The rusty pickup truck had been making the same high-pitched squeal for the last forty-seven kilometers.
Larry had tried turning up the radio.
The radio stopped working.
Barry had tried diagnosing the noise.
He concluded that it was “probably mechanical.”
Garry had spent the last twenty minutes leaning his head out the passenger window, trying to determine whether the truck was screaming for help.
Then they saw the sign.
It stood crooked beside the highway, riddled with bullet holes and leaning far enough to the left that gravity appeared to have already filed an eviction notice.
WELCOME TO LOOGANS BLUFF
POPULATION 632
Someone had spray-painted underneath it:
631 IF CLETUS DOESN’T MAKE IT
Garry pointed excitedly.
“LOOK! We’re here!”
Larry squinted through the bug-splattered windshield.
“This is Loogans Bluff?”
Barry leaned forward.
“Technically, Boss, the sign would strongly suggest that.”
Larry slowed the truck.
There was nothing ahead of them except a narrow road, a rusted guardrail and a dead raccoon lying upside down in the ditch.
“Barry, you told me this was a town.”
“It is a town.”
“WHERE?”
Barry pointed ahead.
“Probably behind the raccoon.”
Garry stared at the animal as they passed.
“Do you think that’s Cletus?”
Larry turned slowly toward him.
“What?”
“The sign said Cletus might not make it.”
“That’s a raccoon, Garry.”
“Oh.”
Garry looked back through the rear window.
“Poor Cletus.”
The truck continued down the hill.
Loogans Bluff slowly appeared below them.
And unfortunately, Barry had been telling the truth.
There really was a town.
Calling it picturesque would have required an extremely dishonest photographer.
A handful of aging storefronts lined the main road. Half the buildings appeared abandoned, while the other half appeared to be waiting patiently for abandonment.
There was a gas station with only one visible pump.
A laundromat called MAYBE CLEAN.
A tavern advertising COLD BEER, WARM FOOD, QUESTIONABLE PEOPLE.
A tire shop with six tires piled on the roof for reasons nobody could immediately explain.
And at the intersection stood a tiny police station beside a much larger liquor store.
Larry stared through the windshield.
“I hate it already.”
Barry nodded approvingly.
“Property taxes should be fantastic.”
Garry pressed his face against the glass.
“Hey! They have a dentist!”
Larry glanced over.
The sign read:
DR. CLETUS W. MCFADDEN
DENTIST / TAXIDERMY
Larry looked back at Garry.
“No.”
“But what if I need a tooth pulled?”
“He’ll probably mount it on your wall.”
Garry considered this.
“That would actually be kinda cool.”
As they rolled slowly down Main Street, residents began turning to stare.
An old man sitting outside the tavern lowered his newspaper.
A woman carrying groceries stopped walking.
Two children riding bicycles pulled onto the sidewalk.
A dog barked once, looked at the truck, then ran in the opposite direction.
The reason became obvious when Barry looked through the rear window.
“Larry?”
“What?”
“We’re losing some belongings.”
Larry checked the mirror.
A folding chair bounced across the intersection behind them.
Then a lamp.
Then one of Garry’s boxes.
Garry screamed.
“MY ROCKS!”
Larry slammed on the brakes.
The truck jerked violently.
The mountain of garbage in the bed shifted forward.
A toaster flew over the cab and landed directly in the middle of Main Street.
Silence.
The three stared through the windshield.
Barry cleared his throat.
“Technically, that toaster hasn’t worked since 2019.”
Garry opened the door.
“IT STILL MAKES GOOD BATH TOAST!”
Larry grabbed the back of his shirt.
“You are not getting out.”
“But my rocks!”
“They’re ROCKS!”
“They’re my retirement rocks!”
“YOU DON’T HAVE A JOB!”
“That’s why I need the rocks!”
Larry stared at him.
Barry nodded.
“He actually has you there, Boss.”
Larry released Garry and slammed both hands against the steering wheel.
“I have made a terrible mistake.”
An elderly man standing outside the tavern watched them for several seconds before shouting:
“You boys moving here?”
