Despite his initial onslaught of worry, sleeping outside these days was usually akin to asking for trouble, the sun broke the peaceful sleep he had been having and revealed that all had remained exactly the same as it had been the night before. A fine supper, fine as any that Adrian had had recently, lay in the pits of his stomach. His mouth called for water, to which he obliged. During the night the cooling temperature had affected the bottle, and he enjoyed the crispness of the liquid. The plastic crunched and squeaked as he inhaled the last drops, then he tossed the bottle to the empty passenger seat on his left. Yawning, he performed a rudimentary check on his furry companion in the backseat; Kevin had not moved a solid inch beside the now-expected rise and fall of his breathing chest. It was good, he realized, to look back and know that he would see Kevin alive and breathing. The mystery and uncertainty of his condition had been its own stress on Adrian’s life, but for now at least that seemed to be a thing of the past.

Adrian made to pat the dog on its head, he could see that the swelling around the injury had gone down. As he put his arm in motion, aiming to reach Kevin who was to his right and behind his back in the rear seat, without moving out of his own, a momentary lapse of memory was paid for. As his left hip lifted off of the seat, the skin around it overlapped and folded. Adrian felt dried blood and forming scabs grate away at the seams of his pants. He let out silent screams of pain that were easily comparable to someone gasping for air. Wincing, he made to check the wound. Something that should have been done last night, but that price was paid for now.

His belt was unlatched with hands that were groggy with sleep, the brown leather of the strap was worn and torn. Then he undid the button, unzipped and shimmied the waistline of his pants and underwear halfway down his thigh. The dried blood clung to the fabric of his underwear as he peeled it away. As slow as he tried to take the process, it still felt more like he was ripping it off and the sensation of fresh blood was beginning to well up there. His left hip welcomed the cool air, it breathed easily with no constraints.

The wound itself was red and beginning to sprout thin, deep-blue veins. It didn’t look infected, it didn’t look necessarily bad just yet, but to Adrian it looked terrifying. It's infected. It's getting infected. The thought was pandemonium inside of his mind, and as it wore down he was able to diagnose himself a little more correctly. Maybe it wasn't infected, but it was definitely getting to that point. Antibiotics would be a good idea, if he had any. Or even if he knew where to find them. Instead, he covered the injury up again with a bandage from the medkit and then put his pants back on. Following a routine he was yet unfamiliar with, he fiddled about for the multivitamins. He took two for himself with a swig from the canteen he had found at Reggie’s, ground up another with the keys to the car and lapped the fine dust into Kevin's mouth using water, a bit of effort to get the animal to cautiously swallow the mixture, and an additional slice of pain that all of this seated bending brought to his hip.

Kevin was not awake today, he noticed. His wound was healing much better than Adrian’s was, the split skin was starting to heal back together. A crude cluster of scabs was forming, a thick line that ran across the egg-shaped lump on the top of his head. Adrian let a weary sigh out, repositioned himself to a better angle and then stared out of the windshield.

The day was clear, the light of morning was just now chasing the last of the nighttime darkness away. Clear blue skies greeted him, the sun was slinking out from behind the treeline to the east. The hotel in front of him looked a lot more pleasant and welcoming than it had last night. He could even see the sign pronouncing its name now, black text reading The Wandering Sheppard Resort & Inn on a long and slender wooden board that was placed between the main door and the second floor windows. It added a countrified touch to the dull, muddy-pink building. Almost pulling off an amiable if not presently lonely atmosphere. He could envision the hotel in its prime, a bustling display of intertwining humans. Business men and women in suits and dresses running here and there, talking incessantly to their cell phones or to the employees with their questions and complaints, the partiers settling down for the evening (and by that he meant scurrying to their rented rooms with alcohol and chips, noise complaints were likely to follow).

The name of the building, of course, struck an eery and haunting chord within Adrian. And although the metaphor was blatant and surprising, Adrian didn’t feel the shock he might of once initially expected he would. He nonchalantly lifted his eyebrows as if in amusement, let out a slow puff of air that unintentionally left as a whistle between his moist, pursed lips.

Not feeling a trace of shock throughout his system was the shock itself. Since when had he become adapted to the new world, in a manner that took the brisk sting out of that which came with the revelation of what exactly a waking day in hell could bring? Only two days ago he had seen the first spray painted image of an “X”, and this had unsettled him just as he thought this new and labeled oddity would. But today as he stared at The Wandering Sheppard he felt not much beside a meek curiosity and the usual, constant and strong sense of impending tragedy. The latter sensation had become so much a regular part of Adrian that in order to remember it was an omnipresent feeling and not the basis of who he was and how he naturally felt every day, he had to think about what tragedies could unfold, and then as the feeling grew he could recognize it. The worry fed that constant apprehension like a wind to fire would, and brought clarity that this persistent feeling wasn’t a normality but just something that loomed over Adrian.

