Barbara Karmazin - Blackbird 2 - Out of the Dark

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Out of The Dark
Barbara Karmazin
Published 2004
ISBN 1-59578-023-8
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr,
Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2004, Barbara Karmazin. All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Liquid Silver Books
http://lsbooks.com
Email:
raven@lsbooks.com
Cover Art
byLaura Givens
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s
imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or
dead, is completely coincidental.
Dedication:
This dedication is to all of my wonderful critique partners: Sable, Shake, Janet, Ruby, Spring Rain,
Kayelle, Terri and Flo. Without your help and encouragement through countless revisions of Cait's
continued adventures I never would have completed OUT OF THE DARK. Thank you ladies.
Chapter One
In the close quarters of the ambulance ship, the discordant repetitive blare of the emergency alert rattled
Indio's teeth. He rolled over in his bunk and unhooked the Velcro-fastened safety webbing. The next
blast stopped in mid-blare. Tiny must have slapped the shut-off switch.
With a grateful sigh for small favors, Indio grabbed the selkieskin sack from the wall hook, untied the top
and tilted it in the direction he wanted the symbiotic spacesuit to go. The selkieskin oozed out onto the
floor like an oversized blob of black gelatin. Except this blob was alive, felt like warm velvet against his
skin and had a limited ability to move and link with his body.
Indio stepped onto his selkieskin and waited while it flowed over his body and inserted pseudopods into
his body's orifices. A quick brush of his hands over the selkieskin when it got to his neck halted it until he
was ready to pull it over his face. He used the Velcro straps on the wall and hauled himself hand over
hand to the control console.
Tiny sat in the pilot's seat. Red and blue swirls flickered across his matte black selkieskin. Indio grinned.
Most people who didn't know Tiny always did a double take the first time they saw him wearing a
selkieskin because Tiny's natural skin color was so dark, you couldn't tell at first where his skin ended
and the selkieskin began.
Tiny flipped the microphone switch. “Got it. Code Six Three Nine in sector green.”
Indio slipped into the co-pilot's seat. The safety webbing deployed itself and secured him for flight.
Hopefully this would be a simple run with no casualties involved.
Tiny leaned forward and opened the mike again. “EMS Five Seven ready to go. Now.” He pressed the
override control button for the Traffic Control computer to take over and sat back.
Indio took a deep breath and sat back too. He hated this part. It didn't feel right having Traffic Control
do all the piloting by remote command while they sat there.
The engines engaged. A heavy three-g thrust slammed them against their seats like a giant's hand
pressing against their bodies. Indio gritted his teeth against the pressure and spoke. “What do we have?”
The ship lurched sideways and then leveled out under them. Tiny grimaced at the sudden change in
course. “A private yacht got holed. It's in lunar orbit right now. Four wounded, three dead and two
able-bodied ready to evacuate.”
Indio nodded as best as he could under the sickening twists and turns of their craft. “How many other
ambulances did they call up?”
Tiny flashed him a sardonic grin. “Three. You know how it is. The high rollers get full service.”
Indio snorted. “And at the end of our shift too.” He closed his eyes. If they were lucky, they'd finish this
job without having to go past their shift schedule. Two more hours and they'd be with Cait for another
long, glorious weekend. Just thinking about her sexy smile gave him a raging hard-on. Too bad bigamy
was illegal or they'd be a happily married triple instead of a plain old ‘ménage à trois.’
The console beeped. “EMS Five Seven stand by for grappling hooks. All living evacuees accounted for.
Your job designation is now Code Seven Two.”
Tiny reached over to the control panel, uncapped the switch for the magnetic-tipped grappling hooks
and deployed them. The hooks shot out, connecting them to the disabled ship while computerized arms
reeled them in as close as possible.
