We pass the tree line and Frankie lets out a deep breath like he's relaxing, which only make me nervous. Well more nervous. I was already a ball of nerves before he got out of the car. We walk for a few feet in silence. The paved trail is clear of any debris, so there's no small branches snapping or leaves crinkling like you normally find when you're in scary situations. The wind isn't even blowing.
"So..." I search for anything to say. There are too many thoughts going on in my mind. If we're talking, it's easier to pretend we're two friends on a stroll rather than the Big Bad Wolf leading me to my demise. All I'm missing is the red cape and basket of goodies.
"I thought the mob was dead." Immediately after putting the period at the end of the sentence, my brain catches up with the word
