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She’d literally been in a car crash, and fought a giant vampire with sword in hand, but no; this was the thing that had her so scared her legs were trembling. This. Her mom would be laughing at her. “Oh, come on, just get on the boat.” She shook her head, rapidly. “No thank you. I mean, people used to go on boats, but Blackbeard was a pirate then!” Chris sighed. “People used boats long after Blackbeard died.” “Not on Gongen!” “What, are there no oceans or lakes on Gongen—oh.” Suddenly Chris got it, and his demeanor softened. “You really haven’t been on a boat before, have you? Sorry, I don’t know, I just sort of assumed.” She squinted. “Is it safe, like, you can’t see the bottom of the water, and what if I fall off?” “You can just swim to shore!” Chris said cheerily. Then the next thought hit him. “You uh, can swim right?” She shook her head rapidly a second time. “Oh. Really? They don’t teach you that at school?” “Where do you think my family would go to swim? The desert? Do you know how expensive a swimming pool is on a desert planet?” “There’s an artificial beach, right? Don’t you take school trips there?” She held a look at him. “Right, okay. Well with the life vest, you’ll float on top of the water if you fall off, and it’s a sturdy boat! I inspected it myself.” He sighed. “Wish I could have grabbed the Vicinity II.” She put a foot out, and touched it on the hull of the boat. It jiggled slightly and she immediately pulled back. “I’m telling you Chris, this amount of water is not normal. Humans were not meant to be on boats; they should be in their natural habitats—big glass domes.” Chris looked over the side of the boat and watched the fishes swimming around below them.” If you get in the boat you can pick dinner tonight, anything you want.” He turned his eyes back to her; she was clearly chewing on that. “…Even cheonggukjang jjigae?” He would simply have to accept this loss. “Even cheonggukjang jjigae.” He didn’t quite hide his dreariness at the idea, or his queasiness just thinking of its pungent aroma, but his willingness to go that far despite all that seemed to sell her on getting past her own discomfort. She reached her foot out, pulled it back. Reached out, pulled back, and then finally set it in the boat, which wobbled, and caused her to wobble too. She yelped as she lost her balance, and Chris was quick to catch her, helping her down onto the seat on the rowboat. She clutched the sides of the boat cautiously and looked over the edge into the water. “And you’re sure it’s safe?” He unmoored the boat and pushed off. “We’ll be fine.” They started rowing. Chris felt his worries slide away, the calming waters and the gentle sunlight letting him feel a peace he hadn’t felt in ages, while Sang Mi repeatedly grabbed a hold of things, and whispered a long prayer apologizing for everything she had done wrong in the last few months. Eventually, she calmed down (a bit) and while still tense, was able to look around. “So… The Beast of Busco? From the picture in the book, it just looks like a big turtle.” “That’s ‘cause it’s a big turtle.” Sang Mi nodded slowly, then caught herself on the side of the boat again. “I know we’re looking for aliens and cryptids and mysteries, but what if it’s like… just a big turtle?” Chris shrugged. “What’s the biggest turtle you’ve ever seen?” “…Size of a pie plate at the pet shop.” “This would be a lot bigger, so at the very least, we’ll be seeing something new.” “Honestly, this is something new enough. I never thought I’d be on a boat.” His smile was as gentle as the sunlight. “So not so bad?” “No so bad,” she agreed. The sun got lower, until it was a golden-orange crest on the horizon. At that point, Sang Mi had actually gotten calm, and had gotten comfortable enough she was letting her fingertips trace the water’s surface. That was when they saw it. At first, it was a small stream of bubbles. Then the water rippled, and then a head poked out of the water, along with the top of a huge shell. It was indeed a very large snapping turtle. Though perhaps not exactly one, its features were a little more… prehistoric, perhaps? Sang Mi looked over at Chris, her face glowing with an open-mouthed smile. He returned it. It was indeed wonderful. Neither spoke, for fear of disturbing it. It was good enough just to see it. It lifted its jaw up and sniffed the air. Then the noise came. The pair looked over—coming towards the lake was a black helicopter. Sang Mi pulled up her binoculars, and tried to focus in the dusk. “…E… D.E.M. Oh damn it—Chris, it’s those guys who did the child kidnapping in Violethill?” Cursing, Chris stood up, unbalancing the boat and causing Sang Mi to curl up clutching the bench, waving his arms and yelling: “Go back under