“The fence?” Taran waved dismissively, “Follow me, and I’ll show you.”
He led me back through the underground hallway, then through the greenhouse, to the streets outside, to an old church. Inside were several large monitors with live video feeds on them. “The animals monitor the fence, and call us when the Wraiths show up.”
This is Part 32 of the serial story I’m working on for Lisa McCourt Hollar‘s #55WordChallenge flash fiction challenge. Please, go read all the other entries in the challenge this week.
The entire story, from Part 32 to Part 1, is located here.
An old dog came through the door and stretched out on the floor beside the old woman, resting his chin between his paws, and I heard a voice, though no one spoke, “Your grandson, is here, Cynthia.”
As we started toward the trucks, I noticed a cat on the roof of the cabin, watching me. The man waved at the cat. “One of Taran’s friends, checking to see everything’s OK.”
My Soul's Tears 