Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back
Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken
The reluctant monster hunters inched down the corridor of empty lockers and even emptier classrooms all of which was only illuminated by the man’s flashlight. Spencer examined the taser-like device given to him and Glen. It was the size and shape of a magic wand and Spencer mused that perhaps magic would be all that could deliver them from this fate. He didn’t want to be here in this tomb of bygone days. Spencer wondered what these halls looked like all those years ago. Students gathering around their lockers before class. Teachers writing assignments on the blackboard. His thoughts moved to his own teachers, including Mr. Rickman in biology, who used to be on faculty at Deer Tick Creek before moving to Spencer’s high school. Mr. Rickman wouldn’t talk about Deer Tick Creek.
“How do I use this thing?” Spencer worked hard to speak in a hushed tone but also wondered what the point in that was. After all, whatever was in this old place had to know they were there. Perhaps it lurked inside amongst the turned over desks inside one of the classrooms they passed.
“There is a button toward the button,” the man said. “Right near your thumb. Aim at your target and press that button. Similar concept as the gun you wouldn’t take.”
A few feet ahead of them, something scattered in the stairwell.
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