*Chris' POV*
I didn't wait for the car to come to a full stop. The tyres were still crunching over the dirt when I shoved the door open and stumbled out into the cold. The air hit me like a slap: sharp, metallic, alive with something that tasted too much like fear.
"Chris, wait!" Anne called, sharp but steady. Not yelling. She knew yelling would only make me run.
I didn't run. I froze.
My shoes hit uneven ground, and the world in front of me rearranged itself around one single shape: the shed.
Small. Wooden. Tilted slightly to the right, as if it had been poorly built or had spent too many seasons fighting storms alone. The roof sagged in the middle. The front wall showed no windows, no crack of light, nothing that said life had been inside. Darkness swallowed everything that wasn't directly cut through by patrol flashlights.
The last five minutes to get here had been nothing but a dirt road winding through emptiness.
No houses. No lampposts. No movement.
