Fowl mood: Hickory’s revenge
The Bandit drove fast. He gripped the steering wheel tightly and concentrated with a passion and focus that only comes when your loved ones are in danger.
It was dark by the time he got to Hickory Farms. He parked on the side of the road as close as he dared and traveled the remaining distance on foot.
He slumped down next to the Hickory Farms sign and gazed through his binoculars. The farmhouse loomed dark in the distance. It was quiet. Just one upstairs light on. He checked the guard doghouse. Empty. The Old Farmer must be taking the dog for a walk.
“This was the easy part,” he thought to himself as he slipped through the fence and headed toward the farmhouse, he would sneak in and rescue them. Foolish farmer, he probably hadn’t expected him to figure it out so quickly.
He was about halfway between the house and the fence in the middle of an open field when it hit him like a bucket of gravy. It was a trap.
The Bandit turned and ran as fast as he could. In the distance he could hear shouting and he knew that the farmer had just released the dogs.
To be Continued...