Adrian even began to think that perhaps he was a part of a cruel comedy. A long, worn out and unwelcome reality TV show. He could see it in his mind now, a camera crew that had been following him and any minute now they would jump out of the trees, the hotel and even from the road behind him to tell him just how pranked he was. In this daydream, he even saw Douglas running up with the rest of the family, to announce just exactly how well they had all gotten him.

He sighed as the warmth from such a fantasy left. Even a heartless act such as that would erase all doubt, fear and anger if it came to pass now. Adrian wasn’t one to take a joke lightly, but the relief…

He gripped the handle to the car door, and yanked it. There was no real time to sit and fantasize about what the “what might have been’s” were. Cool autumn air whipped and whistled in and around the car, revealing a windy day. Looking back a final time before stepping out, he saw the gentle twitch of Kevin’s ear as his body responded to the sudden drop in temperature.

“You lucky fuck,” Adrian cursed. He wasn't sure if he meant to say it lightly and in jest or if he was serious. What luck had this creature had lately beside the unfortunate bad luck of Adrian stumbling upon him mid-meal?

The muscles in his legs, back and shoulders felt as stiff as a board as they swung out of the car and performed the rudimentary task of standing up. While gauging the inn that was in front of him he decided to take a leisurely five minute warm up to massage and slowly stretch some elasticity back into his limbs and back. The hard calluses of his fingertips pressed deeply into the muscles, feeling the tense knots that had developed long ago and settled in to claim his body as home. Soon the relieving pressure made it difficult for Adrian to focus and put his strength to use behind his fingers. His eyes closed automatically before snapping back, wide open. This is not a safe place to be doing this, came the thought laced heavily with regret and shame. The soothing sensation faded as his hands dropped by his side, but now he felt a bit more limber. Hopefully tonight's sleep will be on a bed. Adrian cast a nervous glance up at the building again. Nothing had changed, he thought, no one had seen him.

The inn was surprisingly in good condition. There was no spray paint, broken windows or fire damage unlike on other buildings he had seen (although to say that the weather beaten walls could use a new coat was an understatement). Behind every window was total blackness, but Adrian couldn't see if that was on the part of dark rooms or drawn window blinds. Looking at the position of the sun he could see that it was not inclined to lend him any assistance. Not a single window had any shutters, ledges or decor which struck the hospitality side of Adrian as odd. It gave the building a very flat and untextured appearance, complemented only by the roof’s snow-white border design, an intricate and (to Adrian’s perspective at least; the woodworking was rather impressively cut) handcrafted series of designs that followed the slow slope of the roof up and met at the peak, giving the top of the building an appearance of a tablecloth that had been draped over the top.

Adrian suddenly felt like he was brought back in the past, and in his mind’s eye he could see again the small tables in the Croteau’s that held either vases or kettles and the tablecloths that had laid under them, all coated in dust. For just that brief moment Adrian had felt a pronounced terror about his current situation, and the feeling of dread and doubt lingered after it as he returned to the present. In the back of his mind was the unanswerable question of “what lies ahead of me?”

Glancing at his gear inside of the car: his backpack, cane and animal, he knew it was time to make his move. It was time to go inside and face his fear. Time to, whether he was ready or not, answer that question he couldn’t answer on this side of the walls. He imagined what it was going to be like. Adrian saw himself walking up to The Wandering Sheppard, pulling open the door and getting a glimpse of what was inside. In his mind, he saw a brightly lit chandelier dangling above a small foyer, employees in uncomfortable uniforms running about. The incessant drone of people talking, amplified as only open and welcoming foyers such as the one he would find inside can produce.

Except… it wouldn't be like that. That was only the scene of a hotel that Adrian was familiar with. In reality, as he envisioned it again, he would walk up to the door, full of fright and nerves. It would squeak loudly, having been neglected of any maintenance for so long, and the sound would echo inside the now revealing and defenseless foyer. A sitting duck in motion, he would walk straight into a mess cluttered, stinking and for all other matters empty lobby. Except, maybe there would be another family in there. Killed by some lunatic with a gun and a desire for alcohol and chips. Maybe that same lunatic would again have a gun pointed at Adrian. Luck probably wouldn't abide for a second gunshot.

He gulped a nervous lump back down his throat with no success. His heart, he noticed, was palpitating against his chest heavily. Covering his gun wound and feeling a small warmth emanating from it, he recognized that the uncertainty of what was behind the doors in front of him was certainly more terrorizing than another encounter where a maniac would propel himself out and take advantage of the situation. Adrian thought he might even be prepared this time around, knowing what he knew about the people that survived alongside him now. It dawned on him that that old man who shot him had been Adrian’s first social interaction since he left West Virginia, not including Kevin. The thought was not brightening his mood.

