The car trundled down the overgrown driveway, bringing the cabin into view.
“Well, that’s a shithole,” Greg said.
“I told you!” Mark exclaimed, slapping the seat in front of him.
“I don’t understand,” Jessica said. “The internet said it was a quaint, little cottage. Perfect for a weekend getaway.”
“I knew this was bad idea,” Mark whined. “We’ll never get back to that town before dark.”
Megan got out of the car.
“Let’s look around,” she walked towards the cabin. “Maybe there’s something we can salvage from this trip.”
“Like what?” Greg asked.
“Who knows? But beats just turning around.”