The History of CG (And How It Nearly Closed)

Part 3

Moon had hardly made it 100 feet when she saw a swarm of teenagers charging down the sidewalk, cheering. She crossed the street, dove into that neighbor's bushes, and peered through the branches. They all stopped in unison in front of her house and paraded up the driveway, pounding on the door. 

"FBI, OPEN UP!" yelled one guy, feigning a deep voice.

Moon's father opened the door, eyebrows knotted with concern, and the fans immediately pushed their way inside, trampling him underfoot. They swept the house in a methodical fashion, stealing the food that her mother was preparing as they went. Many of them stopped in Moon's bedroom to take selfies while jumping on her bed.

Moon was almost too terrified to breathe. She thought about making a run for it, but then, the fans reemerged from the house, shouting, "Come out, come out wherever you are!"

"At least I'm hidden here," Moon whispered to herself. "They'll leave eventually, I'm sure."

The mob huddled around in confusion, and seemed to be organizing search parties. But then, someone, probably Wikid, brought out a bottle with a white rag sticking out of it, and everyone cheered. Wikid summoned a match from her pocket and lit the rag on fire, and threw it through the window of one house adjacent to Moon's. A fireball curled through the living room, and a man in pajamas ran out, shrieking in terror.

The fans raised their fists in celebration, whooping and hollering. "COME OUT MOON! COME OUT MOON!"

Moon shuddered at their demanding words, watching the flames lick the shutters. How could they possibly have arrived so soon? It did not seem feasible that planes could have crossed the continental U.S. or the oceans in a matter of minutes. It occurred to her that Crazy had probably explained the dark arts to them, and that they had conjured an evil spirit to transport them. Now it all made sense.

Well, at least they had lit the wrong property on fire.

Wikid opened the duffel bag that was hanging on her shoulder and produced another bottle. "Don't worry, I came prepared! I brought 100 Molotov cocktails!"

The rest of the fans crowded around, and grabbed matches and cocktails from the bag. It was like Walmart on Black Friday, with people pushing and shoving each other in a wild frenzy. Molotov cocktails rained from the sky in all directions, fire spraying everywhere.

Moon crawled out of the bushes and dashed down the street. The fans pointed excitedly and whipped out their phones, taking a flurry of pictures. They gave chase, leaving a scene of utter destruction behind them.