“Honey I think this is it. What does Maps say?” He squinted in the twilight at the faded sign. “Wolfthorn Lane? Is that it?”
“Ahm it looks like there is a turn. But I don’t think that’s the right name. I thought it was Worthington Lane or maybe Worth Place?” She looked at Charlie in the backseat. “Sweetie hand Mommy her purse.”
Quietly he handed her the bag. The gravel lane was quickly approaching. Dread knotted his stomach, “Mommy I don’t feel so good.” Sweat dotted his forehead, a flush crawled his neck and face.
“Tom we should be about a quarter mile. This isn’t the road.”
“No. No. I’m pretty sure this is it.” Tires squalled as he pitched the turn. “See there is the house, up on the left just like Mr. Smythe said.”
A errie wail came from the backseat. Charlie was fish belly pale and slamming his foot against the seat. “No. Bad place. No. No. No.”
“Charlie, sweetie it’s ok.” She tried to comfort him. He screamed louder and jerked away. “Tom stop the car. Something is wrong with Charlie.”
Tom stomped the break, “Go. Go. Bad place. Bad. Go.” He looked at his wife, muttering under his breath. He threw the vehicle in reverse and backed up into the road.