“Who would put a fence around the Troian Center?” I asked.
“I think we need to get a closer look,” Journey said. “Let’s keep going.”
We continued moving forward watchfully, taking in the details of the fence. From this distance we couldn’t tell what it was made of, only that it was shaped into evenly spaced black bars. I shivered as it conjured images of prison cells in my mind. The fence was about eight feet high, with pointed tips that glimmered in the remaining sunbeams that managed to filter through the clouds.