Larry rolled down the window.
“Apparently!”
The old man smiled.
“Sorry to hear that.”
Larry frowned.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
But the man had already gone inside.
Barry looked thoughtful.
“Friendly town.”
They retrieved most of their belongings.
The toaster was left behind after Larry declared it “natural selection.”
Then they followed Barry’s directions away from Main Street and down an increasingly narrow gravel road.
The buildings disappeared.
The pavement disappeared.
Eventually, even the gravel seemed to lose interest.
Larry bounced violently behind the steering wheel as the pickup rattled down two muddy tire tracks surrounded by weeds.
“Barry.”
“Yeah?”
“Where exactly is this house?”
“Almost there.”
“You said that twenty minutes ago.”
“We’ve been getting progressively closer.”
“THAT’S HOW DRIVING WORKS!”
Garry pointed ahead.
“There’s another sign!”
A handmade wooden arrow was nailed to a tree.
DEAD END
Underneath it, someone had added:
SERIOUSLY
Larry stopped the truck.
“Barry.”
Barry checked his phone.
“Huh.”
“Huh WHAT?”
“It says turn right.”
Larry looked right.
There was no road.
There was a swamp.
A frog stared at them.
Garry waved.
The frog jumped away.
“Nobody likes us here.”
Barry rotated the phone.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“I was holding the map upside down.”
Larry closed his eyes.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Garry whispered:
“Are you sleeping?”
“No, Garry.”
“Because you shouldn’t sleep while you’re driving.”
Larry opened his eyes.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Twenty minutes later, after reversing nearly a kilometer because Larry refused to drive into the swamp, they finally reached the correct road.
At the end of it stood their new home.
Larry stopped the truck.
All three stared.
Nobody said anything.
The house was technically two stories tall, although the second story appeared to be reconsidering that commitment.
The roof sagged dramatically in the middle.
Several windows were boarded over.
One shutter hung by a single hinge and swung slowly in the wind.
The porch leaned forward like it was trying to crawl away from the building.
An old television sat in the front yard.
Beside it was a refrigerator with no door.
Beside that was a toilet.
Growing directly out of the toilet was a surprisingly healthy tomato plant.
Barry smiled.
“There she is.”
Larry looked at him.
“There WHO is?”
“Our new house.”
Larry looked back at the structure.
Then at Barry.
Then back at the structure.
“That’s not a house.”
“Technically it has walls.”
“ONE OF THEM IS FALLING OFF!”
“Still attached.”
“BARRY!”
Garry climbed out of the truck.
“Wow!”
Larry stared at him.
“Wow GOOD or wow BAD?”
Garry walked toward the porch.
“I don’t know yet.”
He stepped onto the first stair.
It collapsed.
Garry disappeared waist-deep through the porch.
“BAD!”
Barry got out and examined the property.
“It’s got character.”
Larry pointed toward the roof.
“It’s got TREES growing out of it!”
A small sapling was indeed growing from the gutter.
Barry shrugged.
“Free landscaping.”
Larry’s eye twitched.
Then he noticed something attached to the front gate.
A large red real estate sign read:
SOLD
Someone had taped a handwritten piece of cardboard underneath.
GOOD RIDDANCE
Larry slowly pointed at it.
“Barry.”
“Yeah?”
“Why does our SOLD sign say GOOD RIDDANCE?”
Barry walked closer.
“Hmm.”
“HMM?”
“It could mean the previous owner was happy to move.”
“The previous owner is DEAD!”
Garry finally pulled himself out of the porch.
“Maybe he’s happy about being dead.”
Larry pointed at him.
“Do not help.”
Garry looked disappointed.
Barry stepped around the side of the house.
Larry reluctantly followed him.
The backyard was worse.
An overturned bathtub sat underneath a tree.
Three shopping carts were tangled together near a rusted shed.
A clothesline stretched across the yard with a single pair of enormous underwear hanging from it.
Garry stared upward.
“Those aren’t mine.”
Larry looked at him.
“Why would I think they were yours?”
“I just wanted everybody to know.”
Barry examined the underwear.
