In groups, they headed toward the foggy neighborhood and its promise of free candy. An uneven chorus of “Trick or treat!” sounded as Jenkins Street was invaded with miniature monsters and superheroes and ballerinas swinging plastic bags and plastic pumpkins. As the scouts ran from house to house, they cut through lawns, dodged bushes, and squeezed through hedges. On porches, they held open their bags to claim their sugary loot. The fog continued to thicken, but the scouts barely noticed. By eight o’clock, their bags were half full. As the four friends headed down Phlox Drive, a man ran up to them. Charlie Red. He stopped in front of the scouts. “Charlie?” Noah said. “What are you—” “We got a problem,” Charlie said. “What’s going on?” “This fog …” Charlie gestured with a sweep of an arm. “It’s all over the Clarksville Zoo. We’re worried DeGraff might use it to move on us.” The thought sent a wave of panic through Noah—and a splash of shame. The scouts had been running up and down the streets with nothing but candy on their minds.
