Sunday Photo Fiction 4-18-2018

156 05 May 15th 2016


“Skylark, come in Skylark.”

“Bluesky. Skylark.”

“Intelligence says the Grounders have…..” Awkward pause.  “Gone to ground.”

Joshua chuckled; keyed his mike.  “Understood, Bluesky.”

At the first junction of the Skylift, Skylark veered right, out of the city. The other patrol cars spread out in different directions, heading for their beats, radio chatter fading.

“Think we’ll see them today?”

“Better,” Josh replied. “Four more cars hit last night.”

Ten miles out, a figure stood out against the snow. Tall. Dark. Covered in mangy fur.

Josh headed diagonally left.  Heard Randy jack a round into the shotgun. Open the port window.

Some said the Grounders were once human, some said they were older than humans, but it didn’t matter. They were Grounders; they hunted and killed Skyfolk.

‘Back at ya!’ was the new slogan of The Force.

Randy fired and the creature fell. At the same moment, the snowscape exploded with Grounders, shooting up at their car. Randy screamed.

“Holy shit!” Joshua cried, reversing as fast as possible. “10-24! 10-24!”

The car exploded.

Back at ya, indeed.





























































































































































































































































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