August 4, 2013
The letter looked amazingly official. It came in a long, white envelope from the county clerk's office in Ann Arbor. His aunt had died, the one who used to take all the kids to the lake house she rented in Minnesota during the summer. The letter attached was short but sweet.
Dear Eric,
I know I haven't seen you in a very long time, but I've been thinking of you. There aren't many of us left anymore. I hope that you'll accept what I can give and remember me fondly. Take care of yourself. You were always meant to do great things. I'm just sad that I won't be able to see them.
Love,
Auntie Candy
Eric filed the letter away. The official envelope had included a deed of ownership. There were some papers to sign, but it seemed that he now owned a little house in Sellwood. He'd already called Madeline at her university an hour south in Salem and told her that he intended to use it for the other Hunters. It was time to start over. They'd both gone back to their lives. He had to think about his kids, and she was back in school, but there was a lot more that they needed to consider than just their mundane existences. Whatever had taken down their group was still in Eugene.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Felix. "Meyers, I think it's time we put together a little meet and greet. You know a couple of people, right? Let's say next weekend? My wife has the kids. Grab a pen, and I'll give you the address. I've got a surprise."