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I follow suit, pocketing the keys and climbing out of the Jeep.
My eyes sweep the surrounding woods, one black mass in the dark night. I glance up at the moon, then at the old, decrepit house ahead of us. Despite the affluence of the neighborhood, this lot is creepy, like the scene in a horror film. I canfeelsomething in the air, an energy that sends a chill up my spine.
Staying low, we skirt the tree line on the edge of the property. Rhett crouches behind two thick trees, fused together at the base, parallel to the side of the house. The spot provides a clear view of the front and back porch.
We settle in and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
My knees ache, my quads burn, my back hurts. My nose is ice cold and has started running, demanding my full focus to keep from sniffing every three seconds. I hate people who sniff all the time.
We have been squatting for almost an hour, me shifting my weight every few seconds, heaving annoyed, impatient breaths, while Rhett hasn’t moved a muscle. He’s bigger than I am and must be in pain, but he doesn’t show it.
I am on the brink of announcing that I need to stand and stretch my legs when a twig pops somewhere in the distance.
My pulse kickstarts with a heavythump.
Rhett puts his hand on my knee, a nonverbal reminder to stay still and quiet.
Seconds later, a dark silhouette emerges from the woods opposite of our hiding spot. Long, lean legs lumber quickly across the yard. The figure disappears through the back door and into the abandoned house.
“Definitely not Crystal, right?” I whisper.
“Right, too tall.”
“Okay… What now? … Do we go in?” I start to stand.
“Wait,” he hisses, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling me back to the ground. He’s squinting into the woods where the person emerged moments earlier.
“What do you see?” I ask.
Before he can answer, another silhouette steps out of the shadows, this one smaller, with quick, nimble steps. A woman.
She disappears into the same door as the man before her.
Rhett and I watch the house, frozen in place, ears perked, eyes scanning the windows for any movement.
Five minutes pass.
Ten.
I have no idea what Rhett is waiting for.
Finally—
“I’m going to go in,” he says.
“Okay—”
“You’re staying here.”
“What? No, I—”
“You’re staying here, Sylvia. It’s not safe. If you hear anything or get scared for any reason, run to the Jeep and get out of here, okay? Leave me; just get out.”
“No way. I’m going with you.”
