I've had a pit in my stomach all day, a twisted kind of feeling that's making me sweat,

because something happened, something I've been dreading.

See, since I was 13 years old, this dark cancerous memory has lurked in the back of my mind. And last night, it finally came to the surface and sent me reeling to the point where I felt dizzy.

Here's what happened.

I was winding down, just ate dinner and was about to do that Tuesday night routine I told you about.

Popcorn, couch, and some horror flicks. But when I sank

into my cushions, I heard a ping from my phone. I recognized the tone as a news alert, and I almost

didn't check it. Because like I said, it was Tuesday. And if you're a fan of the show, you know Tuesday

horror nights are sacred.

But hearing that news alert triggered some kind of deep instinct.

And before I could stop myself, I reached out a hand to see what was what.

It was a notification for my hometown paper in Annapolis.

I have those set up to keep tabs on the place. Usually it's

local boring BS. But this headline took my breath away. Police found bones, human ones,

in the park near my childhood home. They'd been hidden in the creek there. The same creek where my friends

and I would spend hours, catching box turtles and talking about everything and nothing. The bones

were found inside a wooden shipping crate that was weighted down, so it sat at the bottom of the creek,

in the muck. The article said they've been there a long time, decades maybe, and the police didn't

know who they belonged to yet.

Yeah, the cops didn't know, but I did.

I did. You're listening to Run, fool.

I'm Rodney Barnes, and this is episode 82.

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