As Jioni slowed her run to a jog, several distinct sounds bounce off the brick walls: Squeaks, footsteps, and shuffles—none seemed natural. Something different from the typical empty silence. Jioni didn’t turn around. Whatever made those dreaded noises ahead couldn’t be worse than confronting LaMesha again.
Jioni got closer—the sound got louder. In time, she could put an image to the noise; Something not scary but inconvenient: Mac, a Junior Agent. A lance was clutched in his right hand. Not a homemade one, a new one. Then there was some kind of animal that shrieked and pierced Jioni’s ears; she covered them with the tips of her fingers. Jioni soon put the pieces together. Her now careful stroll became a fast jog. She called out to Mac with impatience.
