“You sure we aren’t going to get into trouble, Josh? I mean, nothing about this seems okay.” Both boys were straddling their bikes, the toes of their tennis shoes touching the ground. Neither boy realized how far they rode. It was almost six miles to their houses. Josh and Will lived across the street from each other, growing up in the same classroom because they were the same age. Their birthdays were months apart, Josh a little younger than Will. Josh was the most outspoken of the two, which wasn’t a big surprise. His father was the president of the largest bank in Danville. His mother was the head of the PTA and sat on the board of multiple nonprofit organizations, working as one of the key board members of the Helping Hands Network. Their work was to ensure other nonprofits stayed solvent, funding a handful of other nonprofits without committing to a single cause. It was a fun way for Josh’s mother to lord it over all the other soccer moms with successful husbands.

                Will lived across the street with his truck-driving Dad. He worked hard so they had nice things, and Will’s mother did what she could to keep up with the other soccer moms, like Josh’s mom. Will’s mom worked two, sometimes three days a week in a floral shop. Her arrangements were sought from all over the country, so she was paid top dollar for her creativity, even if that meant that the likelihood of the flowers making it to their final destination alive was slim. Somehow, that never stopped New York, Chicago, and Orange County, California socialites from ordering her arrangements. She made the shop a lot of money but never worked hard. She loved the job but never told Will’s Dad her money was the reason for the nice things in their home.

                “Don’t you trust me,” Josh asked his friend? Josh knew they were taking a risk, a considerable risk. But great adventure comes at significant risk and sometimes an expensive fine. Neither of which mattered to Josh. The adventure? That was the best part! The feeling of fear in the pit of your stomach. That flushed feeling made your skin tingle. The very aspect of almost getting sick and then, at the last second, the rush hit you like a train. Like it or not, Josh was an adrenaline junkie. After high school, Josh would go on to college, starting a pre-med program only to move his career towards being an emergency medical technician or EMT. That suited him just fine. It was the perfect mix of action and sedation. But that wasn’t right now. Right now, Will was contemplating going inside. Josh wasn’t considering anything – he was moving toward the door that had no handle, hanging slightly ajar.

                “C’mon, you chickenshit. Just walk inside the door. You don’t have to go any further.” But even Josh knew he was lying to his friend.

                “It’s wrong, Josh. This,” Will said, pointing out the building, “Wait. This isn’t just any warehouse.”

                “Yes! And that is exactly why we’re going in,” Josh said, pulling Will along. “As usual, you’ll come kicking and screaming. But you know what? You will not regret this. . .Will.” Josh shoved Will hard inside, smiling as Will almost tripped over the door’s threshold. Good thing for Will; his catlike reflexes kicked in. It was what typically saved his ass from Josh’s shenanigans.                

                Now that both boys were inside the abandoned warehouse, the smell of dust, musty old wood, and newspapers filled Will’s nostrils. The only difference between the warehouse and Josh’s grandpa’s farm was the missing smell of wheat and moldy hay. Oh, that and the horse’s poop that overpowered every other scent in the barn. And Josh’s grandpa had fifteen horses. 

                Sunlight was absent from the massive warehouse. It was dark for an enormous space. The only light came from a few tiny windows thirty feet above the ground every fifteen feet. Josh knew nothing about warehouses. Most of his Dad’s work was inside an office building. Either he was working inside an office or conference room, traveling to another location where multimillion-dollar business deals were negotiated. Dressed impeccably meant Josh’s Dad wore the most expensive suits his seven-figure income could afford. In addition to his acquisitions at the bank, Josh’s Dad also ran three businesses that made money almost as fast as the mob was rumored to launder it. Not one company failed to make money. But Josh’s Dad was never home, just like Will’s.