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Summary
Surely… he hasn't been found already? He was so careful. Used a burner phone at a public library on a throwaway account so his internet activity couldn't be traced. This place wasn't even advertised like most air bnbs are these days. He found it through a seven month old craigslist post: an old shack in the woods. No working kitchen, but it came with a microwave and toaster oven for compensation. Zero running water but there's a well out back. Electricity? Hah. Try good old fashioned oil lamps. It was perfect. Totally off grid. Impossible to find. The perfect hideout.
Seven bus stops and several outfit changes later, he was certain he hadn't been followed.
Clink. Clink.
The rusty doorknob of the front door rattles loud enough to be heard from behind the closed door of his bedroom.
Fear, cloying and gripping, roots him to the bed. His scent spikes. Sours. Acrid on the tongue as acid.
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Chan believes he's finally escaped his past. It really is too bad when a certain someone catches up to him.