Indio slapped the release button on his chair. The safety webbing retracted itself. He pulled at the top of
the selkieskin bunched around his neck and let it flow over his face. Thin, flexible pseudopods inserted
themselves into his mouth, nostrils and ears. Oxygenated air, converted by the symbiote from the water
pouch on his back, flowed into his lungs.
The skin sealed itself over the top of his scalp, inserted even smaller pseudopods into his eye sockets
and linked its eyes directly to his. His eyesight shifted. Now he could see up into the infrared spectrum
along with his normal vision.
Indio turned. Tiny had pulled the rest of his selkieskin over his face too. He looked like an alien
creature—coal black with huge dark eyes in a face that had no mouth, nose or ears.
Indio unlatched the supply drawer, pulled out two equipment belts and handed Tiny one. He pointed at
the ship's view screen recorder and flipped the switch for the exterior searchlights. Not having a mouth to
speak with while wearing the selkieskins had made sign language a very popular course of study
station-wide. Learning how to sign was a small price to pay, though, in return for all the pluses of wearing
a selkieskin for space maneuvers.
Indio fastened his belt around his hips and signaled that he'd go first. Tiny nodded and buckled his belt.
With three other ambulances already on site, Code Seven Two meant his and Tiny's roles had been
switched to forensics. Apparently, Traffic Control had taken the fact that Indio was a police officer into
consideration while monitoring the entire rescue and evacuation mission.
Indio reached up to the Velcro straps hanging from the ceiling and pulled himself hand over hand to the
airlock. Tiny would be right behind him. The lock cycled open. They swam inside, grabbed more Velcro
straps on the wall and held on while the door closed itself behind them and the ship removed all the air
from the cramped compartment.
A green light flashed over the exit door. It cycled open. Indio kicked off from the wall, snagged the
grappling line and hauled himself down.
Earth's sunlit crescent wheeled in the background, a blue jewel in the black sky. The cold white light of
the moon glowed behind the gutted ship. Indio ignored the view. They had plenty of time off-duty for
sightseeing.
The yacht was an elongated ovoid, which was dictated by the need for shielding versus the need to
mount engines in the rear. The bow, which should have been a round blunt shape, had a crumpled tear in
its side. Fused and melted metal radiated out from the point of impact. Non-explosive as far as he could
see from this distance. The tear had the classic deformation and damage ratio of a good-sized meteorite,
possibly the size of a baseball. Streamers of hardened white foam sealant flowed from the gaping
wound—ten seconds of critical time would be used before it filled the gap and prevented explosive
decompression of the yacht.
Too bad they hadn't yet figured out how to attach individual solar flight wings to the selkieskins. Direct
flight, using the solar wind to maneuver, would be a lot easier than hauling himself hand-over-hand along
the tether lines hooked to the yacht from bow to stern.
He risked a quick glance over his shoulder. Tiny was busy clamping a modified camcorder below the
largest searchlight. Right. They needed a double record—distance and close up—of the damage for the
insurance claims investigators. Indio pulled himself along. The yacht's hull inched closer. The entry hole
loomed jagged and ugly. Minute particles of ice drifted from the edges of the frozen sealant at the
shattered bow. With his selkie vision, they looked like snowflakes falling from the ship into the black sky.
Indio unclipped a smaller digital camcorder from his belt and carefully recorded every inch of damage
caused by the meteor. He clipped the camcorder to his belt again and turned his head sideways. Tiny
was hauling himself to the yacht's open airlock.
Indio shifted his grip on the tether line and grabbed onto the handgrips on the side of the yacht. The grips
were normally used by the crew for emergency repairs while still in flight status. From this angle, it felt like
he was climbing a ladder up the side of the ship to the airlock entry.
When he came to the hatch, he boosted himself inside as if he were climbing out of a swimming pool.
Tiny grabbed his hand and pulled Indio to his feet inside the airlock. He held up a message cube. Indio
accepted it and studied the interior diagram of the yacht glowing within. A bright red X marked the third
door on the left side where the two casualties of today's accident awaited his inspection and professional
judgment as to probable cause of death. After they'd bagged and transported the bodies to the Station
Hospital, an autopsy would determine the actual cause of death.
