Ah, you gotta be kidding me, I said as I stepped out of the transport vehicle, laying eyes on the house for the first time.

What's wrong, Ritter?

Lehman said with a laugh as he passed, slapping me on the back.

Too dirty for you?

Too dirty was an understatement.

The home, a two-story farmhouse style structure in rural New Jersey, was surrounded

by garbage. I'm talking a sea of trash that made it look like the house was floating in

the Great Pacific garbage patch. Much of it looked to be contained in black trash bags,

but many of those bags had deteriorated over months or years in the elements,

spilling their contents. Then there were random piles of loose trash around.

Ritter, let's move! Lieutenant Alonzo shouted. I could already feel my skin crawling, despite

having coveralls and a KN95 mask on.

We'd been told during our briefing that we might have to deal with some garbage,

but this was a hell of a lot more than some.

And everybody knew I was a germaphobe.

I felt my throat closing up, and my feet seemed to seal themselves to the ground while the rest of my team spread out to create a perimeter around the house.

Ritter, God damn it! Alonzo shouted.

I will write you up for insubordination if you don't move your ass.

Lehman hustled back over to me. I could tell he was no longer smiling under his mask.

Come on, man, he whispered, pulling me forward.

I went reluctantly and with the strange feeling that I was outside of my body.

But not in a good way.

...