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waited outside while Trey got his own gear.  Trey had a crossbow which his dad had found years ago.  It fired smaller arrows than my recurve, but they were just as deadly.  The hardest part was finding them if Trey missed.
    I had a full quiver, having spent several hours over the last two days making more arrows.  It was easy to feel confident with a full arsenal, and I guess we weren’t taking things too seriously as we walked down the road.  We wanted to take the St. Andrews entrance since it was easier to slip through than the other areas.
    As we passed the house in the small valley, I slowed and carefully inspected the dark windows.  Trey slowed with me, and we moved past purposefully and deliberately.
    “Man, that place gives me the creeps,” Trey said.  “Wonder if the stories are true.”
    I shook my head.  “Someone lives there still.  I saw them.”
    Trey stopped in his tracks to stare at me.  I looked at him for a minute, then told him the story of how I went to the Simpson’s, and then worked my way back around the house.  I even told him the part about the arrow I fired and then finding it in my yard.
    I don’t know what I expected, but the last thing I thought Trey would do on hearing my story was to laugh at me.  I waited until he calmed himself then asked him what the hell was so funny.
    “Oh, I wish I could have seen it!  Oh, baby, I wish I could have seen your face!”  Trey just laughed some more.
    “All right, I’ll ask.  Why?” I was getting irritated at this point and wanted to thump him on the head.
    Trey straightened and looked me dead in the eye.  “I put that arrow in your yard, you dope.  I found it at my house and used my bow to launch it over to your place.  The one you shot at the creepy house is probably still stuck in there somewhere.”
    Well, what the hey? I was stuck between being relieved and being sore.  I settled on disturbed.
    “What are you thinking, shooting arrows at my house?  I ought to pound you”  I snarled at Trey, not really meaning it, but trying to save some of my dignity.
    Trey giggled as he held up his hands.  “Oh, sure.  I’ll never do it again, never, never, never.”

Chapter 6
     
     
    I was about to retort when we crossed the Highland Road junction.  Ordinarily we just walk, but then Lucy Simpson isn’t running like crazy towards us.
    “Trey!  Josh!  Help!  There’s two of them at my house!  They’re trying to get in!”  Lucy was breathless from running, so it took a minute to get the story out.  She was in the garden when two Trippers showed up, stumbling through the back lots and bouncing round the abandoned swimming pools.  Lucy saw them in time and hid in the corn stalks, waiting for them to go by.  As luck would have it, her brother chose that moment to open the back door and yell out for Lucy to hurry up.  He barely got the door closed in time.  Lucy waited for them to be distracted, then bolted.
    Trey asked the obvious question.  “Where’s your weapon?”
    Lucy pouted.  “It was in the house.  I was twenty yards from my door.”
    Trey shook his head.  “There’s only one at your house, by the way.”
    “What?  No, there’s two.”  Lucy argued.
    I stepped in.  “No, he’s right.  There’s only one.  The other one followed you here.”
    Lucy spun around and seemed to shrink into herself as she saw the Tripper stumbling towards us.  It was having a hard time since the terrain was uneven, but it was coming, no doubt about it.  Trippers travel in a straight line to whatever they are chasing.  They don’t deviate at all.  They’ll turn, but they won’t pay attention to the terrain.  Lots of them have fallen down stairs that way.
    The Tripper fell into a ditch and then climbed out, its eyes fixated on us.  Its mouth moved in silent rage as it worked through its diseased brain how to dismember us. It was a young woman, probably in her twenties by the look of her.  She didn’t seem to