water! Shoo! Shoo!” He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket, and hurled them into the water with a plop, “SHOO!” The Beast was spooked, and went under the water, and they both deflated in relief. Which was short lived, as things began to drop out of the helicopter into the water. Things that exploded. They hit the surface with a splash, then sank for just long enough it seemed like nothing would happen. But then huge bursts came up in columns as they exploded under the surface, sending waves out in all directions. The boat rolled and Sang Mi yelped as she was thrown overboard. Chris held on, but this wasn’t as useful as he hoped as the boat kept rolling and capsized, his head bobbing up above the water into the overturned hull. He took a deep breath, and swam down and out from under the boat, rising to the surface. He scanned the water, seeing Sang Mi floating safely (if panicked) in her life-vest, and on the shore a group of black SUVs and a huge flatbed truck. The SUVs were pulling on metal cords that sank into the water, which quickly turned into a net holding a huge snapping turtle, crying out in pain. It thrashed against the net, trying to break free, bellowing to the sky as armed E.D.E.M agents shot it over and over with tranquilizers, the SUVs dragging it up the ramp on to the truck as it screamed. “We have to help it!” Sang Mi yelled, trying to figure out how to swim towards it in real time. Chris gritted his teeth. “We will. I promise.” * * * Getting to shore was difficult, but worse: it was time-consuming. By the time they’d reached land, they were both exhausted, soaked, and their targets had long since driven away. If time weren’t an issue, they’d have stopped for the evening right then and there. But instead, they changed into new clothes quickly in the Honda, and Chris gave Sang Mi an important job. “You’re still good with computers, right? You can still do hacking and—” he waggled his fingers over her laptop, “—fancy tech stuff?” She nodded. “I mean, I didn’t lose the ability. The operating systems are different here, but that doesn’t stop me from using my ultimate skill.” Chris furrowed his brow. “Okay. Cause we need to find where they took Oscar.” “Oscar?” “The local nickname for the creature.” She nodded, and instead of opening her laptop pulled her phone out, searched for a few things, then pulled up a phone number, and called. “Hello, Mr. Johnson? Haha, yes. This is Grace from tech support, it looks like we’ve seen some unusual activity from your account. I’d like to take a look if you don’t mind. It’s nice to talk to someone with such a strong voice on these calls, it’s really—oh you run marathons? I might have guessed you were muscular. Could I get your num—I mean your password, haha, so I can check the issue on my end?” She said it all with a completely emotionless expression. “Well, I guess that’s hacking,” Chris mumbled. * * * They followed the address Sang Mi had gotten, and as she read internal emails from E.D.E.M out loud, they were both intrigued by the idea that there was a secret meeting taking place where they were going to, and also annoyed at the sheer ineptitude of the people writing the emails. “A lot of these read like a guy who won’t leave you alone after you told him to go away,” Sang Mi said. “Yeah, that’s their target recruitment demographic,” Cwej said unironically. “I sort of assumed they’d be like… smarter? Is that rude? Elitist?” Chris shook his head as he squeaked a tight turn. “Nah. You just feel like bad guys should have an evil plan that makes sense. I get that. It’s nice to believe, that there’s some sort of hidden meaning to it all. But a lot of the time, bad guys aren’t motivated by brilliance. They’re boring bullies who just like being bullies.” Sang Mi frowned, and looked out the window at the darkening sky. “That’s disappointing.” “Say more.” “It… makes the world feel hollow?” Chris took one hand off the wheel and put it on her shoulder, which he was clearly surprised he had done and caused the car to do a little squiggle on the road. “Someone else’s life feeling hollow doesn’t mean yours is.” She smiled, and then looked down at her phone. “Thanks Ch—WAIT TURN RIGHT.” * * * They drove past their destination, and parked in a field behind some trees. They had seen what it was, and while they had been prepared for most things, they had assumed they had been prepared for anything, but they had not in fact been prepared for ‘generic Italian restaurant’. They trudged through the underbrush, and poked their heads out, Sang Mi using her binoculars to read out the ’restaurant closed for special event’ sign. “I can see some of the guests going in. Maybe my phone can recognize them?” She awkwardly zoomed in and snapped a picture. “Maurice Gibbons, owner of… child sweatshops in three countries? What