He swung the green rambler off the opposite side of the road and threw it into ‘park.’ A deep silence had settled over the reservoir. He scanned the marshland. No movement. Though the sun had dipped below the horizon well over an hour ago, the air was stiflingly hot. Titus wiped his forehead with his sleeve and raised dusty binoculars to eye level.
The three-story building was snugly concealed within the tree line. It glowed like a pale jack-o-lantern through the visible humidity of the marsh. The perimeter was secured with two rows of chain link fencing and barbed wire. He couldn’t see any security guards, but he knew there were always at least seven on patrol, plus two watching from the tower.
Hank hadn’t told him what to look for. “Park it here,” he’d said, smudging Titus’s map with a greasy finger. “You’ll know when to make your move.”
Hank was infuriating. He delighted in ambiguity, relishing every opportunity to make things feel cinematic, which often came at great inconvenience. He always got the job done though, so Titus found it difficult to truly complain. He’d learned to roll his eyes, shut his mouth, and do whatever Hank told him. Still, Titus thought as he spat on the lens of the binoculars and wiped it clean, it sure don’t seem like Hank came through this ti–
A deep bass groan rumbled beneath the wetlands, sending goosebumps up Titus’s arms. He fumbled the binoculars and once more focused his attention on the massive facility. The lights, once white, were now a deep, pulsing amber. The sound erupted again, a terrible blend of grinding metal and the groaning of all creation.
A piercing scream rose from the locked building. Titus slowly lowered the binoculars and his lips parted into a broad smile, revealing yellowed, dead teeth.
Hank had been right. He knew now. It was time.
© Sophie Alexander, 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost without permission.
