The town, betrayed by time passed, lies forsaken.
Lost, lain memories, like tumbleweeds, awaken
John Anderson, Abandoned
The spray of sparks startled the yellow-eyed entity. It looked toward the direction from which the blue blast came and produced an ugly, sinister hiss. Another blast of blue energy pummeled the creature and it spilled backward. Regaining its balance, it hissed once more and ran off. Within seconds the figure of the man in the sweater appeared from the corner and ran after the creature. Glen sprinted while Spencer, a wave of distrust washing over him, reluctantly kept pace. The pair reached the street which was as dark and deserted as the rest of Deer Tick Creek. The man with the sweater who now stood in the middle of the street next to a large pothole. Something unrecognizable to Glen was in the man’s right hand. Perhaps it was a weapon. Before he could get a closer look, the man put whatever it was back in his satchel.
“What the hell was that?” Glen asked. “What was the blue light and the sparks? Did you do that?” But the man didn’t answer his question. Instead he pointed toward a three-story brick building at the point the street ended.
“He went into the old high school.” The man’s breathing was still a bit labored after his run. “Care to join me?”
“Not until you tell me what the blue light was,” Glen said.
The man said nothing and ran toward the school.
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