The House on Deer Creek Road: Part 3
I couldn’t look at Nyla. I couldn’t feel anything but cold all over. The shadow person stopped pacing and stood just behind us. It bent down, long arms spreading wide, resting its clawed hands on the back of the couch.
“Journey will survive the apocalypse. Cockroaches, radiation, and some asshole singing “Don't Stop Believin'” over the ruins of Cincinnati.”
“Why Cincinnati?”
“Seems like the kind of place where the apocalypse would start.”