. It would have been easy to laugh the ad off, but twelve hundred bucks was serious ammunition. The tally was now two deaths and a heap of money. That was no laughing matter.
    â€œYou need to show that to the sheriff,” I suggested. “There’s an implied connection there that he’ll want to see. And he’ll want to process the originals. There’s nothing I can do for you, except tell you to be careful. We’re dealing with some serious fruitcakes here, Frank. Be very, very careful. Tell Pam the same thing.” His editor didn’t move from her chair often, but she was well