Page 7 of Trick or Stalk

“So do you.”

“Probably.”

He grabs the suitcases and heads toward the cabin.

I follow, carrying the duffel.

The porch groans beneath our weight.

Wilder stops and slowly looks down. “If I fall through this fucking thing⁠—”

“I’ll pull you out.”

“That’s comforting.”

I unlock the door and push it open.

The smell hits first.

Dust.

Old wood.

Something stale from the place being closed up too long.

Wilder reaches inside and flips the switch.

Nothing happens.

He flips it again.

Still nothing.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.”

“The electric is on.”

“Clearly.”

I step around him and try another switch.

A yellow light flickers to life over what passes for a kitchen.

Wilder looks at me. “Luxury.”

“Stop bitching.”

“I haven't even started.”

I carry the duffel toward the hallway and check the first bedroom. Small. One window. Closet. Bed frame without a mattress.

Good enough.

I set the duffel inside the closet.

Wilder appears behind me. “You're taking that room?”

“Yeah.”