Gemotions

The radio in the truck crackled with static as Marcus drove. He’d been on the road all morning, heading to the remote cabin where he was supposed to meet Mr. Jones. The cabin was where his mentor had taught him everything. He pulled up and the silence hit him. The cabin door stood ajar. The inside was empty. He felt the blood leave his face. He scrambled out of the truck, his boots crunching on the gravel, and pushed open the door. Inside, everything was just as Mr. Jones left it. His fishing pole was still in the corner. His coat hung by the door. But Mr. Jones, he was not.