Tiny clipped a searchlight to the ceiling and turned on a second camcorder. A floating conglomeration of
frozen debris hanging in mid-air in the corridor gave them an instantaneous portrayal of the meteor's path
through the interior. The minute gravitational attraction of the bits of rubble had pulled them into clusters .
Indio launched himself down the corridor to the door of the third stateroom. His gait was a unique
adaptation of free-fall and weightlessness. He used gentle thrusts of his feet and hands against deck, wall
and corner—a slow-motion swim through the airless hallway.
He stopped his momentum at the third door and rested his hand on the entry panel. It glowed bright
green and then the door slid open. Two bodies lay tangled on the floor beside the bed: a naked man and
woman frozen forever in their last frantic attempt to end their sexual embrace and don their bulky
spacesuits.
Selkieskins might have saved them, but they didn't have that option. They'd run out of time to save
themselves. Hell, when the Columbia shuttlecraft disintegrated upon re-entry sixty-three years ago in
2003, the entire incident happened in only fifteen seconds from beginning to end.
Indio unclipped his camcorder and recorded the couple from every angle. Tiny waited in the doorway
with two green body bags. A few more minutes and they'd be headed back to station. A tow ship would
show up in another hour and haul the yacht to the station for a complete forensics exam.
Cait would never die like this. His daughter Socorro would never die like this either. Cait and Socorro
had first claim on the symbiotes because they had discovered the abandoned cache of selkieskins on the
asteroid expedition three months ago.
* * * *
Indio leaned over the countertop at the Orbital Police Station, pressed his palm against the ID panel, slid
the data card into the slot, then hit the send key on the computer console and downloaded his report into
the police files. His part in today's accident was over for now.
He turned, nodded at the police desk sergeant on duty and exited through the frosted plastic door onto
deck two. A woman in an indigo uniform with silver belt and boots entered the other end of the corridor.
She wore her dark blond hair pulled back into a severe bun, and the logo for United Planets Security
Forces glittered at her collar. Indio shifted the duffel bag that contained his selkieskin to his right shoulder
and kept walking.
Her gaze skittered away from the old burn scars ridging the left side of his face. Bright red spots flared
on her cheekbones. “Are you Edelmiro Jesus Santiago de Arroyo?”
He stopped. What the hell did she want with him? Or rather, what the hell did the United Planets
Security Force want with him? “I am.”
She handed him an old fashioned sealed white envelope, held up a sofscreen computer and pointed at
the one centimeter-square glowing in the corner. “Place your thumb on the grid to verify receipt, please.”
* * * *
Tiny waved an envelope at Indio, crumpled it up in his hand and jammed it into his jeans pocket.
“They're out of their fucking minds.” He slammed his fist against the elevator wall. A satisfying boom
shook the cubicle. “What the hell do they think they're doing, trying to place an injunction against the
usage of selkieskins?”
Indio shrugged and leaned against the wall. Like it or not, they had been subpoenaed. They had no
choice but to obey the court order and testify about the selkieskins at the Interplanetary Trade Council
meeting thirty days from today. The elevator moved smoothly to the next level. “I bet Cait received a
subpoena too.”
Tiny swiped his hand across his bald scalp. “And I bet she's pissed off.” A grin twitched at the corners
of his mouth.
Indio chuckled. If Cait was pissed off, then she needed both of them to calm her down. “More than
likely, she's already waiting at the apartment for us.”
* * * *
Indio sat on the bed and pulled off his shirt and pants. His swollen erection jutted up between his thighs,
thick and hard. Tiny sat on the other side of the bed, equally naked, equally aroused. His coal-black skin
looked like onyx against the white sheets. He stroked his hand up and down his thick shaft, pleasuring
himself.
