“A blast from the past,” Ty said as they rounded the corner and a decrepit brick warehouse came into view. Broken-down train cars lined tracks that were overgrown with husks of dead grass. The entire landscape was brown—rusty metal, muddy ground, dirty bricks. “Ta-da! Isn’t it beautiful? Sometimes I feel like I can still hear the whistle of the trains in the distance.”
JD knew enough local history to know that the freight line hadn’t come through this part of town in decades. He sat for a moment, squinting his eyes, looking at the abandoned building, its broken windows, and graffiti. “It’s, ah, very retro. . . . ” he said. It wasn’t exactly what he’d been expecting, but then again, he couldn’t have imagined Ty pulling him out of theater early or packing him a picnic. He cleared his throat. “Looks like a spot that serial killers would take their victims, actually,” he said. “Should I be worried you’re trying to kill me?”
Ty laughed. “I thought it would be the perfect place,” she said as they got out of the car. What she thought it would be perfect for, he wasn’t sure. “It’s different, you know?”
She took his hand in one of hers—naturally, easily, as though they’d been holding hands forever. JD began to sweat. This was definitely a date. Which meant at one point, she might expect him to kiss her. Which meant he should start being nervous approximately now.
She led him toward a low broken window on the side wall of the warehouse. Faded stalks of grass, old cigarette butts, and shards of broken glass formed the carpet below their feet.
“Careful,” JD said, noticing Ty’s strappy sandals. “You’re not exactly dressed for urban adventuring.” He reached over to grab the picnic basket—an ornate wicker thing with a bright red ribbon wrapped around the handle.
“And you are?” She smiled huge, revealing paper-white teeth.
“These pants were probably made when this warehouse was still functional,” JD said in defense of his gray corduroys. “And suspenders are very practical.”
“Whatever you say.” She giggled as she put one leg through the window and then the other, snaking her body carefully to avoid snagging her clothing on any jagged edge. He followed her lead much less gracefully, managing to snap off a piece of the window ledge with his workboot as he jammed his foot through.
Once inside, she motioned for him to follow her down a hallway. Their footsteps echoed in the dark. The place was vast, cavernous, full of large, empty rooms, presumably places where old machines used to sit. It smelled like damp and bird shit and mice. Dusty shafts of sun filtered weakly through the broken windows and pitted roof, but did little to penetrate the dark. JD fought to ignore a buzzing anxiety, a fear that spiders might drop on him from above or rats would suddenly swarm them from the darkness.
It was, without a doubt, the worst picnic place he could imagine.
He cleared his throat. “So, how’d you find this place?”
“I like old things,” Ty said. “Always have. My cousins and I like to explore. See who can dig up the best stuff. Ascension is crazy old. There’s a lot of cool places around here. Stories like you wouldn’t believe . . . haunted places. Places where they staked witches, or burned them alive. Well, women who they thought were witches, anyway.” For a second, her voice rang out, steely, harsh. Then she turned to him, and her teeth flashed in the half-dark. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Well, it seems like this would be the place to find them,” JD said, trying to joke. But he was uncomfortable. There was something about this place that freaked him out, made him feel as though he were being watched.
“Let’s find out. . . . ” Ty said, trailing off as they came to a tight, rickety stairway not unlike the one that led to the catwalk at the theater. “This way.”
She grabbed the basket from his hands and led the way, climbing so quickly it was almost as if she floated above the rung-like steps. He followed much less surely, planting his feet nervously and gripping the railings on either side.
The top of the stairs opened up into a bright, window-lined room. The walls were brick and the floors were thick slabs of wood. Iron pillars stood around the otherwise empty space. It was dusty and in disrepair. No one had been here in a long time.
The sun was just starting to set, and the glass burned orange-red. Ty walked over to the window and looked out. JD wanted to join her, but the moment seemed loaded. He didn’t want it to seem like he was making a move or something. He wasn’t even sure he should make a move—whether she wanted him to, whether he wanted to.
“Come look at this,” she breathed, shielding her eyes against the glare.
He hesitated for just a second, and then moved closer. The scene outside the window was a perfectly composed juxtaposition of industry and nature—the rusty, unused train tracks, overgrown with weeds, butting up against the forest, dark with evergreen branches. A scene of unrestrained wildness. For a moment, he felt like he was inside a museum exhibit, encased in glass.