Carefully, he climbed over the fence, snagging his hoodie on the way down. The warehouse was eerily quiet. Shafts of pale light streamed through holes in the roof, illuminating piles of rubble and rusting machinery. Elliot could hear Lucky’s soft whimpering somewhere inside.
“Lucky?” he called out, his voice echoing.
The whimpering grew louder. He followed the sound to a corner of the warehouse where Lucky was huddled, trembling, under a piece of sheet metal.Elliot crouched down again, speaking softly. “It’s okay, boy. I’ve got you now.”
This time, Lucky didn’t run. He let Elliot scoop him up, his small body warm and surprisingly heavy. “You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?” Elliot said, though he couldn’t help but smile.
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