Cait paced back and forth between them, naked. Energy simmered within the lush curves of her body. A
thick five-strand braid confined her hair. Her heavy breasts and rounded ass caught Indio's gaze while
her braid slapped the backs of her thighs with every step she took. “They're idiots.” She curled her hands
into fists. “We only have six hundred selkieskins. What the hell are they afraid of? Unfair competition?
We'd need millions of selkieskins before we'd put the spacesuit manufacturers out of business. We're still
trying to figure out how to make more of them in the lab.”
Indio shrugged. They'd cross that bridge when it happened. “We don't have any choice but to obey the
subpoena. They can't file an injunction against the selkieskins until after the hearing.” He smiled and
stroked the hard length of his erection. “Right now, we have better things to do.”
Cait stopped and looked Indio over from head to toe. She didn't flinch at the scars that ridged his face,
his left arm and leg. There was only arousal in her gaze. Her nipples were hard and ready for sucking.
Moisture already saturated the curls of her pubic mound.
He stood. Tiny rose to his feet too. They went to her and held her close, sandwiched between them
front and back. Indio moved his hardened shaft against the soft wetness of her crotch. He knew Tiny was
already rubbing his cock between the crack of her buttocks. With Cait's stature of five-nine versus Tiny's
height of six-six, all she had to do was lean back and tilt her head to exchange kisses with him when he
stood behind her.
No need to talk anymore. Just kiss and feel the heat of her arousal ricochet from her into him, to Tiny
and back into her again. The unique mental link of their triple dru-bond joined them into one entity
whenever they touched body to body like this. Their dru-bonds sealed them into a telempathic link that
allowed Indio to feel her excitement and Tiny's excitement all mingled together in his mind. It made him
throb with need. Over and over, the bonds pulsed between the three of them, creating an instantaneous
feedback loop of mutual desire and pleasure.
Indio went to his knees, parted her thighs, inserted his tongue past the wiry curls of her crotch and tasted
the creamy moisture of her arousal. Cait groaned and pushed against his tongue. He licked her clit to a
hard little peak. When she leaned into his mouth for more, he sucked it even harder. His erection
throbbed in unison with her soft mews and the eager thrusts of her hips while she ground herself against
his tongue for more.
Indio glanced up. Tiny was busy too, muffling her groans with tongue-tangled kisses, kneading her
breasts and pinching her nipples with his big hands, increasing her arousal to a fever pitch. After three
months of making love with them every day, her body was more than ready to handle both of their cocks
at the same time.
She opened her legs wider. Indio pushed his fingers into her while she bucked her clit against his tongue,
crying out with pleasure, suspended in joy between him and Tiny. He sucked harder, deepened the
strokes of his fingers inside her pussy and matched the even thrusts of Tiny's fingers in her anus. Her
moans cascaded into a keening wail while they drove her to her first climax, a climax that shuddered
through their empathic dru-bonds with her and made their cocks jump and throb for completion.
Moving easily, from long hours of practice with her, they changed positions. Indio stood behind her
while Tiny picked her up in his arms and impaled her in one glorious rush on his erection. She wrapped
arms and legs around Tiny's neck and waist. Shivers raced up her body when Indio spread her buttocks
apart, coated her anus with lubricating gel then inserted the engorged head of his erection.
Tight.Cait's anus felt so tight around his cockhead.Tight, warm and ready for him to bang her good.
He slid his cock inside, inch by inch, groaning when she relaxed and accepted the entire thick length of
him inside her.
They moved slowly at first, guiding themselves in and out. Tiny thrust his penis deep inside her from the
front. Pleasure shuddered through her at the sensation of Tiny's cock grinding against Indio's through the
thin wall of tissue that separated them inside her and rocketed back across her dru-bonds into both men.
In and out they pushed, harder and harder, deeper and deeper. Their cries of pleasure echoed each other
and climbed to the next peak.
Cait shuddered. Her body spasmed between them. She screamed. Her body milked them dry while her
climax exploded across their empathic link.
