The last of the afternoon light dwindled.
“I can’t spend another night in the dark,” Sarah said with a tremble in her voice.
“Hmm… I might know a way that we don’t have to,” Vince said. “Mr Saunders -”
“The man with the little dog?”
“The very same… He used to keep a jar of batteries… for the apocalypse.”
“He was the first to turn,” Sarah said.
“Long gone now.”
Minutes later, the group stormed the old man’s house. Only Mr Saunders was still there. His mutation had grown – aided by the alkaline in the batteries. None survived.
This post, as always, is towards the Friday Fictioneers prompt, and I have been provided permission for the above image through the challenge. The prompt is simple. Every week, Rochelle, our fearless blogger-leader, posts an image and you have 100 words to tell a complete story. Great community with great writers; it’s a lot of fun too! Come join in the fun! 🙂