“Betty White? That woman was a national fucking treasure! This guy is going down,” Josie said, starting to get to her feet.
“Uh, guys. He’s drunk. I think we should retreat while we still have eyebrows,” Riley whispered, grabbing Josie’s wrist and yanking her back down. A twig snapped under her combat boot, and they froze.
“Who’s there?” Lance slurred, stalking crookedly toward them, his flamethrower hose at the ready.
Riley slapped a hand over Josie’s mouth and dragged her to the ground.
Together the three of them lay in the dark in the mulch and held their breaths.
She really missed her spirit guides. They would have at least warned her to wear flame-retardant clothing.
“You better run because if I find you, I’ll torch you,” Lance said in a creepy singsong voice usually reserved for terrifying movie murderers. He burped again.
Josie let out a low growl. Riley pinched her.
Lance stomped into the flower bed, crushing plants. “Come out and pla—aaaaaaaaaagh!”
His high-pitched squeal and frantic thrashing had Riley jumping into action. She grabbed her friends and started crawling along the fence toward the street.
“What the hell was that?” Jasmine asked.
“I fucking hate spiders!” Lance howled at the top of his lungs. Flames exploded behind them as the kid fired his flamethrower at the landscaping.
“I believe our friendly neighborhood bully just walked into a spider web,” Riley said as they got to their feet and jogged the rest of the way down the driveway.
“We’re not just gonna go, are we?” Jasmine said, stopping Riley with a hand on her arm when they got to the sidewalk.
“We almost turned into well-done lady steaks back there,” Riley reminded her.
“That kid is a menace to society. We can’t just let him flame broil his way through life,” Josie insisted.
Riley pointed toward the backyard, where Lance was still howling and setting things on fire. “What do you want us to do? He’s off his rocker.”
“I have an idea,” Josie said.
Riley was already shaking her head. “Unless it involves calling the cops and going home, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Psst!”
All three of them jumped. Riley slapped a hand over her heart, then noticed that Josie had a knife in one hand and a can of pepper spray in the other. Jasmine was inexplicably holding a shoe in an attack position.
“Over here,” the disembodied voice called from the neighboring yard.
Josie led the way, weapons at the ready.
Illuminated by solar landscaping lights, they found a large, bearded man clutching a trembling Yorkie in a pink sweater. Spying the knife, pepper spray, and shoe, he hugged the dog tighter. “Please don’t kill me and Princess.”
“We were just out for a walk,” Riley lied. “Nobody is killing anybody. Put the knife down, Josie.”
“What’s your name, address, and business here?” Josie snapped at the man.
“I-I’m Jim. I live here. I’m out so Princess can do her business. She won’t go in the backyard anymore since that flamethrowing future serial killer moved in next door.”
“Forget you ever saw us, Jim and Princess,” Jasmine advised, putting her shoe back on.
Lance let out a maniacal laugh that echoed eerily in the night air.
Jim’s shoulders slumped. “I was really hoping you guys were SWAT or murder ninjas or something.”
