It was late by the time Vikki and his friend Inder left the forest and headed to their homes.
“Shall we take the short cut?”, Vikki asked as the skies darkened above them. Somewhere far off the cumulus clouds rumbled.
In the fading light, Inder looked into the eyes of his best friend, and nodded.
The two knew what that meant. They’d have to cross the abandoned airport, the one they’d heard was populated by ghosts.
The eighth grade students, though having seen an apparition ever in their short lives, had heard enough grandmother tales to ensure a chill run up their spine.
Vikki nodded his head.
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