Jonas

No hesitation.

Just walked in like it was nothing, branches swaying around him.

I sat in the truck for a solid minute, trying to make sense of that.

Thought maybe he was taking a shortcut or didn't want to be seen getting stuff delivered.

People around here are private.

Some don't even want you knowing where they live.

I'd seen weirder.

So I put the truck in gear and started up the path.

The incline was steeper than it looked.

My tires spun a couple times before catching, and I had to swerve slightly to avoid them that crossed one of the tracks.

Trees crowded in on both sides.

The higher I went, the darker it got.

My headlights barely cut through the fog, just lit up a mess of trunks and brambles.

Then the path opened up into a small clearing, and the truck coasted to a stop in front of an older frame house.

It looked abandoned.

Not decaying, not ruined, just left behind.

Boards grey with aged, shadows hanging loose, and a sagging porch that looked one good storm away from collapsing.

There were no lights, no movement, but there was a blue pick apart crooked in the grass, driver's door wide open.

I left the engine running, sat there for a few seconds just staring at the house.

No one came out.