She came to another room.
A bathroom.
The toilet looked like feces would make it cleaner, but there was a window. There was no glass, and the foliage had made its way inside, but there was a window.
The third room had to be a bedroom.
She pushed on the door.
Then, she screamed.
There was a naked man hanging upside down in the bedroom, and she wondered whether this was a normal occurrence in the forests in close proximity to cartel hubs.
He groaned, which brought her scream to an end. Human instinct told her to ask if he needed help, but with the predicament this man was in, she didn’t want to risk pissing off whoever he’d pissed off.
He hung from the rafters from what appeared to be hooks with more rust on them than the anchor from the Titanic. If she made it back home, she would have to remember to ask Tayler whether tetanus was a slow or quick death.
There was no furniture. Here, the ceiling was in slightly better shape, with no gaping holes or openings, but she wouldn’t be spending the night in a room with a hanging man.
“Hold the phone.” She went closer. “Lorenzo?”
Her head snapped around.
If this was Lorenzo…
She raced outside and scanned the dark woods, knowing she wouldn’t see anything, but she looked anyhow.
“Adrían?”
Please answer.
Please answer.
She tried again, louder. “Adrían!”
A flock of dark birds—at least, she hoped they were birds—scrambled from the treetops. Instead of flying off, they headed in her direction, and she dashed back inside the cabin.
Bats.
They were bats, not birds.
“God, maybe if you tried telling me what I did wrong, I could get you to stop hating me,” she said.
Thunder roared.
“I’m not staying in that room.”
A few raindrops fell.
Quickly, it went from sprinkle to deluge, forcing her back to the only room that had a ceiling with basic structural integrity.
“Fuck my life.”
Lightning flashed.
She tossed up her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but look at what I’m dealing with. I should be allowed a few f-bombs.”
Lorenzo groaned again.