LIGHT IS STREAMING through the windows when I wake up. My entire body is sore. I cough, my throat hurts. I rub it to bring it some relief. I probably have a bruised neck, I think.
I look around, unsure where I am at first. Some kind of brick building, the windows dusted over with age and neglect. The entire place is dusty, covered in cobwebs. I hear the scurrying of tiny feet behind a rusted piece of equipment, looking for all the world like an old steam engine or turbine. The large flywheel is connected by a now-rotted belt to a smaller piece of equipment, from which wires run to the wall.
I slowly get to my feet. I’m unsteady and my head hurts. I stagger to the window and look out.
Across a grassy expanse, I see the rear of the Myer house. I seem to be on the edge of the woods. I turn