“Technically, based on decomposition and sun bleaching, those have probably been hanging there several years.”
Larry recoiled.
“WHY ARE YOU ANALYZING THE UNDERWEAR?”
“I’m establishing history.”
“STOP ESTABLISHING HISTORY!”
A loud metallic bang suddenly came from inside the house.
All three froze.
Garry moved closer to Larry.
“What was that?”
Larry stared at the house.
“Probably the plumbing.”
Barry shook his head.
“The water isn’t connected.”
Another bang.
Garry moved behind Larry.
“Probably the electricity?”
“No electricity either,” Barry said.
Another bang.
This time from upstairs.
Larry looked at Barry.
“You said the previous owner died.”
“He did.”
“And they found other bodies in the basement.”
“Correct.”
“So what is upstairs?”
Barry shrugged.
“Technically, none of the bodies were found upstairs.”
Larry stared at him.
“That’s not comforting!”
Garry whispered:
“Maybe they’re still looking.”
Larry grabbed a broken broom leaning against the porch.
“What are you doing?” Barry asked.
“Getting a weapon.”
“That’s a broom.”
“IT’S WHAT WE OWN!”
Garry picked up a toilet plunger from the yard.
“I got your back.”
Larry looked at the plunger.
“No.”
Garry raised it heroically.
“I call him Plungy.”
“No.”
“We’ve been through a lot together.”
“You found that seven seconds ago!”
Barry walked toward the door.
“Would both of you idiots relax? Old houses make noises.”
He grabbed the doorknob.
The entire front door fell forward and landed flat on the porch.
BANG.
Barry stared down at it.
Larry stared at Barry.
Garry stared at the doorway.
A raccoon stared back from inside the house.
Garry gasped.
“CLETUS!”
The raccoon screamed and ran deeper into the building.
Garry chased after it.
“CLETUS! YOU MADE IT!”
“GARRY!”
Larry ran inside.
Barry stepped carefully over the fallen door.
“Technically, that’s probably not Cletus.”
Inside, the house somehow managed to look worse.
The living room contained a stained couch with springs sticking through the cushions.
A crooked coffee table was held level by a stack of telephone books.
Wallpaper peeled off the walls in long strips.
An ancient ceiling fan turned slowly despite there being no electricity.
Larry stopped.
He looked upward.
“Barry.”
“Yes?”
“You said there’s no power.”
“Correct.”
“Then why is that fan moving?”
All three watched it.
Creeeeeeak.
Creeeeeeak.
Creeeeeeak.
Garry whispered:
“Ghost electricity.”
Larry immediately pointed at him.
“NO.”
Barry walked underneath the fan.
“Air current.”
“There is NO WIND!”
“Localized air current.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I don’t know.”
Larry sighed.
“Finally. Something intelligent.”
They continued toward the kitchen.
The refrigerator door was missing.
The oven door was missing.
Half the cabinet doors were missing.
There was, however, a handwritten note attached to the wall.
Barry read it aloud.
“DO NOT OPEN BASEMENT.”
Larry stared at him.
“That’s encouraging.”
Garry walked toward the basement door.
“Maybe there’s presents.”
Larry grabbed him.
“No.”
“Money?”
“No.”
“Pirates?”
“No.”
“Dead people?”
Larry paused.
Barry raised one finger.
“Statistically speaking…”
“SHUT UP, BARRY.”
Larry turned around and surveyed the kitchen.
For the first time since arriving, he became strangely quiet.
Barry noticed.
“What’s wrong?”
Larry rubbed his face.
“We spent all our money on this.”
“Yes.”
“We’re unemployed.”
“Yes.”
“Our truck barely runs.”
“Correct.”
“We apparently own a haunted garbage dump in a town where the dentist stuffs animals.”
Barry considered the situation.
“That’s a fairly accurate summary.”
Garry smiled.
“So we’re homeowners?”
Larry stared at him.
Garry spread his arms proudly.
“We made it!”
There was a long silence.
Then the kitchen ceiling collapsed.
A mountain of plaster, insulation and mouse droppings crashed directly onto Larry.
