It’s transfixing, watching his muscles move.
Behind you, Elena clears her throat from the other side of the door.
“Right, coming!” you call, hurrying after her.
Eli moves to follow, but Elena holds out her hand to stop him.
“You stay here, boy. Make sure that beast doesn’t try anything funny.”
“Me?” He asks, folding his arms. “You serious, Gram? My powers haven’t even awakened yet! What exactly do you expect me to do?”
His grandmother just shrugs. “I’m sure if it comes to that, you’ll figure something out.”
Poor Eli.
With a last glance back from Elena to her now-glowering grandson, you hurry after her down the hall and to the stairs.
She’s surprisingly fast for a woman of her age.
You practically have to jog to keep up.
Or maybe you’re just exceptionally worn-out.
You feel heavy.
Like there’s a lead weight holding you down.
Elena shuts the door after you, giving you an appraising look as you step out into the yellow glow of her front porch light.
With a low chuckle, she says, “You look like you’ve awoken from the dead, dearie.”
“And I feel like it,” you say with a groan.
“You’re young. You’ll recover quick,” she says, starting down the steps.
It’s cool and clear out, a moonlit, high desert night under a star-speckled sky.
Cold enough to make you wish you had a jacket as you follow her down the creaking boardwalk along the dirt street.
It still feels like you’ve gone back in time. Like a horse-drawn wagon or a woman in a hoop skirt might pop out at any moment.
To add to the Old West vibe, there’s even a stray tumbleweed rustling in the breeze where it’s lodged itself against the side of a building.
Well, how about that.
Very Old West indeed.
If only Ziros were out here with you.
Maybe it was a bad idea to follow her.
You shiver as you glance down the darkened streets, lit only by the moon and a few glowing windows. Everyone else in town must already have gone to bed.
But the old woman just keeps walking.
What if this is a trap?
Would Ziros wake from his workout trance in time to save you?
