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- 53 -
It was dark, the moon hidden behind heavy clouds. But at least the rain had stopped.
Rodin crouched amongst broken roofing, perched on a stack of crates. From here, he could see along a couple of streets, as well as monitoring Eye feeds from the far side of the buildings opposite.
The area was a hodge-podge, long since abandoned residential buildings rubbing shoulders with small warehouses and workshops. Hence the crates, and the flat roof opposite—ideal for setting up the Eyes.
It had been a quiet shift, the only movement a mangy dog that could barely drag one of its rear legs. Rodin had considered putting it out of its misery, but he couldn’t leave his station. Anyway, he was settled, his body only aching occasionally. He was almost comfortable.
That comfort wasn’t only
