Charlie and I tore down the forest path, branches lashing at our arms and legs, the wind rushing past like even it was in a hurry. I could smell that Conan had gone past here and I could smell those filthy rogues. My chest burned—but not from the run. It was panic. Dread. The kind you can taste in the back of your throat like metal.h
I know I shouldn't have been surveilling Conan's phone—but when I saw that unknown number had texted Conan and dropped a location map with no context that was written like me, I had to look into it. I had to.
Conan followed the map. I just know he did. And I know it's just to see if it was real or not.
Unfortunately I couldn't reach him now.
"Why's it so bright up ahead?" Charlie asked, squinting as we sprinted toward the glow.
And then I saw it too—flickering light just beyond the tree line. We broke through the last of the brush and stopped dead in our tracks.
A little cottage. Engulfed in raging flames and the smell of filthy rogues?
