Mystic Moon She Had Know Idea
He said that Scar was probably off on some road trip. The cops suspect all sorts of trouble out there, most of it the product of their overactive imaginations. The Cosmos Corporation has been controlled by the Mad Scientist this entire time, so now that the Mad Scientist has effectively died, who knows what will happen to the Cosmos Corporation.
Though he'd called before bed every night since he'd been gone, I missed the scent of his woodsy aftershave and the feel of his arms curling around me as we fell asleep. Not quite fourteen, Randa was already studying up on colleges, intent on finding the best astronomy department in the nation. Satisfied with the display, I surveyed the entire shop. If Jimbo was right about his friend, then Scar wouldn't have up and taken off without letting somebody know. The Mad Scientist never let anyone know about his progress on the plan, so we have no idea where he was up to.
Anyway, so you see, Scar wouldn't leave Traci, and he sure as hell wouldn't run off without his new Harley. And as he'd said, I owed him one. He lives in the biker enclave out in Klickavail Valley, and he's been missing for a week. And apparently, I was the only one he could talk to about the paranormal without being labeled a wacko.
Before today, they never thought that their peaceful earth would be in such horrifying danger. As I gathered my keys and purse, my mind lingered over Jimbo's call. Even if there were machine guns aimed at her, they would not be able to harm a single hair on her head. Didn't sound drunk, either, so that eliminated any practical jokes he might come up with after a long night at Reubens.
Yep, it was eight in the morning, all right. You said you think something's prowling in the woods out there. They're not gonna help any more than they're forced to. You know the cops aren't going to do anything about a missing biker, and his old lady's really upset. Yep, his boot was mighty big, at that.
Over the past few months, Jimbo and I'd had several talks about his grandma, who practiced some sort of folk magic down in the bayous of Louisiana. Clyde-he runs the joint-was the last person who talked to him. You can see these things better than me.
She's pregnant and they're happy as a pair of lovebugs. The faint essence of cinnamon lingered in the air from the incense I'd burned earlier, a subtle but perfect invitation to stock up on harvest supplies. Jimbo didn't sound like he was joking. Like clockwork, she scheduled a tarot reading during the last weekend of each month. He sighed, then jammed on his helmet and pulled on a pair of leather gloves.
She shook her head, but looked relieved. Nobody's seen him for a week. Since my mother had worked in my father's business, I'd learned most of my skills from my Nanna, too, though I'd never once had to face skinning a possum. Thinking of the terrifying plan that the Mad Scientist had been carrying out and was about to complete, they could help but feel incredibly shocked.
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