Simon and Alison began to walk back to the house. She could not believe the damage the storm had caused, and the fact that it was the spirit inside her that could have caused it. She knew that she needed help from the union. Simon may have calmed the spirit for the time being, but the strength of it was much fiercer than anticipated.
She went inside her house and found the address that her mother had given her, and ran back to Simon, who stood in the street waiting for her.
“I have no idea where Summer Hill Crescent is,” Alison sighed when she handed the small piece of paper to Simon.
“We’ll find it. It has to be around here somewhere. It’s a bit hard looking for things with most the signs being blown up and damaged, though,” Simon groaned as he pointed at a street sign that was lying on the floor.
“We have to find it; I feel really awful trying to eat you,” Alison apologised.
“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. I should have been looking after you more, rather than hiding at the back of the settee,” Simon shrugged.
Alison looked at him.
“Did you?” she smiled wickedly.
“’Course I didn’t. But that storm was something; I’ve never heard or seen anything like that before, bit scary,” Simon remarked.
“I can’t believe how vile I was, I just feel so stupid. Look at what I’ve done. I hope no one finds out that I’ve done this, they may put me in jail, or something,” Alison groaned as she began looking around the streets at the damaged property and vehicles, and the mass of people who had now ventured out of their homes to examine the damage.
“You could pay them out of your pocket money, for the damage you’ve done,” Simon suggested.
“That would take hundreds of years for it to be paid off. Mum only pays me when she remembers,” Alison sighed.
“I’m sure Foster and her cronies will sort something out. Maybe they have a time machine and we can all go back in time before anyone notices.”
“I don’t think they have one. Not a bad idea though,” Alison smiled.
They walked around the village, looking at street signs and hoping that each one was the sign they needed, but to no avail.
“We’re never going to find it,” Alison groaned.
“It had got a phone number on the note, you should’ve called her and asked for directions,” Simon stated, as he groaned at yet another street name that lay on the ground.
“Yes, but I’m not phoning her. I can’t stand the old bag, never mind chatting sweetly on the phone to her,” Alison complained.
“Well, it would’ve been better than us walking around aimlessly looking for her, wouldn’t it?” Simon suggested.
“Suppose so,” Alison muttered.
Just then, a black van pulled up next to them. Simon pulled Alison away from the curb, unsure of whom the occupants were as the window rolled down to reveal three strange looking men.
The driver was stocky built and had a green Mohican hairstyle with earrings that went all the way up his right side of his ear. The thin looking man, who sat in the middle, had bleached hair with pink highlights on the tips of...