I didn't blow up.
I used the front door for a couple of days, but the grill out back didn't explode. I don't know a ton about chemicals and stuff, but I figured it got cold enough to kill those assassin bugs from Star Wars, anthrax, or other chemical warfare. I hope.
Today I got the letter out of the grill. I laid it in the back seat and drove to a secluded park.
I made sure I wasn't being followed. Or at least, I tried to make sure no cars followed me. I'm sure the satellites can see me wherever I am. If they're going to detonate this letter bomb remotely, so be it. At least I'll be away from the house.
I opened up the letter.
No paper cuts, no white powder, no explosion.
The letter was handwritten (which I could totally analyze if was on CSI) and it said:
"We need to talk. Put this in [No. 1's] mailbox and we will make contact."
I sat in the parked vehicle for a while. I had a lot to think about.
Worst case scenario: they tell me to stop poking around the rusty door.
Actual worst case scenario: they kill me and have no witnesses.
Best case scenario: they pay for me silence and I live my life in luxury.
I drove back to the house and changed my mind about whether I would drop the letter in No. 1's mailbox a dozen times.
When it came time, I dropped the letter in the box, and closed the door.
No comments:
Post a Comment