Fourteen
Alaric went around the back, his feet sliding on the slippery, muddy slope down toward the outside basement where the generators, canned foods and camping gear were stored. The path was littered with leaves, twigs and overgrown bushes. It would appear that no one had been to the cabin in a while, it might even have been as long as his father’s passing five years ago.
Moss had fully carpeted the last few stone steps, his feet slipping from under him, landing him on his ass. He laughed to himself. Everything suddenly seemed funny as he fought his way through the bushes, and he was sure a lack of sleep and the stressful innuendo he had found himself in had brought the onset of delirium his way.
Climbing over a fallen tree he thought of Bane’s escape, the bombing, and the doctor an
