A feast of otherworldly cookout had Uncle Jed and the others stuffed to the gills. Even Dot was sprawled out, patting her little belly, a half-empty bottle of peach juice clutched tightly in her arms.
Uncle Jed, meanwhile, had once again succumbed to his paranoia. He kept muttering to Ethan, his voice a low, insistent drone.
"Something's not right…"
Ethan simply rolled his eyes. He began to perform the technique Uncle Jed had taught him the day before. With each motion, tiny silver specks of light shimmered within the fascia and muscles all over his body.
Suddenly, Uncle Jed's roar cut through the air.
"Nora, Ethan… run!"
Ethan, who hadn't even finished what he was doing, jolted upright. He spun around, his Soul Sense sweeping outward in every direction. Within a five-kilometer radius, nothing seemed out of place.
But Uncle Jed had already burst out of the tent, Dot cradled in his arms. Nora followed, scrambling after him.
"What are you waiting for? Pack up and run!"