Barry jumped backward.
Garry blinked.
Only Larry’s boots remained visible beneath the debris.
Garry leaned toward Barry.
“Should we dig him out?”
Barry thought about it.
“Eventually.”
The debris exploded outward.
Larry emerged covered from head to toe in white dust.
His red hair stood even farther upright than usual.
His eyes were enormous.
“WE ARE SELLING THIS HOUSE!”
Barry pulled out his phone.
“That may be difficult.”
“WHY?”
Barry showed him the screen.
The real estate listing now displayed:
PROPERTY SOLD
NO RETURNS
Underneath was a new message from the agent.
THANK GOD
Larry screamed.
Outside, three crows launched themselves out of a nearby tree.
Garry smiled.
“I think the neighbors heard you.”
“We don’t HAVE neighbors!”
Garry pointed toward the front window.
The old man from the tavern was standing at the edge of the property.
Nobody had heard him arrive.
He stared at the house.
Then at Larry.
Then at Barry.
Then at Garry.
He removed his hat.
“You boys bought the Henderson place?”
Barry nodded.
The old man slowly put his hat back on.
“Good luck.”
He turned around and started walking away.
Larry ran onto the porch.
“WAIT!”
The old man kept walking.
“WHAT HAPPENED HERE?”
The old man stopped.
For a moment, he simply stared into the distance.
Then he called back.
“You’ll find out.”
Larry’s face went pale.
Barry smiled.
“Small-town charm.”
Garry waved enthusiastically.
“BYE!”
The old man disappeared down the road.
Larry slowly turned toward Barry.
“I am going to kill you.”
Barry pointed toward the basement.
“Get in line.”
Larry stared at the basement door.
Something knocked from the other side.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Nobody moved.
Garry slowly raised his plunger.
“Plungy says we should open it.”
Larry grabbed the basement door handle.
“Plungy says one more thing and he’s going in the garbage.”
Garry hugged the plunger protectively.
“He lives here too.”
“HE’S A PLUNGER!”
Barry folded his arms.
“Technically, he has contributed more financially than Garry.”
Garry looked offended.
“Plungy doesn’t even have a job!”
Larry’s face turned bright red.
“NEITHER DO YOU!”
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
All three looked at the basement door again.
Larry swallowed.
“Fine.”
He yanked it open.
Nothing jumped out.
No ghost.
No dead body.
No axe murderer.
Just a narrow staircase disappearing into darkness.
Garry peered around Larry.
“Maybe the ghost is downstairs.”
Larry looked back at him.
“Why would you say that?”
“I’m helping.”
“You have never helped.”
Barry stepped forward.
“That knocking doesn’t sound supernatural.”
Larry pointed downstairs.
“Great. You go first.”
Barry shook his head.
“No, Boss. You’re the leader.”
Larry stared at him.
“You only remember that when something might kill us.”
“Good leadership requires delegation.”
Larry shoved him lightly.
“DOWN.”
The three slowly descended the staircase.
The steps creaked under their weight.
Larry carried the broken broom like a spear.
Barry followed behind him.
Garry brought up the rear with Plungy held over his shoulder like a battle axe.
Halfway down, the knocking came again.
KNOCK.
Garry stopped.
“Plungy wants to go back upstairs.”
Larry whispered through clenched teeth.
“Plungy can go sit in the yard.”
Barry glanced at Garry.
“Technically, that would be easier.”
“BARRY.”
They reached the basement floor.
Larry froze.
Barry froze.
Garry walked directly into Barry’s back.
“Ow.”
One entire section of the basement wall was gone.
Not cracked.
Not damaged.
Gone.
A giant rectangular hole had been cut straight through the concrete foundation, opening directly into the backyard.
Cold wind blew through it.
A loose wooden board hung crookedly over part of the opening.
The wind pushed it inward.
KNOCK.
The board hit the concrete wall.
Then swung back.
KNOCK.
Larry stared at it.
Barry stared at it.
Garry stared at it.
The board swung again.
KNOCK.
Garry lowered Plungy.
“Oh.”
