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He should have brought bug spray.

Blood was in the air.

His blood, scenting his skin like fly paper.

The little lampreys latched on planting their

hives, another swam by his ear. Brain suckers. Or so Granny Max would say. They dodged his hand circling from one ear to the next and

around his nose, the next best guess. He thought he caught it, but then the bug changed course, near the thin lid of an eye.

Jake lands a useless path and the brain sucker retreats.

For now.

They must love you.

Yeah, well, I do not consent.

Can I have a go at the story I mean?

Really? You want to tell a spooky story?

Maya felt her chair decline.

For a moment, the embers rose an old dog ready to greet another face.

Unless someone else wants to?

No, please it's all yours.

Yes, come on Maya Maya. Tell a story.

Well, all right.

Like a baton, Jake still held the torch.

He was fighting another mosquito. This one was

...