By the time Arrin reached the building, he was soaked from the knees down and every muscle in his body ached in addition to all of his other miserable symptoms. He’d never been this ill before. He attributed it to the loss of his spleen on Barumi, for which he cursed the Council, and Pastor Willis in particular.

When he at last pushed through the door of the men’s room, a welcome blast of warm air hit his face. He cursed again. He could’ve slept in here last night instead of in his cold SUV, if only he’d taken the time to check it out. He hadn’t even thought to do so, however, for in his experiences with these places thus far none of the restrooms were heated.

He’d finished his ablutions and was preparing to make the somewhat less difficult trek...

Please subscribe to keep reading.