4338.211 · July 30, 2018 AD
Thirty Minutes Ago
A new lead connects to Karl's case: conservationists Karen and Chris Owen haven't been seen for days, and a mysterious delivery truck has been spotted at their remote Collinsvale property. As Karl and Sarah drive into wilderness under gathering storm clouds, their fragile partnership is tested by absurd chicken encounters and mounting tension. Then dispatch crackles with urgent news: someone was at the property thirty minutes ago. The investigation just became active—and dangerous.
Karl wakes from inadequate sleep to a breakthrough: the Owens' disappearance features the same mysterious delivery truck spotted at Luke Smith's property. Sarah's already logged it formally—everything by the book this time. As they drive toward Collinsvale, storm clouds gather on the western horizon whilst brilliant sunshine bathes them from above. The contrast feels prophetic.
Their tense journey shatters into absurdity when stubborn chickens block the road. One regal hen stares Karl down with pure disdain, refusing to move despite his increasingly desperate horn honking. Sarah evacuates the car to herd them, only to become the Pied Piper of poultry as they follow her back onto the road. Karl drives slowly ahead, laughing, whilst Sarah chases chickens whilst concussed. For one brief moment, old rhythms resurface—teasing, laughter, connection cutting through yesterday's damage.
The forest tunnel opens onto a picturesque clearing: stone cottage, cedar extension, bottle-green shutters. Sarah stands in the rain, smiling genuinely for the first time since the violence. Potoroos nibble grass by the barn. Karl watches her soften, belonging to this landscape despite her protests.
Then the radio crackles: "A lot of activity at the property. Went quiet about thirty minutes ago."
Thirty minutes. Not hours. Recent. Too recent.
The investigation just became something else entirely.
