Clear Water, Hidden Danger

Chapter 3 – The First Sign

At one-thirty, I was back in the guard shack at Clear Water Plant, watching the cameras like a man trying to will the world to make sense. The hour between noon and one had passed in silence. No interference, no movement, just stillness. Even the wind refused to show up.

When you spend enough time alone on a job like this, silence stops being peaceful. It starts to breathe.

At one-forty-five, I saw Sharon walking along the outer path near the filtration tanks. Clipboard in hand, hair tied up under a cap, moving like someone forcing their body to obey.

“Sharon, you good out there?” I said into the radio.

She turned toward the nearest camera, gave a quick wave, and smiled. But something in her eyes looked off—too wide, too still.

“Fine, RJ. Just checking the readouts,” she said. Her voice cracked halfway through the sentence, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Copy that,” I said.

By two-fifteen, the cameras picked up the animals again. They were showing up about two to three hours apart now. The first few appeared by the south fence, followed by dozens more. The group stretched across the entire gate line.

The radio crackled. Dave’s voice came through, sounding strained. “We’re getting ear pressure here. Not sure what it is. Mark says it’s probably the weather front.”

“Not sure that’s it,” I said.

The second hand on the clock reached twenty after two.

And then it started.

The first tremor hit light. The coffee mug on my desk quivered, rings forming on the surface. The floor shook, steady but not violent. I stood, one hand braced on the edge of the desk, watching as the monitors flickered.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t even really sound. It was vibration—humming under everything like a buried engine coming alive.

Outside, the animals panicked. On the screen, deer stumbled, birds dropped from the fence posts, and a fox darted into the open road before collapsing. They twitched for a few seconds, then went still.

The shaking stopped after exactly one minute.

The silence that followed was worse.

I picked up the radio. “Plant Command, this is Security One. All units check in.”

Nothing. Then a burst of static. Then voices.

“Copy that,” Dave said finally, his tone tight. “We felt it too. Some of the readings jumped during the rumble.”

“Any damage?”

“Not sure yet. Sharon went down near the clean-water tanks. She’s breathing but not responding.”

I was already on my feet, keys in hand.

The drive to the lower section felt wrong. The sunlight looked washed out, too pale. My ears rang even though there was no sound. By the time I reached the main walkway, the air smelled of ozone and metal, sharp enough to sting.

Inside, the generators hummed low, echoing through the metal floor. Workers leaned against walls, blinking slowly, rubbing their eyes. One of the engineers vomited into a bin, his hands shaking.

Down near the clean-water tanks, it was different. The noise was deafening there, and everyone wore ear protection. Those workers were fine—confused, but not sick.

Dave met me halfway down the stairs. His face was pale. “It hit hard down here. Sharon’s the worst of it.”

She sat against a tank, breathing shallow, ear protection hanging loose around her neck. Her eyes were open but empty, like she was listening to something we couldn’t hear.

“Sharon,” I said, crouching beside her. “Can you hear me?”

Her pupils dilated. She turned her head slowly toward me, mouth half open, whispering something too soft to make out.

Dave frowned. “What’s she saying?”

“I don’t know.”

She blinked twice, then smiled—a small, distant smile that didn’t belong on her face.

Then her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.

The grip was strong—too strong. I tried to pull back, but she held on tight. Her lips moved again. This time I heard it, barely above a whisper.

“It’s coming back.”

Her eyes rolled up, and she slumped forward. I caught her before she hit the ground. Her skin felt hot, almost feverish, but her pulse was steady.

We carried her to the break area and laid her on one of the benches. Someone brought water, another brought a fan. She didn’t move.

Dave turned to the others. “Everyone without hearing protection, grab some upstairs—now.”

They hesitated but obeyed. The sound of boots on metal stairs echoed like thunder in the silence.

I stayed beside Sharon. Every few seconds, her fingers twitched, tapping the metal bench in a slow, steady rhythm. Tap, pause, tap.

It matched the time pattern of the tremor.

I checked my watch. 2:38 PM. We had no idea what caused this, or what that tremor was.

Dave leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. “We need to call the county. Maybe they’re feeling this too.”

“Already tried,” I said. “No signal. Landline’s dead.”

He looked at Sharon. “You think she’s sick?”

“I don’t know what this is,” I said. “But if it were spreading, we’d all be down by now.”

Mark came down from the upper offices, his face red—the kind of red that meant he was looking for someone to blame.

“Dave,” he barked. “What the hell was that? The systems went crazy.”

“Don’t know yet,” Dave said. “We’re checking flow levels. RJ saw something strange outside too—animals at the fence again.”

Mark looked at me, frowning. “Animals? That’s your big report?”

“I’m telling you, something’s drawing them in,” I said. “And whatever it is, it’s tied to those pulses. Every few hours, more of them show up.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but a sound cut him off.

Sharon was mumbling again, voice dry and thin. I leaned closer.

Her voice was a low rasp now, barely a sound. “Don’t let it in.”

“Let what in?” I asked.

Her eyes snapped open. They looked glassy and wrong, reflecting the ceiling lights like mirrors.

She smiled again, wider this time.

I stepped back.

“Don’t... let... it in,” she said, her voice cracking as if she were fighting something inside her own throat.

Her fingers twitched again, tapping that same rhythm against the metal. Every pulse matched my heartbeat.

Dave put a hand on my shoulder. “RJ, what did she—”

Dave stopped mid-sentence. And what happened next, no one saw coming.