Tara Bryn’s phone clicked as she angled it toward the sunny woods of Arcadia oaks. She’d been taking photos of the suburban town all morning and now she’d found herself at a canal bridge whose curve echoed those of the water ring ring bridges. The only mar in the pictures was an unsightly pile of rubble. Apparently either part of the bridge fell, some gravel truck lost some of it’s load, or someone lost an art piece to the canal floor. Either way, the redhead figured she could edit out later.
“Oh man, this would be an amazing for a bridge scene!” she squeaked and was just about to take a final picture when—
“Tara Bryn.”
The young writer yelped, almost dropping her phone as she brought it down to see what had called her. “Who’s there!?” she demanded before adding fiercely, “you show yourself or I’m calling the cops!”
Unclipping her swiss army knife from her black phannypack, Tara flicked out it’s tiny knife and held it and her phone at the ready. Oh, how she wished she’d should’ve brought the flashlight baton given to her by her stepdad. A good clubbing would show any mugger she wasn’t some cheap chick to be dealing with, and a recorded video would make sure her family could prosecute anyone she caught on it who meant her harm.
However, as she flicked her phone’s flashlight hither and thither to see if anyone was hiding behind the bridge pillars, the ghostly voice once again called out.
“Tara Bryn.”
All eyes and lens focused on the pile of rubble. Was someone pranking her? Had her cousins somehow found out where she was staying for the night and set this up?
‘No way,’ she thought, shaking her head, ‘This place isn’t even near the coast, let alone Oakland. There’s gotta be something else going on.’
‘Something like ghosts?’ nudged a little thought in the back of her head. Shadows of the past threatened to force their way up but she shook herself and knelt down by the pile of stones. She didn’t need to be thinking about that. Instead, she cautiously began digging through the rubble to see just how far whoever set this up would go for a prank.
What she found wasn’t a Walk-the-Prank walkie-talie but the most amazing amulet she’d ever seen. Eyes wide and shoulders relaxing, Tara Bryn folded the blade of her keychain multitool, clipped it back onto her belt and picked up the silver piece of art. It’s crystal shone like sapphire or a blue opal, gently glinting beneath the ornate silver clockwork.
“Oh my gosh,” she breathed, running her hand over it’s smooth faceted surface. “Oh man, this is beautiful!” Her heart almost fluttered holding such a piece. This was definitely not a prank or a dump pile. Noone she knew would ever throw away a treasure like this.
Without a second thought, the young woman grabbed her phone and took pictures of the amulet, flicking over her screen to the discord server she and her family shared.
“You guys won’t believe what I just found,” she wrote and went to send the picture when something clacked somewhere across the canal. Alarmed, the young woman stood up, clutching her phone and the amulet close.
It sounded like the clackhad come from one of the drain pipes. The grate bars were too small for a person to hide in. A rat or raccoon maybe? Cautiously, the redhaired approached the grate and nearly jumped out of her skin when her phone alarm rang throughout the canal. But as she looked to turn it off and see what it was for, panic bolted through her.
Get to the Pitch Meeting!!
“Oh no, I’m gonna be late!” She shrieked and raced to climb out of the canal. “My one chance to pitch a show and I miss it over a pile of busted rocks!”
With that, she clambered into her little blue car, unaware of the six eyes that followed her.