Ok, now it's time to go in. I'll just grab my gear. He had never used a gun before but all of a sudden he wished he had one. The unfamiliar feel of steel in his hand would at least relax some of his nerves. Adrian limped to the passenger's side of the car, putting a lot of weight on the hood as he walked around. Once again, he appreciated the fact that he found this cane. It not only proved its use as a weapon, but taking the load off of his bum leg was so relieving that the joy brought water to his eyes.

Adrian pulled the door open and stared at his meager stash. I should organize and tally what I have here. Yes. Then I'll go inside.

And so he began the tedious task of rifling through his backpack and duffel bag. It provided an easy escape from the stress, as he normally felt when he dove into a chore such as this. Monotony and being meticulous was boring. Boring was safe.

All in all, Adrian had his cane that he had laid against the car during his rummaging, six bottles and two jugs of water, with a total of three canteens to accompany them. Two of the three canteens were full. There was the medkit, and upon opening it Adrian frowned at its already depleting store of supplies. Aside from these items, Adrian also had toilet paper, soaps and sanitizer, and the small inventory of canned and dried foods.

Neatly it was organized, and all but the jugs of water fit inside of the duffel bag. These he put on the floor of the front seat to be out of the sun’s rays for much of the day, and the empty backpack was put in the back, crudely stuffed into a pocket attached to the backside of the front seats, to await a future purpose.

Accounting for and stowing his items away properly had eased his nerves about the task ahead of him, banishing them to the back of his mind. But as he looked up and saw the looming three-story structure it became a reality again, and no longer a background thought. The fear, he found, had never left. Only placed aside.

I'm stalling. I'm too afraid to go in so I'm stalling. The truth seeped into his mind, and at first he thought the idea of it was absurd, but it was impossible to deny. Adrian was too afraid to enter the building. Maybe it was the connection of its name and his own, or maybe it was the recent encounter with the psychotic old man, but fear was weighing too heavy for Adrian to lift his legs. He lowered his head in an expression of resignation.

He looked at the cane, still leaning against the car. For a second he found the courage he required. Once more in his imagination he saw himself gripping the cane and walking defiantly up to the resort. Without hesitation he opened its main door and…

And what? Adrian had no idea. A lack of certainty brought questions, and his courage began to flee from them. The brief moment of bravery he felt was passed. He sighed, and put the cane back in the car so that it touched the floor by the duffel bag and leaned against the seat. Quickly he closed the door so it wouldn't slide out and fall to the ground.

With wounded hip and pride, he limped back to the driver's side of the car and got in. The lack of the winds chill was welcome, but inside of the car there was an uncomfortable silence. Kevin woofed and it lapsed. Adrian leaned back awkwardly, trying to avoid hip pain, and gave Kevin a few gentle pats along his body. Why did he feel like he was failing him? He was just a dog.

But he was Adrian’s dog now. That was why. Adrian no longer provided for one, he provided for two. Perhaps it was just now that the gravity of what that meant was falling on him.

Adrian found the key to the car and felt the grooves on its extended end. He fingered over the imprinted lines on its side. The metal was cold to his touch.

Why was it such a difficult task to simply move and make a decision? Adrian wondered for another minute but couldn't come to any conclusion, over the question or for his dilemma. He was finding it equally as intimidating to jam the key in the ignition and turn it, feel the car come alive once again and leave. Leave this place as quick as he could, hopefully avoiding some awful catastrophe that awaited him inside. But what if there was just another catastrophe on the road? He had already encountered and barely managed to avoid the detection of two people while travelling, and while he had succeeded in that, it did not make him feel compelled to get back out on the road.

Through association and his recent revelations about her, he found himself daydreaming about Alyssa again. If she were here, she would have wanted to explore and investigate. She'd have known that there was an equal amount of risk to going inside the resort as there was to being back out on the road, but being back on the road not only provided danger, it was a drain on a depleting resource that truthfully would not last much longer: gasoline. It would be gone much quicker if Adrian continued to drive, but was that risk worth the potential reward?

There was simply too much uncertainty. Adrian was not a fan of being placed in scenarios with little information being given, and then asked to solve them. It seemed unfair, and he felt the stubborn depression of that sentiment as a child would. It barely helped to imagine himself in anyone else’s point of view, analyzing the situation, be it Douglas or Alyssa or someone else. In the end it was coming down to the decisions that he made and no matter who’s persona he stole from, it still made that decision his.

