Nausea: Sequel to Warcrossed

Really, He's An Idiot

I was to meet the man in a park two miles away from my hotel. Nobody was there, which creeped me out more than a little. The playground equipment was rusty and looked like it hadn't been used in years. A breeze blew through, and the swingset squeaked.

I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders. Not because I was cold, but because I was anxious.

The man approached me, and looked different than what I had imagined. He was not big or brooding or terrifying at all. In fact, he was pretty attractive. Tall, lean, dark hair. He wore a polo shirt and navy slacks with tennis shoes. 

"Laurens, right?"

"That would be me."

"So... Take a walk with me. I'll show you something."

I didn't like that he wouldn't just tell me what he knew, but I didn't deny him either. I just wanted to be done with this so I could do whatever it was I'd decide to do next.

So I followed him.

He said nothing to me as we walked. He led me down a hiking trail behind the park, but nobody seemed to use it. Leaves and sticks littered the path, and the dirt road had grass growing over it now.

When we'd hiked at least another mile, he took a left off the path. We walked a short while through the forest, ducking under tree limbs and stepping over brush. I stumbled halfway to the building we eventually got to, and immediately I wanted to turn and run far, far away.

Something about a modern-looking house in the middle of the woods was making me feel really, really sick.