Fences Novels & Stories

Toward the back of the school where the football field sat empty and the track stretched in gray loops. "Where are we going?" I asked. "The fence." "What fence?" "The fence." She pointed. At the edge of the property where the asphalt turned to grass and the grass turned to weeds there was a chain link fence. Eight feet tall and rusted in places. "Why are we going to the fence?"

The door that Hinge grew is not a door you walk through straight. You have to turn sideways. Mara built the thorn hedge that way on purpose, and Hinge kept it, because Hinge remembers being wrapped in iron wire and knows that easy entrance is how you get trapped. I learn this when I bring the third convoy to Hinge Town and watch a family from the next valley try to enter. The father goes first, shoulders square, and the thorns catch his jacket. He frowns, tugs, then gets it. He turns his shoulders, slides through the gap, and laughs at himself on the other side.

} {You should inspect it, Host. "Huh…?" Curiosity flickered across her face. She stepped closer despite being tired, pushing aside vines and weeds. The fence revealed itself....rusted and sagging in places. But still standing and usable. Ding! {The barbed wire was installed years ago…} {Even like this, it still forms a boundary.} {If you reinforce it, it will become your first line of defense.} Ivy’s thoughts began racing. Monsters weren’t the only threat.

And I was merely an erased operative, a line of code deleted from black-budget ledgers a decade ago. I adjusted the signal strength on the primary perimeter array. The infrared cameras along the three-mile fence line displayed live, crisp feeds on my secondary monitor: Sector One (North Ridge)—clear; Sector Two (Timber Gate)—clear; Sector Three (Lake Approach)—clear; Sector Four (South Gully)—clear. The motion detectors registered zero movement except for a solitary red fox picking its way through the frozen ferns along the western boundary. A soft knock sounded against the thick timber doorframe.

Jacob replied. Soon, Isabella noticed an old abandoned, house far off in the distance, in desperate need for a new paint job. She shivered, as though, ice had replaced her spine. It looked like one of those haunted houses you saw in the movies. The cold air enveloped her entire body. The multiple layer of clothing could not protect against the deathly cold, and Samson tightened his hold on her. The walkway leading up to house were cracked. Weeds and dandelions poked out from these cracks. Vines formed a twisted maze upon the side of house, reaching their tentacles towards the roof. The house's walls showed black decay by neglect. Splotches of original paint hinted at the house former prosper

He needs something durable enough to crush zombies under its tires, something like the military-grade hummed. He drove around the fountain in front of the mansion and followed the road that most likely led to the gate of the property. He drove for about ten minutes to reach the gate. The gate was the steel dual swing type. They swing inward towards the property. High stone walls with electric fences at the top, undoubtedly to shock any intruder that may try anything.

“ I run around the backyard but never move” I read. “ Fuck what does it mean” Annabel shrieked out. We glance around find the meaning to the puzzle, “ wait, Fence” Abigail said “ what” we said confused “ It Fence I run around the backyard but never move”. We searched for a fence around us. “ there” I pointed. We checked inside the blocks, we saw the flag with a bag with it. We opened the bag, we saw another envelope in it, we opened it

Why? We pull up to a large wrought iron gate, with a small guardhouse on the inside. As far as I can tell, a twelve-foot high iron fence surrounds the whole estate. “It’s electrified,” the chauffeur says, and honks the horn. A warrior steps out of the guardhouse and opens the gate with a remote. We drive inside, only to be stopped by another gate and more security a few seconds later. I look over my shoulder at the gap between the fences. Wolves patrol the perimeter between the fences, their glowing eyes watching us suspiciously.

It is safe to say that they have put me through worse. The engine roars to life, making my heart race and the scenario starts to change through the window. My sinful family slides behind and a series of pine trees, then crossroads, then middle sized houses with small gardens come ahead. The sky looks bright and the sun rays glitter on the lake body in between the shade of more trees and bushes. The bricks and houses start to get less as the car moves forward, replaced by more greenery and clean roads. After, maybe, an hour or so, the scenario changes into an isolated road with greenery on both sides, but fenced with huge metallic rods, each having a sharp spear at the head. If anyone tries t

They were as tall as a six point five feet fence. At each corner of the fence were tall watch houses. Although one will expect to see everywhere pitch black in this type of forest, it was rather lighted—powered by Diesel generators. Around the gates were lights standing on a wooden stick, under a zinc used to protect it from the rain. In the compound was brighter and perfectly prevented people to easily catch the light.