The Town That Wasn't

The air in Mexico City was thick with heat and the ever-present hum of the metropolis. Jessica stepped off the plane, her duffel bag slung over one shoulder, sunglasses shielding her eyes from the late afternoon sun. Leanna and Olivia followed behind, each carrying only what they needed. The trip was meant to be short—just long enough to assess the situation and decide if it was worth further investigation.

Rodrigo Mejía was waiting for them just past customs, a wiry man in his forties with the restless energy of someone always chasing a story. His pressed linen shirt and well-worn satchel gave him the appearance of an old-school journalist, someone who still believed in truth more than clickbait.

"Señoritas," he greeted, flashing a grin. "Welcome to Mexico."

Jessica nodded. "Rodrigo. Hope we didn’t make you wait too long."

"Not at all," he replied. "I was just enjoying the sight of three dangerous women walking through my airport." He chuckled. "Come, we should talk somewhere quieter."

Jessica followed, but the hair on the back of her neck hadn’t stopped bristling since customs. This wasn’t just another case. It felt like the start of something deeper. Something older.

He led them to a café outside the airport. The place was loud but not overwhelmingly so. The the smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon lingered in the air. They settled into a back booth, Jessica and Leanna on one side, Olivia next to Rodrigo on the other. A waiter took their order—black coffee for Jessica and Olivia, café de olla for Leanna.

"Tell us what you’ve got," Olivia prompted, pulling out her tablet.

Rodrigo exhaled, rubbing his temples. "The town is called San Tomás, or at least that’s what the road signs say. But officially? It didn’t exist before last month. No records. No old maps showing any settlement. No census data. And yet—there it is, fully built, people living in it."

Jessica leaned forward. "And they don’t remember anything?"

Rodrigo shook his head. "Every person there only remembers the last few weeks. They woke up in their homes, knowing each other, knowing the town layout—but nothing before. No childhood memories, no past."

Leanna frowned. "That doesn’t just happen."

"Exactly." Rodrigo pulled out his phone and showed them aerial photos. "Satellite images show nothing there six months ago. Then, suddenly, buildings, roads, infrastructure—overnight. The government claims it’s a new housing development."

“New housing development?” Rodrigo scoffed. “Maybe. But who builds a perfect town in the middle of nowhere, staffs it with people who don’t remember who they are, and forgets to tell the cartographers?”

Jessica took the phone, studying the images. "Has anyone tried leaving?"

Rodrigo hesitated. "That’s the other thing. There are no roads leading in or out—just a single dirt path that ends in a dead zone. And the people? They don’t even question it. It’s like something is keeping them there."

Leanna exchanged a look with Jessica. Vanguard. It had to be Vanguard.

"Someone else has been asking questions," Rodrigo continued, lowering his voice. "A woman. Government-looking. Sharp suit, clean cut. She came through a week ago, asking about the town, but then she disappeared."

Jessica tensed. "Disappeared?"

Rodrigo nodded. "She checked into a hotel, but she never checked out. Staff said she just left one night. No bags, no trace."

Olivia sighed, setting down her tablet. "So we’re walking into a place with no history, people with no past, and a missing investigator. Perfect."

Rodrigo smirked. "I knew you’d like it."

Jessica tapped her fingers against the table, thinking. "We’ll need transportation, supplies, and a way to get in without drawing attention. Any ideas?"

Rodrigo slid a key across the table. "There’s a Jeep parked outside. It’s yours. Take it and head southeast. Just… be careful."

Jessica pocketed the key and nodded. "We always are."

As they left the café, Jessica couldn’t shake the feeling that they were already being watched. A man in a light-colored linen suit sat alone at a table near the door, sipping espresso. He didn’t look up as they passed, but he stirred his espresso in that slow, counterclockwise circle Jessica remembered too well. Her chest tightened. Mr. Black didn’t need to be seen to be known. but Jessica felt the weight of his presence.

She said nothing until they were in the Jeep, engines revving.

"We’re not alone in this," she muttered.

Leanna, in the passenger seat, shot her a look. "What do you mean?"

Jessica glanced in the rearview mirror. "Mr. Black is here."

Olivia cursed under her breath. "Fantastic. Just what we need."

Jessica gripped the wheel and pulled onto the road. "Let’s find out what’s really happening in San Tomás."