the heck?” Chris rubbed his nose. “Well, if this is what it looks like, and they’re taking Oscar into a restaurant kitchen…” Sang Mi felt her whole body go cold. “We have to rescue him!” “We will. I promise. Who else do you see?” She snapped another picture, and waited a moment. “Search says… Janette Coolidge. Escaped conviction for poisoning two-thousand of her workers through unsafe practices that resulted in cancer … are all of them like this?” “Yeah,” Chris said. “That’s the clientele here. Beasts, all of them.” Sang Mi nodded. “So how do we want to play this, I mean we can’t just walk in?” “Oh, we can just walk in, just not through the front. There was a convenience store down the road, right?” Sang Mi’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I get you.” * * * Manuel wiped his hands off and went to the back door where the knocking had not let up. He swung it open. “Yeah?” There was a tall white man and an Asian teenage girl there, each carrying cases of cheap Seven Veils Beer stacked on each other. “Where should we put it?” asked the man. “We weren’t expecting any delivery?” The man sighed. “Look I can show you the order on my phone, it’s not my problem what you do with it.” Manuel hesitated, and then heard Mr. Mitchell yell for him to get back to prepping the salads. Whatever, he wasn’t being paid enough to figure this out. “Whatever, look, just uh, put ‘em in the storage room, it’s down the hall to the left, says storage room on the door.” “Right, got it,” he put his foot in the door to keep it open. “Come on then,” he said to the girl, who shuffled along behind him. Manuel went back to the kitchen, and got back to salad prep, trying to ignore the giant turtle in the middle of the room. Nina nudged him. “Hey, uh, do you know what’s up with the turtle? They’re not usually that big, right?” The turtle looked at them through the cage, the muzzle around its mouth straining for a moment as if it wanted to answer. “Just ignore it, that’s part of the job.” “What if it’s like, endangered? Won’t we get in trouble?” He went over and grabbed another bag of lettuce, “We’re already in trouble or we wouldn’t be working here.” “But—” “HEY,” the other white man, the balding one in the tuxedo at the back, yelled from his folding chair. “Could you keep it down, I’m trying to get ready back here.” They shut up and worked in silence. “God, seven billionaires in the audience and they can’t even give me a goddamn green room…” He leaned back, shaking his head. “Hey, sweet cheeks, yeah, you, by the ugly guy. Why don’t you come back here and gimme a kiss?” Nina ignored him. “I’m talking to you sweetheart. I was on the billboard charts, you know.” He patted his lap. “Come on, take a break.” Nina’s lip was trembling. Manuel tried to decide what he should do. How bad did he want this job? He knew that hesitating here made him a coward. But he’d been through worse. “HEY. You can’t talk to her that way!” the girl who’d come in earlier said, storming up to Mr. Tuxedo. He stood up. “Who the hell are you?” She poked him in the chest. “I’m the person telling you to leave her alone.” He scowled. “I’m getting Gerry—you’re all going to be fired; you don’t get to disrespect me like this.” He threw his arms out. “I was on the Billboard charts! Who do you think you are!?” “You can’t talk to her that way!” the blond man said as he stormed out from the back.” “People keep saying that but I sure can, I can say whatever I want.” “I have no idea who you are,” the girl said, blandly. He moved to shove her, and the blond man instinctively clocked him in the jaw. He tumbled over and hit the tiled floor. All work stopped. All eyes turned to the scene. “Uhhh,” the girl said. Manuel rushed to the man, checking his pulse. He was out cold, but he’d be fine. He looked up at the pair of interlopers from where he was squatted over the now unconscious MC. “What the hell are we supposed to do, he’s supposed to go out there in five minutes introducing the main dish.” He pointed at the turtle. “There’s Oscar!” the girl said. “Well, that’s a mystery solved.” “Main dish isn’t good,” the blond man mumbled. Manuel looked around, “Anyone ever been on stage? Know how to sing?” The girl looked at the man, who shrugged, and she turned back to him unsure. “I’ve done standup comedy—oh, and I was in a TV show once, but that’s…” “Good enough. Nina, get her into one of the tuxes in the back.” “But—” the girl and man said in unison. “NO BUTS, you’re on as soon as you’re dressed.” He picked the script up off the floor and shoved it into her hands. “Get reading.” * * * Sang Mi stumbled out, then forced herself into a faux-confident stride. The tux didn’t fit, but it had been pinned so that it looked like it was hand tailored. That didn’t make it comfortable. She’d barely had time to look at the