All Chapters of Field Team 42: Paranormal Responders: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

It had been almost a year since the events of Memorial Day weekend 2024. Dust Bowl, Arizona being a town of only 2000 people, only had so many resources for clean up from what had happened the year before. It was true that the Dirt had been an annual event from the end of World War II in the 1940’s until it was ended in 2024. The residents had recovered from its aftermath year after year, maintaining their town as a viable part of Arizona’s tourist industry. You could say they were very practiced at it. They would unboard windows and clean up the streets. The Dirt substance itself had always just disappeared like pixie dust once the proscribed week-long time period of the curse was over. So, too, the Green Sludge disappeared. But 2024 had been different. Never before had the Dirt brought a Kandahar giant to the town. Or a Slitherer. Or a horde of concentration camp zombies. The town simply could not bounce back from the Dirt storm of 2024 the way it had from all the previous Dirt st

Carl’s journal wasn’t meant to be mine, but it is now. I don’t expect anyone reading this to understand. But I’m writing it anyway. Consider this a ‘guest chapter.’I’m X. You may know me from the events that brought Field Team 42 together, the battles, the impossible odds, the stakes too high to imagine. But I’m not here to talk about those. I’m here to explain what’s been happening on my side, in my own words, because if I don’t, the story Carl’s telling won’t be complete.I don’t remember much from the first days after I was captured by Control. Maybe the stress of it all blocked it out, or maybe I didn’t want to remember. I had been on the run, yes, but I was used to it. But when I was trapped in this facility, something changed. I wasn’t just running from Control. I was running from the world I had built. And that world, in all its complexity, had one thing in common: J. My son. I’ve been thinking about him more than ever in here.But let’s back up. Let’s talk about how I got he

The motorcycle roars to life beneath me as I speed through the empty streets, the engine's hum reverberating in the cold desert air. The sound cuts through the silence of the night, and for a moment, I can pretend like everything is fine. That I’m just another man on the road, chasing nothing but freedom.But that’s not the case.The headlights of a black car blink in the distance behind me. Mr. Y is already in pursuit. The familiar, dangerous gleam of his MIB-issued vehicle is unmistakable. Even in the rearview mirror, I can feel the weight of his gaze. He’s coming.I push the throttle down harder, feeling the motorcycle surge forward, eating up the miles. I twist and turn, weaving in and out of narrow alleyways and between buildings that feel as though they’re dissolving into the darkness. I know that Y’s car can’t follow me through this. The motorcycle can navigate places his car can’t.The desert road ahead stretches out in front of me like a never-ending ribbon. A small part of m

The cold desert wind sliced through the night as I revved the engine, pushing my motorcycle down the empty highway. The dark sky stretched endlessly above me, punctuated only by the occasional flicker of distant stars. The air smelled of dust and sagebrush, the kind of smell that sticks to your clothes and lingers in your lungs. It felt... familiar, even though it was all too easy to forget how unsettling this world had become since the Neurovores started their campaign.I should have been focused on the road ahead. I should have been thinking about Dust Bowl, about the Hellgate, about the thousands of lives at risk. But instead, my mind kept drifting back to the fight with Mr. Y. The victory was hollow. I had won, yes, but at what cost? The vetala’s lingering influence, its twisted memories... I was trying to move forward, but the weight of it all kept pulling me back.The motorcycle roared beneath me, a comforting hum in the night, as I sped through the desolate stretch of desert.

The desert had a way of making everything feel too vast, too empty. It stretched out in all directions, leaving nothing but sand and scattered scrub as far as the eye could see. Except for Dust Bowl, the defiant little town that had stuck it out here, from the gritty determination of the original pioneers, to the people who’d survived decades of the Dirt Curse, Dust Bowl was still here. The town and the roads leading to it were humanity’s mark on what otherwise would be untamed wilderness.This wasn’t just another job. This was the final mission. The Good Rock Mine, the Hellgate, the Neurovores, all of it needed to be wiped from existence. The stakes had never been higher.Spitfire had hacked into the Control system earlier that day, making sure there were no surprises waiting for us. No incoming patrols. No hidden surprises. Everything was lined up perfectly. Bob and Dr. Schnell were already setting up the explosives, a grim determination on both of their faces. Mitch and Rachelle we