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Emma and the Minotaur


12 Invasion
Saturday. 9:00 AM.
Phillip Matthews, Mayor of Saint Martin, was sitting on one of the outdoor tables outside Marcy’s
Cafe. The coffee shop was located on Main Street. At that time of morning, there was little traffic on
the street.
The mayor was reading the newspaper and sipping on a cup of black coffee. The weather had
turned and the morning was cool. He wore a long scarf over his business suit.
A black car pulled up in front of the cafe and from it emerged the man that Phillip had been waiting
“Morning,” he said as he approached the mayor’s table. Doug Peterson, Saint Martin’s Chief of
Police, was in his uniform. He was a severe, gray-haired man whose nose looked like it had been
broken many times in the past.
“Good morning, Doug,” Phillip said. “Have a seat and please tell me why we’re here.”
“I think we have a crisis in our hands,” Chief Peterson said. “I have a plan and I have people ready
to do something about it. All I need is the go-ahead from you.”
“You’re talking about the missing people,” said the mayor.
Doug Peterson nodded. A young waitress came by the table and refilled the mayor’s coffee. Doug
asked for a tea.
“There are more reports every day,” he said. “We’ve been doing our best to keep it quiet but you
know how things get out. People are especially suspicious now that the construction site is closed.”
Phillip took a long pull from his coffee and looked out onto the street. Saint Martin had always
been a quiet town for the most part, except maybe near the university. But even there it was always
harmless. Mostly just kids being kids.
“You’ve heard these rumours about monsters, of course?”
“Of course,” Doug said. “That’s just people giving a face to their fear.”
“What do we think is actually happening, Doug?”
“Gangs, maybe. Or some psychos holed up in the forest. Cannibals. Maybe they come out to hunt
for food.”
Phillip chuckled. “You know Ottawa is going to want in on this as soon as they get word of it?”
Doug Peterson nodded. “With this plan, it’ll be over and done with before they can muck
everything up.”
“We don’t want them interfering with our town.”
“Of course not.”
Phillip motioned for the waitress to come over. “I’m going to get something to eat, Doug. You want
anything?”
The Chief of Police shook his head. Phillip ordered Marcy’s specialty: a cinnamon waffle with
whipped cream and a cherry on top.
“Thanks, Marianne,” he said to the serving girl.
When she had gone, he turned back to Doug Peterson. “So, Doug,” he said. “Indulge me for a
moment. What if there really are monsters in that forest?”
“Cannibals, monsters, whatever they are,” Doug said. “They’re no match for a hundred men with
guns.”
10:30 AM.
Lucy Leroux was wandering around the Penhurst Mall. She planned to visit the Wilkins residence
for.
 
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