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Ensign Pillsbury: He's bread Jim!

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Clouds glide silently over the full moon as you make your way across the field. A dog's bark echoes in the night; shadows shift as the shadow creatures creep stealthily toward their prey.

This is The Night. For what seems like years now, you've been trying to weasel an invitation to join Shadow Flight, a mysterious but very "in" club among the kids at your school. No one really knows the membership list, at least not for sure. But most of your friends believe that Billy Jackson and Kim Wesley are in. And it was your efforts to impress them that finally resulted in the "Flight Orders".

The "Flight Orders" were just a small yellow scrap of paper which was now stuffed in your back pocket. You found it today in your lunch box, although you have no idea how it got there. It simply says:

"Flight Orders

"Meet us at Gibson Creek, under the big fallen log, tonight at seven. Bring nothing but these orders.

"Shadow Flight"

After telling your parents that you would be spending the night with friends (which was true, if you squint a little), you headed for the creek. Now you hear water sighing as it flows over its pebbly bed; a tree moans darkly as its limbs shift in the mournful breeze. With your heart pounding, you reach the edge of the field and look down into the ravine carved over the centuries by Gibson Creek's persistance. The ravine is pitch black in the shadow of the tree; you can see nothing.

Climb down into the dark ravine.

Wait at the top of the ravine for Shadow Flight.