Here is the continuation from Part 1 https://katechaplin.wordpress.com/2011/11/02/he-got-game-part-1/
“Spirit Snipers” I said.
On the way to work I glanced in a coffee shop window and saw today’s news talking about the surge in robberies in Vora and Noddnaba. People were claiming their most treasured items were being mysteriously stolen; retirement funds – gone, small business disappeared with only the concrete foundation left. Boat, planes all the toys of the rich and famous were gone. Nearly everyone had been robbed of something.
There was a sense of the End of Days. People were starting to cling closer to their belongings. There was a line around the bank for people trying to keep their valuables in safety deposit boxes. Others were taking things out of storage garages and burying them in their back yard. All over the city was chaos worse than the riots.
“What was stolen from you” a stern voice said as a microphone was shoved in my face.
It was Sharron Addison, a reporter from the evening news. Here platinum blond hair looked more like a plastic wig in real person than it did on TV.
“Nothing.” I said leaning into the microphone.
“Nothing?” she asked, trying to insult me. “Everyone lost something in last night’s attacks.”
“I saw the spirit sniper in my room and I guess I scared it off.”
“Spirit Sniper? Is that what they are called? Where did you get this information?”
“I read it on the wall”
Crap. I was in Vora City if I revealed I saw it in Noddaba I’d be arrested for trespassing. I had to think of something quickly. “The wall behind Segrims & Sabbath” I uttered with as much confidence as I could muster.
“And what did it say exactly?” Sharron pushed.
“Beware of the Spirit Snipers, trying to steal your light.”
Sharron motioned to her camera man to cut. “We’ve got what we need, let’s check out that wall.”
“Wait.” I said. “There is no message there today.”
“What do you mean?” Sharron asked this time with anger in her voice.
“Well, the message changes. Some days there is nothing written on the wall, like today. And others days the message changes.”
“And how do you know this for sure.”
“I work there.”
“Perfect, you can take us” said Sharron grabbing my arm.
Surely enough when we arrived there was no message written on the wall by my work. I assured her of my story and she and her camera crew left. What had I done?
I had to find a way to put messages on that wall, but how and what?