PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
The nondescript warehouses between the tracks and the hills had become a landscape feature over time. The county books listed it as abandoned; yet every year, like clockwork, the property taxes were paid.
Engineers on trains passing through at night saw flickering lights and sometimes caught what sounded like howls on the wind but figured it was coyotes.
Warehouse activity chugged to life around midnight and kept on until just before sunrise. Illegals, runaways, and the careless waited, strapped to gurneys. Those with money paid well for organs on the other side of the border. The tunnel made transport easy.
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the illuminating host of Friday Fictioneers.