Larry exhaled.
“So THAT’S the knocking.”
Barry nodded.
“Apparently.”
Garry looked relieved.
“So it’s not a ghost?”
“No,” Barry said.
Garry smiled.
“Good. I don’t like ghosts.”
Larry stepped toward the giant hole.
Then he noticed faded spray paint on the wall beside it.
An arrow pointed toward the opening.
Above it were two words:
BODY REMOVAL →
Larry stopped breathing for a moment.
“Barry.”
Barry walked over.
“Yeah?”
Larry pointed.
“What. The heck. Is THAT?”
Barry studied the words.
“Ah.”
Larry slowly turned toward him.
“AH WHAT?”
“That must be where the EMS team removed the bodies.”
Silence.
Garry looked at the hole.
Then at the stairs.
Then back at the hole.
“Why didn’t they use the stairs?”
Barry glanced behind them.
The staircase was extremely narrow.
“Probably couldn’t fit them.”
Garry nodded thoughtfully.
“Fat bodies.”
Larry stared at him.
“Garry.”
“What?”
“Please stop helping.”
Barry stepped closer to the opening and examined the cut concrete.
“This actually makes sense.”
Larry whipped around.
“WHAT PART OF THIS MAKES SENSE?”
“The staircase is too narrow for a stretcher. So EMS probably cut through the foundation and extracted the bodies through here.”
Larry stared at him.
“So let me understand this.”
Barry nodded.
“We bought a house where there were so many dead people in the basement that the emergency crews had to CUT A GIANT HOLE IN THE HOUSE TO GET THEM OUT?”
Barry considered that.
“Technically, we don’t know how many trips they made.”
Larry’s eyes widened.
“THAT MAKES IT WORSE!”
Garry walked over to the opening and looked outside.
“Could make a nice patio.”
Larry turned slowly.
“A patio.”
“Yeah.”
Garry spread his arms.
“The door is already mostly done.”
“THAT IS NOT A DOOR!”
Barry crouched down and inspected the concrete.
“Actually, somebody already did most of the demolition.”
Larry pointed toward the spray-painted words.
“THE PARAMEDICS CUT THIS OPEN TO CARRY DEAD PEOPLE OUT!”
Garry nodded.
“So… free renovation?”
Larry closed his eyes.
Barry rubbed his chin.
“You know, Boss, with some framing and a sliding door, this could increase the resale value.”
Larry opened his eyes.
“We are not discussing resale value beside the BODY EXIT.”
Garry pointed at the writing.
“At least they labeled it.”
Larry stared at him.
“Why would that make me feel better?”
“So nobody accidentally carries a body into the laundry room.”
Barry nodded.
“That would be inefficient.”
Larry threw the broom onto the floor.
“I cannot believe I live with you two.”
The loose board swung again.
KNOCK.
Garry jumped.
Then glared at it.
“Knock it off.”
Barry looked at him.
“Did you just threaten a board?”
“It scared me.”
Larry started walking back toward the stairs.
“That’s it. We are selling this house.”
Barry pulled out his phone.
“That may be difficult.”
Larry stopped.
“WHY?”
Barry showed him the real estate listing.
PROPERTY SOLD
NO RETURNS
Underneath was a new message from the agent.
THANK GOODNESS
Larry stared at the phone.
Then at the hole.
Then at the words BODY REMOVAL.
Then at Barry.
“I am going to lose my mind.”
Barry pointed toward the opening.
“Well, at least they already have an exit.”
Garry raised Plungy.
“I can help carry him.”
Larry lunged at both of them.
Barry ran for the stairs.
Garry ran after him.
“WAIT FOR ME!”
“DROP THE PLUNGER!”
“PLUNGY IS FAMILY!”
The three idiots disappeared upstairs, yelling at one another.
Outside, the crooked SOLD sign swayed gently in the evening breeze.
GOOD RIDDANCE.
Below it, someone had apparently added another message while they were inside.
None of the three noticed it.
Not yet.
Written in fresh black marker were four words:
WELCOME TO LOOGANS BLUFF.
And beneath that: