PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook
The call came in the dark hours of the morning. Doctor Worthington drove in the pre-dawn winter mist to the abandoned train station.
He found Matthew waiting for him, grumbling as he looked about nervously, “Hurry, we don’t have much time.”
“Sorry. Came as soon as you called.” He tried to match Matthew’s brisk pace as they walked to a discarded carriage. They pried open the rusty doors. Inside, a corpse laid flaccidly on black plastic sheets on the floor. It still looked pink-fresh. Hours old maybe.
“You have ten minutes, doctor. Harvest everything.”
Talk about a side-hustle for this doctor!
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to submit your story.