In honor of Veteran’s Day tomorrow, a little something from my work in progress, The 13 of Hearts:
Rabbit slid the key into the padlock and turned it, then freed the hardened steel loop from the latch and pushed the pale blue door to his storage unit upward. He hadn’t been there in more than two years, and he had no idea where he’d stacked the box containing his family photos, but he sure hoped it was somewhere near the front of the locker. A line of dead insects about an inch wide marked the perimeter and Rabbit stepped over them, then turned around and used his foot to brush them off the low step to the ground beneath.
“Freakin’ stink bugs.”
The crunch of gravel beneath tires startled Rabbit and he fumbled the lock in his hand, cursing when it slipped from his fingers and bounced off his foot. He hadn’t realized anyone else was visiting the storage facility—not that he had any kind of exclusivity clause, but he’d thought he was alone save for the pimply faced kid in the office. The mid-sized silver sedan raised a cloud of dust as it passed from the north side of the parking lot. Tension squeezed his chest and Rabbit held his breath. Hugging the doorway, he stepped further outside and flicked his glance to the direction the car had come from. No other vehicles else approached. He whipped his head to the left, scanning along the gray block walls that made up his row in the storage facility as he did. No movement.
As he eased out a breath, the vise of anxiety loosened its grip around his chest. Okay, no more surprises.