Cold Iron by Inigo Sharpe

The Population of New Islington, Rhode Island is 327,187 and counting. As an all American City it has people who live and work with in it. They live their lives in earnest. Some honestly, some not. All of them, living and dying, crying and laughing, doing the things that humans do. Carrying on with their business with no special need to ever fear in the dark. No regard to the dark realities that lie within the deeper shadows. Why would they? There is nothing to fear there. There is nothing that goes bump in the dark. And even if there were there are certainly no monsters more frightening than the avaricious curiosity of the mortal beast. There is a reason they call this the age of man.

“Something is afoot. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. There are two great powers moving in our great nation of men. Three if you count the nation itself. And now they’re all moving. All their pieces marching up the chessboard. Something in the world has changed, pushing them into action. There is something that they all have to have. Something that no party can risk the others getting their hands on. What it is…they’ll find it in New Islington.” – The Delivery Man