It was early Spring when they first found the barn. While hiking in the woods, they discovered it in a well hidden clearing not far from their own house. It was red with large, white-trimmed doors and a mass of vines coating the walls that snakes up to the roof.. With some effort Monroe heaves open the door and squints into the darkness. Geoffrey nudges him and says, “Go on.” The other, lankier boy scowls at his stout, red-headed companion. “I thought we were going in together?” he said. “We are,” said Geoffrey, “but you’re taller.” Monroe rolled his eyes, but took the lead. The small flashlight he carried glowed dimly in the surrounding black. From what he could make out, the barn seemed quite common. Farming equipment lined the walls, rusted from the years. Monroe knelt in front of an old truck. “There’s a hatch here.” he said. Geoffrey came closer and peered over his brother’s shoulder. “What do you think is down there?” Monroe shook his head. “All I know is, it’s your turn to go first.”