Oh man, I said, looking out the window of the SUV.

This isn't good.

What?

Landry said from the passenger seat, head swiveling on his skinny neck.

We'd just pulled into Willem's lot, a quaint New England town with a population of just over 10,000 people.

And already, I knew things weren't looking good. It was a hell

of a time to be training a new agent, especially one as wet behind the ears as Landry. At least we

were both inoculated. That was one thing to be thankful for in this cruel joke called life.

Look around, I told Landry. What looks off to you?

He was called Iqabad by many of the other foundation guys at Site 88 for Iqabod Crane.

He certainly was a bean pole, and he had a teacherly way about him, but not in the sense

that he seemed wise or professorial.

No, he seemed like the kind of teacher that would have had a hard time controlling a room

full of ten-year-olds.

After looking around for a few moments as I cruised the streets doing a steady 25, Landry spoke.

Looks like they're decorating for Halloween a little early.

A little early, I said.

It's August, Landry.

I'd call that really early.

Well, sure, maybe.

But the stores are putting that stuff out earlier and earlier every year.

And maybe they like Halloween a lot.

...