you can’t be afraid of what were tracking. This could be the one mission that really changes are careers as investigators.”
Desmond turned around and The Determinator started to smoke and whine. The glowing object sat on top of the contraption.
“Take a picture. Take a picture.”
Luther fumbled with the camera and before he could take a picture, the glowing light had stolen a piece of The Determinator. It flew off and they gave chase.
Luther trying to get the light to sit still aimed the camera wildly clicking fast and furious. He backed up and fell down a steep embankment.
“Desmond.”
Desmond ran over and peered over the side where Luther was hanging on to a branch.
“When are you going to stop goofing off?”
“Who says I’m goofing off?”
Desmond helped Luther up.
“You think I was goofing off, Desmond? Check these pictures out.”
He clicked the camera and started to pour through all the shots taken.
“Well, what do we have?”
“Lots of pictures of the trees and the sky.”
“I should have left you at home.”
“Come on, Desmond, you know we’ll get them.”
Desmond sighed. “At least we know they’re here.”
“Whatever that thing was it’s going to make us a million dollars.”
“Yeah, a million dollars.” Desmond turned the knobs on the Determinator and aimed it at the trees searching for any sign of the light but it was gone.
“We might as well make our way back to the truck and set up camp for the night.”
“Good idea.”
They trudged back and Luther munched on a berry.
“Want one?”
“They could be poisonous.”
“I can’t help myself. They’re delicious.”
“Tomorrow we’re going to get our pictures.”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
When they arrived at the truck, they packed their gear and a few minutes later were fast asleep.
2
It was late at night. The crickets wouldn’t shut up and somewhere a prairie dog or one of its relatives decided to howl at the pale moon. Desmond tossed and turned and finally sat up.
“I can’t sleep with all this racket going on. In the city, we only hear ambulances and sirens and people screaming. So Luther, want to play cards? I’ll give you a chance to win your money back.”
But Luther was gone.
Desmond got out of the makeshift bed and made his way outside. He grabbed a flashlight, a couple of flares and his walking stick.
He had made it a few feet up the path when Luther, running as fast as he could, flattened Desmond.
“Run, they’re after me.”
Desmond didn’t have time to recover before he looked up and saw a bevy of glowing lights buzz by. They were like a gang of angry bees on the warpath.
“Luther, get the camera.”
Desmond stood up and half of them attacked him. He did his best to fight off the ferocious glowing lights.
Luther rushed back to the truck and fumbled with the equipment. He left the hatch open and ran back with the camera. He tripped and fell and the apparatus flew out of his hands. He recovered it and kept on to help out his friend.
“Help me, Luther.”
The glowing lights hadn’t reduced their attack; in fact, they had increased their determination. Desmond tried his best to fend them off.
“Stay still, Desmond.”
The glowing lights stopped their attack on Desmond and turned to Luther. Before he knew what to do, they raced at him with the fury of a tidal wave.
Luther ran around in a giant circle screaming at the top of his lungs. Finally, he ran out of energy and collapsed. They buzzed around him and in a tight circle quicker and quicker as he coward into a ball.
Desmond recovered and fumbled for the camera. “This is great. If they turn out we’re going to be millionaires. Luther, you’re a genius.”
Suddenly, the glowing lights stopped in mid-stream and pointed their anger at Desmond again before he could take one picture. They raced around the bewildered photographer and knocked him on the ground. He clutched onto the camera and found himself in a tug of war.
“Luther, help me.”
Luther looked up and realized that the glowing lights were not after him anymore. He jumped up and ran over to his friend and grabbed onto the camera with both hands.
There was a tremendous tug of war. More glowing lights joined in the fight. Soon there were dozens of them flying toward the melee attacking both Luther and Desmond.
“Don’t let go, Luther.”
“Don’t worry about it, Desmond.”
They pulled with all of their strength, but the fairies outnumbered them and found a fountain of power that was truly scary. With one giant tug, they pulled the camera from the investigator’s clutches and sailed off with it.
“Get ‘em Luther.”
They jumped up and chased after the dangling camera, but the two city boys who were out of shape were no matches for the speedy flyers.
“Desmond, they’re going too fast.”
And then just like that they were gone.
Luther kept running, stumbled and fell down.
Desmond stopped and tried to catch his breath.
“They stole the camera.”
“They did. Now what?”
“We have to get that camera back.”
“Let’s go back to the truck and get some more equipment.”
“What about sleep?”
“Luther how can you think about sleep when we are on the threshold of a major discovery?”
“You’re
