Line after line of freight cars filled the space under the bridge, a maze of towering boxes, waiting to move. She drifted through them, light on her feet, trying not to make a sound. Each time she passed between cars, she knew she might see her pursuer’s bloodshot eyes staring at her across the tracks.
There was a loud groan and the crane swept down upon her like an eagle. She barely had enough time to recognize what it was before it hit her like a brick, knocking her unconscious, and scooping her up in its metal talons.
Word Count: 98
This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and C.E. Ayr for providing the prompt photo!