So what is that decision? Am I going in or not? What would Adrian do… the thought provoked old gears in his head that had not only grown dust but quickly rusted. They spun and small sparks formed in his brain, and despite his pain, for the first time in a long time he felt relatively healthy. What would Adrian do… and it was easy to know. Adrian was the sort of person to turn around when turning around is necessary. Like I tried to do with Alyssa, but… I also know when a destination is worth reaching. Had I been stayed in West Virginia I would be dead. Blown away. But I followed my instinct, I took what I had to work with and made the best choice that I could. And judging by what I have here…

Just what was that? He pondered on it. A car, with a decent amount of gas left in it. He could easily drive for another two or four hours with no worries, the sun was still low in its rising which meant ample time to be travelling. But wasn’t that a reason to not go, as others would be on the road?

On the other hand, this resort was in front of him now, required no travel, and so far had seemed empty. Adrian had slept all night and had not been disturbed. No car had driven up this dirt lane, although it was not a hidden one. Yes… he was convinced. Exploring The Wandering Sheppard Resort & Inn was the least dangerous option to take. And the longer he waited, the more risk he took.

He glanced back at Kevin and saw his one eye that faced Adrian was closed. Asleep and dreaming, he hoped. Adrian felt aglow with the pride he felt in taking on the responsibility to provide for someone other than himself. His actions would impact another creature for the first time in eight months. That meant something, and gave him a personal drive in his step as he got out of the car with his cane in hand. He looked up at the towering building ahead of him and admittedly felt a shred of regret mixed with a bundle of fear. But he swallowed it down and began his march toward The Wandering Sheppard Resort & Inn.

---

Each step up to the roasted-brown double doors felt like its own personal challenge and accomplishment as he made his way there. Adrian strained his ears, willing them to work better and hoping it provided a better result. The wind whistled, the only sound.

One of the first and weirdest things that Adrian noticed was that no matter how close he got to the building he could not see into the windows. All that was there was pitch black. As he got closer he thought he would at least be able to see the familiar color and pattern of boards, but even as he approached the doorway with its small, red awning that the wind had battered holes into he could only see blackness. He thought about going to peek inside a window, before quickly discarding that idea as unsafe. Adrian didn’t think there was anyone inside, after all no one had came out while he had slept, but he wasn’t about to rule it out as a possibility.

The inside of his mouth was dry, but his skin glistened with sweat. He wiped his brow before decisively grabbing both of the brass handles (he noted that they were polished brass handles) and threw back the doors to reveal the interior. Now there was no going back.

A waft reached Adrian’s nose, a putridly fragrant smell. It was an aroma like a mix of strong body odor, human waste and some kind of chemical. A cleaning chemical, he assumed. It was pungent and brought tears to his eyes. The smell hit him at the same time as an odd sight struck him, an especially odd sight to Adrian. He was so used to the decor that flourished a lobby. The lack of it, the lack of any furniture or item was so discombobulating that Adrian stood dumbfounded, head tilted and breathing wretched smelling air through his nose.

Tepidly he began to walk in, the light behind him caught a quick reflection of a bright golden shine from somewhere within. There was a concierge desk in front of him, maybe twenty feet away. Adrian guessed that that would have been taken away, too, had it not been built into the floor. Behind this desk there was a staircase on either side that led up to the second floor, and in the center of the room was an opening where the second and, Adrian assumed, third floor interior balconies could look down. He noted that the side of the building opposite of the entrance did not have access to looking down, due to the staircases that must have went all of the way up.

For all of its smells, Adrian could tell that this place had been kept clean. He bent to rub the tiled floors, and not a trace of dust was left on his fingers. As he stood back up and took a more meticulous look around, Adrian noticed the only item he had seen in the lobby so far. A brass bell on the concierge desk, with a small white rectangle in front of it. Using his cane he quickly made his way to inspect it.

The rectangle, as it turned out, was a slip of paper leaning against the bell. He could see that the bell had as well been polished, but the paper was yellowing and curling at its edges. The paper read in a bold computer font “RING”. Adrian picked the paper up, turned it over but saw nothing on its other side.

What is going on. This is bad. Anxiety started to grow within the pits of his stomach. He turned around quickly, not using his cane to move. The price was a sharp, fiery hot shot of pain from his hip. He barked out a shout, closing his eyes and letting go of the cane to cup the wound with both hands.

Shock opened his eyes as he felt a thick web fall upon him. His vision was reduced to green, squared holes. As he made to move his hands to get rid of the obstruction in his vision, he felt the movement of something laced on his hands. The thin green rope got caught between his fingers, and as Adrian thrashed within the net he fell over. The gunshot wound erupted, and he felt blood trickling down his leg and dripping off onto the inside of his pant leg. As he resigned moving, a red spot grew where most of the blood was collecting. After a moment, someone grabbed Adrian by his shoulders and began to drag him.