chapter 58

It takes three random civilians before we find someone who can tell us where to find Crazy Harry.

The answer leads us to a small park on the outskirts of town. An old rusted swing set, a scorching metal slide, and a precarious-looking wooden seesaw sit just beyond the park sign. A small group of young evergreens huddle around a man-made pond, where a lone figure stands tossing bread on the ground. Two ducks and three squirrels dart around the sparse grass at his feet, snatching up pieces as soon as they hit the dirt.

We approach the old guy together. The three shifters flank me as if they’re afraid to let me get too close to Crazy Harry without them there to buffer. It’s another strangely possessive gesture that makes me feel like I don’t know what twilight zone I’m living in.

We stop a few feet to the old guy’s left, on the banks of the pond. He’s a grizzled old man with a giant nose covered in broken blood vessels and a beard that forms a point over his skinny, sunken chest. He’s we