Tuesday, June 11, 2013

On Point

By Colleen Foley

Like sonar pings, I was drawn in precisely the right directions. We ended in a cul-de-sac, facing a sprawling ranch-style monstrosity. All perfectly normal, just like that farm. But I could feel it; the creeping malefaction beneath the surface. I could feel them. Us.

“Turn on your witch-crafty mojo, kid. Turn it on big. Now.”

He gave me a mildly offended sideways glance.

I pointed at my chest. “I’m too close. Your wards are being defeated.”

I cocked my shotgun and moved, voicing a last coherent thought.

“Seth. If we don’t beat this thing, you can’t let me live.”


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