Resurrecting Ravana by Ray Garton Page A

the sidewalk was empty, all the way up to the next streetlight and beyond. They were gone. Hiding in a yard? In a house? Buffy didn’t think so. She suspected they were truly gone.
    Jogging footsteps slapped on the wet sidewalk behind her, and she turned around to see Angel.
    “They weren’t real children,” she said. “Haven’t you ever seen them in the streets on Halloween? They yell a lot, to each other, to strangers. They spew profanity. They threaten to egg-bomb people’s houses. But they don’t walk around laughing all the time like they’re in a Kool-Aid commercial. The things we saw . . . they wanted us to think they were children.”
    “Why?”
    Buffy thought about it a moment. “Because they knew we’d be less likely to harm children,” she said. “Just like you were.”
    Angel shrugged as he looked around, searching for some sign of the small figures they’d seen.
    “C’mon,” Buffy said, walking. “There’s a gas station around the corner up here. I want to call Giles and tell him what happened. He’ll want to know.”
    At the gas station, Buffy entered the phone booth, fed some change to the telephone, and called Giles at home. She told him about the remains she’d seen through the laundry room window, and the laughing children.
    “You think the children did it?” Giles asked.
    “I know they did,” she replied. “They came from the house. Angel saw them. But they weren’t children. I mean, they looked like children, but they disappeared too fast and they were just . . . weird. All kids can be weird but these were just unnatural!”
    “Angel is there with you?”
    “Yes.”
    There was a noticeable pause on Giles’s end.
    “He’s helping me,” Buffy explained. “It’s like a vampire riot out here tonight. Something’s really stirred them up. I mean, they’re bolder than usual.”
    “Do you think it could have something to do with our problem?” Giles asked.
    “I don’t know. Maybe.”
    “All right. I will see if the presence of these odd children at the site of another killing will help turn up anything in my books. Good work, Buffy. And keep your eyes open. Anything you see could be the clue we need to find out what we’re dealing with. If anything else turns up, don’t hesitate to call me again. I’ll be up late.”
    “Late? What’s late to you? I mean, are we talking Conan O’Brien late, or are we talking that infomercial with the guy in all the ugly sweaters who gets excited by kitchen appliances late?”
    “Er, just anytime of the night or morning, Buffy. Anytime.”
    After Buffy hung up, she and Angel headed for the next cemetery. As they walked, they speculated on the origin and purpose of the children they’d seen, until they heard a car coming up behind them. Normally, Buffy would have paid no attention to it, but it was moving so slowly that it got her attention. She looked over her shoulder.
    A glimmering white limousine cut through the night like a shark through water. It was wet from the rain and beads of water sparkled on the tinted glass. As it passed them, it slowed down even more, nearly coming to a stop.
    She could see no one through the glass, but Buffy sensed eyes watching her closely from inside the car. After a long moment, it picked up a little speed and drove on, turning right at the next corner.
    Something about it bothered Buffy, but she didn’t let on. Instead, she muttered, “Well, there goes the neighborhood,” as she and Angel walked on.

Chapter 9
    W ILLOW WALKED TO SCHOOL UNDER A SKY THE COLOR of steel, a small collapsible umbrella in her bag just in case it started to rain again. She’d hoped to get a ride with Oz, but there’d been no answer at his house. Probably had band practice , she thought, and headed for the library first to see if there had been any news.
    The library was dark and felt empty. Willow turned on a couple of lights, letting the door swing closed behind her.
    “Giles? Buffy?” Her raised voice intruded on