Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was mid-afternoon by the time they reached their destination. Their mission was to contact the private investigator Nancy's dead friend Barb's parents had hired to solve the girl's disappearance. According to their stories, Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan were the only ones that knew Barb was truly dead and inside The Upside Down. Sloane still had immense trouble believing everything about last fall, but the look in Nancy and Jonathan's eyes when it was brought up was enough to know those eyes had seen too much for their young years. Sloane knew the feeling. Sometimes she forgot Nancy knew about the things Sloane had gone through. She remembered in times like this morning when Sloane had been about to slide into the drivers' seat, but Nancy placed a gentle hand on her arm and asked a silent question with her eyes. The look of concern was enough to push Sloane into the passenger side. She couldn't remember the last time someone looked at her like that. Maybe the things she heard last night in the motel room were impacting her view, but she was going to keep her mouth shut regardless.
They pulled up to a building that looked overgrown and decrepit, but the clean car out front was the only indicator that someone had lived there in the last decade. The ferns clung to the walls and Sloane was surprised the front door could even open with how much junk was clogging the entrance. With a heavy sigh, she stepped out of the car with the other two. Her eyes met Nancy's across the hood of the car, but Sloane refused to let her gaze linger.
"Are you positive this is the right place?" Jonathan asked and Sloane had been wondering the same thing.
"This looks like where the psycho lone survivor in the apocalypse movie lives," she scoffed as the three of them inspected the building before stepping slowly up to the stoop.
Nancy looked at the paper in her hand with the address from the Hollands, "3833. Yeah, this is it."
The air was brisk against Sloane's skin and she regretted leaving her jacket in the car, even if she was only going to be outside for a few moments. Nancy seemed to notice the goosebumps rising on her skin as she nudged her and handed her the jacket Sloane thought she left in the backseat.
"Thought you might need this," Nancy mumbled with a small chuckle as Sloane thanked her. "What would you do without me?"
Sloane shrugged, joking, "I dunno. Die, probably."
On the door in spray paint were the words, "Keep Door Closed," which Sloane found entertaining. She could never be a hermit like this, she craved attention and praise every moment she walked the dying Earth. She almost admired this sketch private investigator for the way he lived, but alas, she had yet to meet the man himself. Jonathan reached over and pressed the doorbell, but their ears were met with a harsh buzzing causing all three of them to flinch.
