Work In Progress: Screechers, Chapter 12
Starker had seen the girl.
Who she was, what she wanted, or why she felt the need to hide, he didn’t know. But he did know it smelled like vulture droppings and screecher corpse.
He also knew that something was wrong. Blessing had never closed its gates in the two years since Starker had started shipping to the isolated outpost. Nor had Blessing ever had such carnage after a screecher attack.
Starker cleared his throat and cupped his hands around his mouth. “I saw you up there! You can come out.”
The only answer was the wind whipping at his shirt. It carried more of the screecher rot up his nose. He gagged.
Then he tried again. “Listen, I saw you up there. You don’t have to talk to me, but could you at least open the gate?”
Still, no answer, and Starker was beginning to wonder if maybe he’d imagined the shock of dark brown hair and sun-reddened nose. Sighing, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried once more. “Please? I know you’re up there. If you won’t answer me and you won’t open …
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