Twenty-Five“Cover that front door up, will you?” Vance said, pointing to the scorched hole the Rough creature had left. “Make sure it's secure.”
Moving in a crouch, Paul and Angela set about it while Vance returned to the stage. He collected a tarp from the back and threw it over Hilda's remains, then disappeared into the wing. A chorus of slams and bangs followed as he located a tool box and dumped its contents. He reappeared displaying the empty box. “It's what everyone is carrying their meteorites in nowadays.”
Vance set the box down and, returning to the theater floor, pulled another item from his back pocket. “Found something else up there,” he said, displaying the prize. It was a hip flask.
“Another one?” Paul asked in amazement.
“Good ol' Arthur,” Angela said. “Every day was Eas