script, so she’d be winging most of this. She looked at Oscar, who looked back at her with what she was probably projecting was a sad hope. “Don’t worry lil guy, we’ll get you out of here,” she whispered to him, before raising her microphone, and as the band started to play strode up to the microphone smiling and waving like she was supposed to be there. “How are we doing tonight?” There was applause. People always applauded when you asked that, like clapping was words. “Wonderful, wonderful. Great to be here in beautiful Churubusco Indiana. Uh,” she pulled the microphone off the stand, and wandered around the front, gesturing finally at a group of men at a table. “And where are you folks visiting from this evening?” “Florida!” one yelled. “Idaho!” another chimed in. “I’m from here…” a third said meekly. She shrugged. “Wow, travelled a long way.” That got a laugh, somehow. “So, what do you boys do?” “We’re uh, E.D.E.M agents,” one said. “Well, I knew that,” she said, as convincingly as she could manage under the circumstances. “Have any hobbies?” “Uhhh…” She moved on. “And I hear we have some very special guests this evening!” She scanned the room looking for the people who thought they were special. “Ah, there we go, round of applause please! We’re so honored you’re here!” Whoever you are! A man and woman, the man with the air of a politician, stood up and waved, and a group of other men at a table stood but didn’t wave and looked a little more awkward about the whole thing. “Lovely, lovely. I’m your host tonight, Sang Mi Jhe. You might know me from uh… stuff.” She was running out of steam and so was relieved when a voice came in over the intercom. “Everyone rise for the singing of the national anthem.” “Oh, thank god,” she mumbled, and started right in. “Glory to Gongen, you shall live forever your people who love you will stand by your side to live and to serve you, to fight and defend you, through war and through peace we will stand tall with pride! Forever live Shocho! Long live the Gongen people! We’ll beat the Earthers back once and for all From Phobos to Deimos shining bright to Olympus Mons at its proud height Gongen forever, we fight for you!” Everyone expected her to stop, like it was a gag, but she was getting really into it and barreled right into the next verse. * * * They shoved Sang Mi out on stage, and as soon as he’d waved her off and given her a double thumbs up as she and Oscar, now laying tied to a giant silver platter, disappeared past the curtain, Chris pushed past the staff, opening door after door. “Hey, you can’t do that!” Manuel said, tailing him. He shoved another door open. “Looks like I can.” “No, you don’t understand—” He tried the next door. It didn’t open. “Ah, there we go. That’s what I’m looking for.” He squatted down and inspected the lock. “You know, normally I’d just break this, but my friend there taught me a special technique, an original from the hacker Kalingkata.” He winked, and reached into his pocket and pulled out… a screwdriver. He then proceeded to unscrew the lock mechanism from the door. Manuel was so surprised he just stood there, blinking away. The door opened up, and from rows of cages and tanks, animals looked up at them—strange herd animals the color of red sand called Morning Star Cows—a singular detached llama foot that nonetheless turned to face them—blue animals called caffalumps, with too many legs, looking something like a camel mixed with an elephant—a singular timefish in a tank—a two-headed purple lizard with gills—even a beautiful half-humanoid being with long brown hair, wearing a sports-bra; its bottom half was made of a serpent’s tail and… a lot of dog heads? Then from the back, a woman called in a faintly French accent from where she was hanging upside down from the ceiling. “Hello there, might I bother you for a rescue? The blood is going to my head.” * * * There was faint confused applause after Sang Mi finished the entire Gongen National Anthem. A voice came over the intercom. “And now for uh… the actual national anthem?” Sang Mi mumbled a curse and pulled her phone out. She’d have to wing this one. To her credit, she hit most of the notes. * * * Chris rushed forward, and cut the woman down, then got to work severing her bonds. The half-woman half-monster creature watched closely from the cage next to them. Rubbing her wrists and ankles, the tied-up woman gave him a smile. “Thanks, who knew this one would go so sideways. You’re Cwej, right? I recognize the face from my training.” He startled, “You do?” With her hands now free, she pulled a badge from within her bosom. “Odette Caron, from C.R.O.I.X.