63

You head up a gravel path which is soaked with rainwater. The tiny gray stones are tightly packed and make shuffling sounds as you step on them, so you switch to walk on the grass next to the path. You briskly walk toward the first cabin and stop at the edge of the porch leading inside. While the windows are boarded, the wood is separated enough to peer through the slats. Inside, the room is in disarray: clothes and trash thrown about, old cots overturned with stained mattresses folded or placed against the walls, stacks of broken wood pieces piled in one corner. You slide along the wall to look through another window for a different angle and see the door is blocked with long two-by-four planks braced against it.

Movement inside startles you. Something stirs beneath a sheet on the floor near the front door. You pull back from the window and crouch down. No sounds can be heard from inside. Even outside, the rain has slowed a bit so the constant background noise has died down. Several minutes lapse.

If you shine your light inside, it may disturb whoever or whatever is inside.