Read Bad Land for Free Online

“Well, that’s 0 for 1, buddy. Let’s hit the next house.”
    But the next dilapidated building was no better than the first. If it was possible, this house looked in even worse condition than the one before. The house was leaning to one side like it would buckle in on itself at any moment. No one came to the door despite the numerous knocks and doorbell rings. George was backing away from the door and pulling on his leash in the direction away from the house.
    “What’s wrong with you, dude?” Marshall asked. “It’s just a house.”
    But after a few more minutes of knocking, Marshall consented to his roommate’s plea to leave with a, “0 for 2.” And they approached the third house.
    The third house was a bit different. It was two stories, but in similar shape as the first two. Dirty drapes prevented any chance of being able to see in and a large rusted iron fence guarded the perimeter of the house.
    Marshall spotted an ancient looking intercom on the front of the wrought iron fence and pushed the button. “Hello?”
    There was nothing but silence on the other end. George let out another growl as he stared at the house. Marshall was already on edge just from the overall weird feeling he was getting from visiting these houses and George wasn’t helping. The intercom sprang to life as an elderly man’s voice shattered the silence. “Go away—you and your dog both.”
    Marshall was puzzled for a split second as he wondered how the man on the opposite end of the intercom knew about George. Marshall jerked his head up and caught the faintest glimpse of an old man before the curtains on the second floor swung closed.
    “Please, I’m not here to harass you,” Marshall said, holding down the button. “I just need to ask a few questions.”
    But like the other two houses, there was no going back once the resident had decided not to talk. Marshall ground his teeth in frustration.
    Why were these people so shut off? What were they so scared of?
    On the way back to his car, Marshall headed to the final house. He only had one chance left. Whatever it took, he had to get information from this last residence. He couldn’t take no for an answer. If he did, he might never find out what really happened to Barbara.
    Marshall and George walked past the other two houses toward the single house that stood alone. As they got closer, Marshall was surprised to see that this house was in nowhere near the poor condition of the other three. It would be a far stretch of the imagination to call this house nice, but the paint was still clinging on the walls and the grass was trimmed.
    Marshall opened the short chain-link fence for himself and George and started up the paved walkway.
    “Can I help you?”
    Marshall practically jumped out of his skin and George’s head snapped up, making his floppy ears bounce. The one story house had a deep-set porch, and in one corner sat the figure of an elderly man rocking gently in his chair.
    “Ummm… yes, actually. I was just wondering if I might be able to ask you a few questions.”
    “These questions wouldn’t be about the young girl that was found dead in the road yesterday morning, would it?”
    Marshall felt a surge of hope in his chest. Maybe he would get some answers after all. “Yes, do you know anything about what happened to her?”
    The old man was silent, still rocking gently back and forth.
    Marshall took this silence as an opportunity to travel a few more steps with George until he stood opposite the stranger. The stranger’s face looked as tough as leather. He was a hard man—there was no doubt about that. His short dark gray and white hair held testament to his knowledge and despite his age, there was still a look of strength in his eyes. “You’re better off leaving the subject alone, young man.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Because some questions you don’t want to know the answer to. Because some answers provoke a response. And some responses provoke