He had been leaning up against the chain-link fence that surrounded the long-abandoned dilapidated brick building for nearly a half hour.
"This," he thought to himself, "sucks like mad."
He was a few months shy of his 21st birthday but he had the shakes, due to being without alcohol for the past 3 days, which was about as long as he could remember being dry without being in the joint since he was 12.
"Where the hell are they?" He said that out loud, in hopes that one of them would hear it and reply, "We're over here."
But no answer came from the darkness that surrounded him.
"I knew I shouldn't have listened to Paulie, he's so full of it. Now I'm stuck here freezing to death. I gotta get out of here."
He looked through the gap cut with linemen's pliers in the fence that he was leaning against and tried hard to see if there was anything moving in the large overgrown lawn that spanned the distance from the perimeter established by the fence up to the falling down entrance of the building.
He really couldn't see a thing, but he could certainly hear things.
Creaks and groans made by loose trim or unsecured doors and windows that moved when the wind picked up, and the constant sound of shaking branches and shivering leaves.
Those sounds alone were enough to spook him, but when coupled with the DT's that had kicked in the other day, well, it was almost enough to drive a man insane.
And then he heard the laughter.
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