Flash Fiction. Always pay the drifter.
"They think they don't have to pay Eddie because Eddie a drifter." He whispered to the box and left to collect.
Standing at the last house, he extended his fingernail and slid it through the window latch. Click. The window opened and he walked to the street. He placed the bone flute to is lips and played the enchanting music known to Pipers for all time. One by one, the children came out of their windows and cued in behind the Piper as he played his pipe leading them out of the town of Casper.
The 6:00 a.m. shift change at the Casper P.D. was routine and there were no more reports of coywolves. Then, the telephones lit up every button for incoming calls. Sgt. Johnston was called to the dispatch office.
"Sgt., we have floods of calls coming in on missing children."
"Take the calls and dispatch them out in order of receiving them. I'm going out on the road."
Sgt. Johnston drove to his home to check on his son and noticed footprints on the street paint where fresh lines were painted the evening before. He cringed. He looked up at his son's room and saw the window open. Jesus, we should have paid that homeless man, he thought. His weeping wife came running out the front door to him.
"I know. How could we choose just one child for payment?"
"Why are you home?"
"Calls are reporting all our children gone."
"I told you techno-surveillance wouldn't stop the supernatural. All of you are fools!"
Word count: 300