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Hunter had also ridiculed his tale of the blue bats “Dude—or should I call you the Huht Your blue bats? According to you, they woke up when it got light How do you figure? Plus, no one but you has ever seen them”

“They’re blue, like the sky, so you wouldn’t see theh the water,” Duck had pointed out to no avail

He let go of the club door Probably better that it was closed He was lonely, but maybe loneliness wasn’t as bad as the ridicule

Duck looked around, feeling lost It was late No one was out In the old days his parents would have grounded hi the streets at night

No one was in the plaza It was a creepy place at night The graves were there The shattered outline of the church dark against the stars The burned rehts on in town hall—no one bothered going around and turning out lights The street-lights were still on, although some had burned out and others, especially the ones in the plaza, had been broken either by the battle or by vandals

The plaza was a place of ghosts now Ghosts and long shadows

Duck headed wearily toward ho by the church It at least was dark It was lit nowadays only onsyste from the town hall on an extension cord Someone usually remembered to yank the cord out of the socket when they were done

Rubble, some of it massive chunks of masonry, blocked the sidewalk on the church side No one had ever cleaned it up Probably no one ever would Duck walked down thethe shadows on either side

He heard a scuffling sound in the church A dog, probably Or rats

But then, an urgent whisper, “Hey! Hey, Duck!”

Duck stopped The voice was co from the direction of the church

“Dude!” the whisper, louder now

“What? Who is that?” Duck asked

“It’s me, man Hunter Keep it down They’ll kill me if they find me”

“What? Who?”