—that is, C.R.U.X., in English.” It was such a bizarre occurrence he really had no reason to doubt it. “And why is someone from a French research institute studying alien lifeforms operating in Indiana?” She gestured at the animals, and the glowering half-woman. “We can’t have private individuals destroying live specimens just for their own, sick amusement. It’s immoral and it’s un-scientific. Besides, this is against international law—and interplanetary law as far as we know it. Aliens have threatened to wipe Earth out for less than this.” Well, she wasn’t wrong. “So, are they really… eating all these creatures?” She nodded, disgust washing over her face. “It’s barbarism, plain and simple. And E.D.E.M is running it, so no one stops them. When they decided they were going to eat Scylla, no one questioned whether we had to step in.” Chris looked over at the cage. The half dog-serpent woman waved, menacingly. “… The man-eating creature from the Odyssey? The one that attacked Odysseus and his men?” “The very same,” Scylla said. “Ah,” Chris concluded lamely. A voice called out from the doorway: “Monsters and aliens don’t have rights, and we can eat them if we want to.” He was a surprisingly young man for the authority he clearly carried, with an aura of haughtiness that seemed to radiate out from him, his hair in a lazy buzzcut, his suit expensive but badly tailored. Behind him stood a pair of armed guards in full tactical gear. Odette’s scowl deepened. “May I introduce Mark Ronaldson, the head of E.D.E.M.” “DIRECTOR Mark Ronaldson!!!” he screamed back, stomping his foot. “The President gave me a title! It’s my title! I’m important! Use it!” He pulled out his own gun, with its safety. Chris tried to put on his most diplomatic tone, holding up one hand peacefully. “Okay, no one has to die here, we can talk—” “Shut up!” Director Ronaldson screamed back. “None of you are walking out of here alive!” Chris sighed. He had wanted to end this in a way that he could brag to Charles about later, but well, necessity called. He pulled out the screwdriver. “No need for introductions. You should really buy better doors, these things really are embarrassingly cheap,” he sighed again, as he unscrewed the lock mechanism from the cage door. “Not that you’ll probably get a chance to use that advice.” Scylla pushed the door open, and gave an ear shattering scream as she launched herself at Mark Ronaldson, who didn’t need his introduction anymore as various bits of him splattered the wall. Odette quickly began opening the other cages—the caffalumps reared on their legs out of their cages and charged the wall. The sound of machine-gun fire briefly occurred, only to be silenced with the wet sound of meat being ripped by teeth. Chris and Odette shared a look of relief, and then a terrible thought struck Chris: Sang Mi was still on-stage. * * * “The Beast of Busco, what a wonderful creature. Sure would be a shame to eat it huh?” The audience looked back at her awkwardly. “Wow, tough crowd!” she said; a desperate attempt to recover that worked better than she expected as some people actually laughed. “We’re uh, waiting for our special guest to return before we send Oscar here back to the kitchen—” “JUST GET ON WITH IT!” the senator called from the back. “They have to butcher and cook the damn thing, he’ll be back by then.” The sound of screams and machine gun fire echoed from the back. “…All part of the show folks, all part of the show…” She edged back over to Oscar, and began to hastily start pulling off his restraints and muzzle. People began to rise from their seats, some beelining for the exit, some coming up towards the stage asking what was going on, to see a manager, or saying she’d never work in this town again, etc. Guards, some in suits, some in tactical gear, also were rushing forward. She ignored them, and focused on getting Oscar free. The last restraint came loose, and he gave a great bellow of freedom, as through the curtains a half-woman, half-serpent-and-dogs person came barreling through. Hugging Oscar’s side, she gave the monster-woman a thumbs up, and Oscar leaned into her protectively. The woman seemed to accept this, and moved on quickly—leaping from the stage into the audience, her many dog heads biting, her tail lashing, her eyes filled with rage. The guards lined up by the left wall raised their guns, only for the wall to collapse on top of them as great blue beasts charged in, stomping their way through the crowd. A strange, eyeless fish leapt from the gap; a woman caught hold of its tail, only to turn into a baby, and then an old woman, and finally a skeleton. Something that looked like a llama foot flew out and went for a man’s jugular. Still more creatures followed. But Sang Mi had stopped looking, and focused on guiding Oscar off stage. “We uh… well, don’t worry about all that, big guy. Let’s get you home.” He gave an affirmative bass noise. As they pushed through the curtains, through the small backstage, and back