CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
She stood frozen place, nearly biting her lip, but then, Sawyer's form went stiff... Then slumped. He lowered his g*n, pointing it towards the floor and reached up, wiping a forearm across his forehead.
“What is it?” she called.
“Chickens,” he called back.
Ilse wrinkled her nose and Sawyer bent over and reemerged, lifting a small cage, the size of a dog kennel. Except instead of canines, this kennel housed chickens. Three of them. By the looks of things, two were still sleeping, while one had been woken by their voices and was moving around on the metal floor, its talons scraping against the ground.
Sawyer cursed, lowering the kennel, carefully, and stowing it back behind the door. Some water sloshed from a drip nozzle onto his shoes, but he ignored it, shooting o
