The Lost Owl

"This is scary," said Nikita, shivering. "I think I should go home now. My mama said I was supposed to be back in fifteen minutes, and it's been longer than that. If my papa has to come looking for me, I'll be in trouble." She clutched her flashlight. The batteries were weak, but the sun was up enough to see the path. She flicked the flashlight off.
Jonathan glanced at the abandoned church; it crouched it the gloom across the road. In the gray light of early dawn, it was too dim for him to distinguish the crumbling remains of the whitewashed board walls from the landscape. High weeds grew all around the old church, and the untrimmed bushes stretched up toward the boarded-up windows. Water had poured down the walls from the tattered remains of the roof for years. It peeled the paint from the boards and left mildew in its wake. Jonathan was not able to see any of that, but knew it was there, and saw it in his mind. Jonathan was able to see, however, that the light was on at the rear of the church again.
"Hey," he said to Nikita. "Look! I think those robbers are back!" He gestured toward the old church.
Nikita looked at the dark building. "I don't see anything."
"There's a light at the very back." Jonathan pointed toward the rear. "That's where they must be."
"I don't see a light," she insisted. "Where is it?" She hopped up, trying to see over Jonathan's back.
"At the very back. The very last window, right there."
Nikita peered. She could not see anything but the dark church.
"Which end is the back?" she asked.
Jonathan did not answer her. "Here, hold Rooster," he said. Nikita reached out to take the lead from his hand, and felt the pull of the beagle as soon as she slipped the leather loop over her hand.
Rooster sensed a new, weaker hold on her leash, and stretched toward the cemetery. "I don't think I can hold her," Nikita said. "She's too strong for me."
"Just tell her to sit. Sometimes she listens to that." He was intent on the church, but kept his hand on the chain portion of the leash to be sure Nikita had Rooster under control.
"Rooster, sit," commanded Nikita. The dog dropped flat to the ground, wagged her tail, and looked up at the young girl.
"Is that how she sits?" Nikita giggled.
Jonathan frowned. "No, that's 'down.' Sometimes she gets them mixed up." He dropped the leash. "Hey," he said, "The light's out! We'd better get out of here. Somebody might be coming!"
Nikita turned instinctively toward the old church. "There is a light!" she said, "There, at the back! I see it now!"
Jonathan squinted toward the church. "No, it's out," he said, "Here, give me Rooster back and let's get out of here before any robbers show up. Come on!"
Nikita pushed the leather loop back to Jonathan. The light vanished. "You're right. Let's get out of here!"
Nikita turned her flashlight back on, and pointed the feeble beam toward the path, away from the cemetery. Jonathan followed, but felt an itch in the back of his head. The same ancient itch made Lot's wife look back, right before she turned into a pillar of salt. Jonathan looked back, and saw the window lit again. Light spilled out of the old church into the yard, as the back door appeared to open. A dark form blocked the doorway, and then the light winked out altogether. The figure moved in swift silence across the abandoned church grounds. Jonathan's fear-enchanted eyes widened as it came his way, a black shadow, against the dim church behind.
"Nikita!" his whisper was urgent, and he caught hold of her arm. "Turn off your light and get down! Somebody's coming."