into the kitchen, she saw a relieved Chris who was already running towards her. “We’re okay!” she said. “Granted, a lot of people are not okay, but me and Oscar are!” “That’s all that matters,” Chris said. Then paused. “Don’t tell Charles I said that.” Sang Mi gave a thumbs up, and they both looked at Odette. “Who is she?” “Odette Caron. She’s like… from the French SIGNET, if that makes sense.” “Sorta,” Sang Mi replied. “Hello there! And don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine with letting Scylla do her thing,” Odette said, mimicking Sang Mi’s thumbs up. Chris awkwardly also gave a thumbs up, all three of them in the same pose as they stood in silence while horrific noises came from the room beyond. “E-excuse me,” Manuel said, poking his head out from where the kitchen staff had apparently been hiding behind an overturned steel table. “Are we, uh…” “On the menu? Nah,” Chris tried to casually wave the concerns out of the air. “What should we do, the owner was out there in the crowd…” Odette smiled, which was a little awkward with the background noise. “Don’t worry, we’ll get things cleaned up, you won’t have anything pinned on you. Oh, they’re probably worried about their jobs!” “Are they?” Sang Mi asked quietly. “We’ll make sure one of you gets the deed transferred to you. Any volunteers?” Manuel bit his lip for a moment. “It should be Nina.” Everyone else seemed to agree with that. “Great! Well once things get settled down, we’ll iron this all out.” Chris and Sang Mi raised their thumbs up again, and everyone settled in. * * * “E.D.E.M is getting an entirely new leadership, as it appears the director and every department head have resigned to spend more time with their families. None of them could be reached for comment, despite repeated attempts by our reporting staff. Concerns that this new leadership were even less experienced than the last set were quashed by officials, who said everything is fine and to not ask questions. Senator Griffith described their resignation as a tragedy, but refused to explain why his arm was in a cast, nor why spending more time with their families was tragic. “In other news, the return of missing students in Violetthill Illinois—” Manuel turned the radio off. “Enough of that. Who is on the grill?” “Sorry!” Maria rushed back over to it. He shook his head. “We have to get things ready for the investor today, Nina won’t like it if—” “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that, your funding is secure.” All eyes turned to the woman speaking, who had entered in through the back. He thought they’d fixed the locks; oh well. She was dressed head to toe in black, with a veil covering her face. In one hand she held a gold birdcage that was covered by a burgundy cloth. She was flanked by a pair of bodyguards in suits and sunglasses. She extended a hand, “Sal H., your new investor.” He shook it. “A pleasure, if you’ll—” “Like I said, your funding is secure. On the condition you tell me all about the visit Chris Cwej and Sang Mi paid here. I have a lot of questions.” He swallowed—something about her gave him the creeps. But he’d do it for Nina. * * * The three of them, Odette, Sang Mi, and Chris, sat in the rowboat watching Oscar paddle around. “A beautiful creature. You did a good thing rescuing him—and rescuing me, for the record,” Odette said. “Why are you here, anyway; you didn’t seem to know I’d be here?” “Oh, we’re…” Chris fumbled around for a moment, and then decided being honest was better than the awkward silence. “We’re going to an auction. It’s in the Blue Ridge Mountains.” Odette’s eyes lit up. “Ah, we at the Conservatoire have heard of it. It’s famous, and exclusive. You’re lucky to attend.” Sang Mi looked down into the water, her face solemn. “Isn’t it kind of odd? We get a letter from Salome, she sends us on a road trip, and we start running into creatures and monsters and people from organizations with acronyms for names? And we even ran into someone from the Odyssey after we named our car that! Isn’t that all just… too co-incidental?” Chris had considered this, but had written it off as needless worry. “We’re just trying to spend as much time together as we can before I have to send you back. I don’t think there’s anything more to all this.” Sang Mi nodded, but he could tell she didn’t believe him. “Oh, look!” Odette called. He turned to see Oscar diving under the water, and then leaping out from it, high into the air in a joyous burst, before splashing back down. “Well, whatever, even if it was messy we saved the day,” Sang Mi said. “Sure did,” Chris replied. And he meant it. They stayed there till the sun set, and then parted ways with Odette. The road awaited them, and who knew what they’d see next. Next Stop: |
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