Prompt: Miss Penny Boards the Contemporal

Penny yawned and closed the accounting ledger, tidying her desk before she rose and shrugged into her winter coat and gloves. Mr. Wilson hired her as a favor to Grampa Kinneson, seeing as the two of them had been together at Belleau Wood, and she tried her best to let him know how much she appreciated the work.

Locking the library doors, Penny tucked the key into her coat pocket and looked up and down the dark main street. Grampa and Gramma Kinneson were up in Beaufort for the weekend, so she had no car. “Don’t be a sissy, Penny. It’s only three miles, and the moon is bright. Buck up, girl,” she encouraged herself as she headed down the road toward home.

She hesitated at the crossroads between the Jones and Richardson properties. It was nearly twenty minutes shorter to cut through the Jones’s cornfield, but she never liked walking between the towering stalks. Looking up at the moon, she whispered, “Keep me company,” and cut into the field. Clouds rolled in, covering the moon’s light, and Penny sighed.

Bright lights and a roaring sound flew over her head, and she dropped to the ground. It wasn’t a crop plane, she was sure of it. Hot wind blew through the stalks and swept over her. She shrank closer to the ground until it passed. The roar dulled, but she could still hear it, almost like a train at the station. Then men’s voices. Lights sweeping through the corn stalks. Penny was in no mood for boys’ games. She stood up, indignant and angry, and brushed off her coat. “Benny Jones, you better not be shooting out here at night!” she called out. The voices stopped, and she suddenly reconsidered the wisdom of announcing herself.

A man grabbed her from behind, clamping his hand over her mouth. “Hush, lady. I’m not gonna hurt you.” Penny bit into his fingers and stomped on his boot. He jerked his hand away with a curse, and she pulled away, but he jerked her arm and swung her around. “Lady, I’m tryna save your life. Don’t make me change my mind,” he growled.

“Save my life?” She retorted indignantly.

Without answering, he pulled her with him and tapped a wire against his head. “Jones says she’ll destabilize in 20. Time to go!” he barked. Was that some sort of radio?

Continued in Part 2…

Dogs in House	Houdini, Brindle
Music	The Frey, youtube.com mix
Time writing	1 hour, including research
May word count	4,896