Re: [A-Gunster-hunting we will go.]
Connie was in the corner of the lookout, playing video games. Her hair was shock white again, a phenomena she couldn't control nor did she have the means to investigate. Most of the time, she had managed to be mousy Connie. Brown hair, no interest in science, a light interest in things nerdy. But, once and a while she was just her old self. Someone she missed, someone she knew she was, someone she knew she couldn't be.
She liked the sound of the radio chatter, the small wave lengths spoke to her like whispers under a bed. She looked up when Patrick found his solution and smiled at him- just a smile no jack-o-lantern yet. Connie got to her feet and listened for the coordinates of the split fence. She nodded and lightly grabbed Patrick's arm.
From there it was a blur. Patrick could see the trees, the path, the darkness, the white room (ignore that one) and then they arrived. Her hand beneath that blue sweatshirt was skeletal and if she hadn't had purposely turned her face away from Patrick, he would have seen that was just a moon-white skull too. It took a second for everything to go back to normal. Okay, everything but the white hair.