35
After twenty minutes of driving, the Tom pulled onto a slip-road and parked up.
I stared out the passenger window. Fields. Fields. More fields. On both sides of the road. “What is this place?”
“For now?” he asked, opening his door. “The toilet.”
“So, this isn’t where we’re headed, then, I’m guessing.”
“Nope.” He hopped out and spun, peering back inside. “That’d be the King’s cabin.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “You know, I’ve seen Cabin in the Woods. Tell me this one’s different.”
He chuckled. “A lot of the Coalition Toms like to have relations on the side, with human females. So, a lot of them have extra properties, far from their homes, so those kinds of indiscretions occur away from watchful eyes.”
“You’re nothing but a bunch of hypocrites,” I said, frowning. “You all at
