The Black Meridian
Act I The snow in Roswell fell differently than snow anywhere else. Jack Calloway had learned this in the three weeks since he'd been assigned to the site. It didn't drift; it arrived. One moment the sky was empty, the next it was full of something white and silent and wrong. He stood at the edge of the crater—the real one, not the one the newspapers had written about—and looked down at the...
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