see and hear almost everything, but the barn and outbuildings were too far away to watch without binoculars. They'd been spying on the farm for the better part of an hour now, and neither of them had seen anything more unusual than a particularly clumsy goat.
“What were they doing in there?” Donna asked. She leaned closer, as if that might give her a better vantage point.
The children came out in single file followed by three men Mark had never seen. The kids all wore their best clothes and marched straight up into the house.
Three other forms emerged from the garage. Mark stood to get a better view.
“Isn't that the Mackenzie's oldest girl?” he asked Donna.
“Yes, that's Bethany all right. I thought she was pregnant.” Donna stood up by Mark.
“Me too,” said Mark. He didn't mention he'd helped spread that rumor.
“And that's Tanner Johnson and Jasmine Lopez. What are all those kids doing here?”
The three older teens followed the strange men into the Gilbertson house.
Another man came out of the barn and began setting up bright metal poles around the house. He used a strange eyepiece every so often to check the placement of the poles.
“What on earth is he doing?” asked Donna. She ducked back down.
“Maybe I shoulda brought that foil,” said Mark.
Donna gave him a quizzical look and Mark went back to spying on the strange happenings at the farm.
The door to the home popped open and children of all sizes exploded back onto the front porch.
Ma Gilbertson shuffled out after them and pointed to the barn. “Go get a sheep! We can't do this without the sheep and each one of you needs one.”
The kids ran off to the barn and, one by one, reappeared either carrying or rustling a bleating animal. The older children held on to two.
Old Gil joined his wife to watch the children. His ridiculously yellow pants contrasted nauseatingly with her green dress. “Hurry now! We're running out of time to make the connection,” he called. “Get them to the field.”
Hand in hand the two older Gilbertsons hobbled down the steps and long path that led past the barn.
The man with the silver poles came up behind the children and began shooing the menagerie down the road.
“Think sheep love, everyone! Sheep love is what we're all about.”
He looked back at his silver poles one more time and paused, looking past them into the woods where Mark and Donna hid.
Mark ducked and hissed out a cuss word.
“Hey Greg,” the pole-man called. “Did we set any cameras in the woods over there?”
The long haired man from the black vans came out of the house and joined him. He squinted into the thicket where Mark and Donna crouched.
“No, why?”
“Because I think I see...”
Mark didn't wait to hear pole-man's answer. He grabbed Donna's hand and bolted down the footpath.
“Sheep love. They're going to make sheep love,” Donna repeated between gasps for breath.
“Don't talk. Just run.” Mark pulled her along behind him as quickly as he could.
The half-mile seemed to stretch on forever, and by the time they crossed the creek, Donna was wheezing and Mark had a stitch in his side. Neither of them slowed until they saw the old truck.
Chapter 8
Donna held on tight to anything she could grab as the truck bounced its way back down the dirt roads. Her lungs burned and side ached after the run through the woods.
She closed her eyes against the flashing trees and tried to make sense of what she'd seen, but it was all far too strange.
Too alien.
She shuddered at that word. Forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths, she replayed every scene in her mind until she tasted the dry road dirt on her tongue.
She closed her mouth with a snap and looked over at Mark. “Well... I... I just don't...”
“I know! I know!” Mark leaned heavily on the steering wheel, his eyes wide as they stared ahead at the road.
Donna looked around her, just now realizing how quickly the fence posts flashed in the truck's
“What were they doing in there?” Donna asked. She leaned closer, as if that might give her a better vantage point.
The children came out in single file followed by three men Mark had never seen. The kids all wore their best clothes and marched straight up into the house.
Three other forms emerged from the garage. Mark stood to get a better view.
“Isn't that the Mackenzie's oldest girl?” he asked Donna.
“Yes, that's Bethany all right. I thought she was pregnant.” Donna stood up by Mark.
“Me too,” said Mark. He didn't mention he'd helped spread that rumor.
“And that's Tanner Johnson and Jasmine Lopez. What are all those kids doing here?”
The three older teens followed the strange men into the Gilbertson house.
Another man came out of the barn and began setting up bright metal poles around the house. He used a strange eyepiece every so often to check the placement of the poles.
“What on earth is he doing?” asked Donna. She ducked back down.
“Maybe I shoulda brought that foil,” said Mark.
Donna gave him a quizzical look and Mark went back to spying on the strange happenings at the farm.
The door to the home popped open and children of all sizes exploded back onto the front porch.
Ma Gilbertson shuffled out after them and pointed to the barn. “Go get a sheep! We can't do this without the sheep and each one of you needs one.”
The kids ran off to the barn and, one by one, reappeared either carrying or rustling a bleating animal. The older children held on to two.
Old Gil joined his wife to watch the children. His ridiculously yellow pants contrasted nauseatingly with her green dress. “Hurry now! We're running out of time to make the connection,” he called. “Get them to the field.”
Hand in hand the two older Gilbertsons hobbled down the steps and long path that led past the barn.
The man with the silver poles came up behind the children and began shooing the menagerie down the road.
“Think sheep love, everyone! Sheep love is what we're all about.”
He looked back at his silver poles one more time and paused, looking past them into the woods where Mark and Donna hid.
Mark ducked and hissed out a cuss word.
“Hey Greg,” the pole-man called. “Did we set any cameras in the woods over there?”
The long haired man from the black vans came out of the house and joined him. He squinted into the thicket where Mark and Donna crouched.
“No, why?”
“Because I think I see...”
Mark didn't wait to hear pole-man's answer. He grabbed Donna's hand and bolted down the footpath.
“Sheep love. They're going to make sheep love,” Donna repeated between gasps for breath.
“Don't talk. Just run.” Mark pulled her along behind him as quickly as he could.
The half-mile seemed to stretch on forever, and by the time they crossed the creek, Donna was wheezing and Mark had a stitch in his side. Neither of them slowed until they saw the old truck.
Chapter 8
Donna held on tight to anything she could grab as the truck bounced its way back down the dirt roads. Her lungs burned and side ached after the run through the woods.
She closed her eyes against the flashing trees and tried to make sense of what she'd seen, but it was all far too strange.
Too alien.
She shuddered at that word. Forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths, she replayed every scene in her mind until she tasted the dry road dirt on her tongue.
She closed her mouth with a snap and looked over at Mark. “Well... I... I just don't...”
“I know! I know!” Mark leaned heavily on the steering wheel, his eyes wide as they stared ahead at the road.
Donna looked around her, just now realizing how quickly the fence posts flashed in the truck's
Similar Books
