“This is it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. The place has been here for almost a hundred years, but the trouble really started about fifty years ago.”
She continued walking up the road toward the house. He followed.
She said, “Some kid went inside and vanished. They found a window open around back, and some of his stuff inside. Nothing else.”
She walked up to the old mailbox and pulled it open. It was empty. She grunted, then slammed it shut.
“That was your uncle.” He said it rather than asking.
She shifted the backpack on her shoulder and stopped. The yard of the old house was overgrown. The house, which might once have been white but was now a faded gray, peeked above the tall grass. At here feet was the remains of a gravel path which looked like it had once led up to the front door.
“I’m surprised it’s still standing,” he said.
She grunted again. “Rumor is some rich family owns the place. Forbid or paid off the county to leave it along.”
She exhaled slowly. He watched her take the backpack off her back, she it on the ground and unzip it, and then pull out a crowbar. She flashed him a smile.
She pinned him with a speculative glare. “Yeah, I’m serious. I’m going to see what’s in there. You coming?”
Second ticked by. She shifted her weight and sighed impatiently.
He shrugged. ‘Fine. Yeah. Let’s go,”
Together they fought their way through the tall grass, toward the old ruin of a house.