My daughter Lindsey, for whatever reason, has always had a fascination with the occult. This includes ghosts, witches, and to a lesser extent, vampires. This fascination has been there since she was very little, and it is not because we encouraged it.

The vaccine had promised a miracle. Our town, a closeknit tapestry of familiar faces and shared histories, had embraced it with a collective sigh of relief. For a brief, blissful moment, it seemed like we’d outsmarted this new and aggressive flu strain. The initial human trials had revealed no abnormalities, and none of the test subjects exhibited any of the symptoms now appearing in our town.

During my college years, I had the bright idea of recording books on cassette tapes. It was actually a good idea, and the timing was right since eight-track tapes were being replaced with cassettes. I pursued my dream by recording a number of books. I was helped in this venture by my best friend, Callahan.

We hadn’t been on the bus long when Mark suddenly jumped off without a word and frantically tried to push the door closed from the outside. I had the door lever and easily prevented him from trapping me inside. After struggling to shut the door, he turned and took off, running across the field and started scaling the outfield fence.