Coal Creek
right next to a little stream called Coal Creek. Follow
that stream a ways, and you’ll see the mines. Should be
fine walkin’ around out there. Just don’t go in, whatever you do. You get them pitchers you need and get the
hell out of there, you hear?”
fan page might eat this kind of thing up, but she always thought the October ghost hunts were silly. She
wanted to be snapping pictures back in Atlanta or some
other place where we didn’t have to keep checking our
phones to make sure we still had a link to civilization.
We said we’d be fine, and I followed Sara through the
trees.
“Doubt it,” I said. I’d never seen anything on these trips
either, but time out of the city felt nice. Even if we
didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, our followers
would at least appreciate a picture of an open coal mine
with a history to it.
The afternoon was cool, but the October sun kept it
bearable. Both of us grunted and cursed our way
through the span of trees--probably about two hundred
feet across--but we fared better than we did on previous
nature excursions. At least Sara remembered to wear
boots this time. I looked over my shoulder and saw
Tony peering in after us, looking like a kid that didn’t
want to quite press his face against a window. I waved
at him, and he gave a cautious wave back. He seemed
less reserved back at the diner, but I guessed mention
of the missing kids he went to school with might have
shaken him up a little.
“Think there’s anything to this?” Sara asked. She
grinned, and I could hear the sarcasm in her voice. Our
INSIGHT
We pushed through the other edge of the trees and
stumbled into the clearing.
Sara quickly raised her camera and snapped a picture.
There were figures in the field, but not the glowing
phantasms Tony mentioned. “What are they?” Sara
asked. “Scarecrows?”
I guessed they might have been, but not of a variety I’d
ever seen. This open field was several acres, but I saw
nearly a dozen scarecrows--I couldn’t think of a better
name for them myself--before I stopped counting. They
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