black out

The sky sparkled, although not much was going on on it. Stationary clouds gave no alarm for a storm. For most parts of Fridgeton, this was the kind of night perfect for cookouts.

Holly Creeks was anything but...holy. An out-of-town region on the eastern border, it was a ghostown having a head count of less than 50. It went without saying that not too many people paid it a visit. This, however, couldn't be said for a young man who zoomed out from the shadows.

He couldn't be more than 18, even with his five foot two-ish height. He stopped to catch his breach, his hands clapsed on his knees. His shoulders heaved, as he pushed out breath noisly. His dreadlocks swinging as he did.

Indeed jogging all the way from the subway to this place was an excerise reserved for the tough-hearted. It had been nothing less than twenty minutes.

When he must have gotten himself, he resumed—taking a stroll this time. There weren't much buildings here. Again, that didn't come as a surprise. Bushes, howev