Indio felt Tiny slamming into her from the front while he pistoned into her rear entrance. Indio released
long, wet jets of semen into her and felt the erratic spasms from Tiny releasing more semen deep inside
her from the front.
Love, total love and acceptance, soared across their dru-bonds, filling them with warm satisfaction and
contentment. A long, eternal moment of pure completion joined the three of them into one entity.
The insistent ringing of the vidphone brought them back to reality. Indio pulled his still-turgid cock from
Cait's ass, grabbed a towel from the bed and wrapped it around his hips. Tiny lifted her from his cock
and set her on the bed. Cait grabbed a robe and hurriedly belted it while Tiny covered his hips with the
other towel.
Indio grinned. Now that they were decent, he pushed the button to accept the call. The viewscreen
shimmered to life and showed them an image of Cait's brother, Kevin. Black-haired and dark-eyed, you
couldn't tell by looking at him that he was her twin. Cait had calico hair, a gorgeous mélange of copper,
gold, brown and black, and hazel eyes—eyes that changed color with her moods.
Kevin leaned forward and peered into his side of the viewscreen. Humor glinted in his dark gaze at their
attire. “Sorry about the interruption. I got a subpoena a couple of minutes ago and was calling to warn
you about it.”
Cait lifted her braid from the back of her robe and let it fall down her back. “We got our subpoenas
already. I want you to make reservations on tomorrow's shuttle. We might as well go to Earth now and
see what's going on dirtside before we show up for that hearing.”
Kevin nodded. “What about Socorro?”
Indio slid his arm around Cait's waist and pulled her against his side. “I'll call the station school and
complete all the paperwork for her home schooling coursework. We're not leaving my daughter behind.
Reserve a seat for her, too.”
Cait leaned closer and brushed her lips across his forehead. “You're right. There is no need to separate
her from her family while we respond to this subpoena. Your daughter is my daughter now.”
Chapter Two
Cait took Socorro by the hand and pulled the child aside. They moved away from the baggage
inspection zone to stand beneath a huge holoimage of the United Planets' Enclave floating in the middle of
Lake Michigan. Too many people surrounded her at O'Hare Spaceport. Their discordant emotions
scratched at her empathic senses like fingernails on an old fashioned chalkboard.
A pair of tourists hurried past. The control chips on their belts emitted a series of blue flashes. Six
automated suitcases followed the man and woman like ducklings.
Socorro's brown braids bounced on her shoulders while she placed the pet carrier on the floor in front
of the holoimage. She radiated a calm sensibility and maturity for her nine years. “Will we have time to
take a tour?”
Cait shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe.” She turned sideways. Her twin Kevin stood in the customs line
with her two husbands. The tension coiled within her loosened its grip. A few more minutes and they'd all
be together again.
She smiled at Tiny. It was hard to miss him. Bald-headed, two-and-a-half meters tall with skin so dark
he could have been carved from coal, he stood out in any crowd. He stepped up to the countertop,
duffel bag in tow and loomed over the customs agent like an avenging warrior. His demeanor was better
suited to a ravaged battlefield than a bustling spaceport.
Socorro squatted beside the carrier and peered inside. A mournful meow greeted the child's scrutiny.
“Licorice's tired of being cooped up too. She wants me to let her out.”
“We'll let her out later when it isn't so crowded,” Cait murmured. She shifted her attention to the
customs agent and shook her head. Stringy brown hair clung to his scalp like a spiderweb. Why he
couldn't keep his hair clean? Were they rationing water on Earth now?
Indio propped his hip against the counter in front of the custom's agent and waited patiently for the line
to move. Tall and lean with old burn scars on his face, he looked like a hardened criminal instead of a
cop. He should be standing here with his daughter Socorro, but coach tickets had placed them on
opposite ends of the shuttlecraft.
She dredged up a reassuring smile for Socorro. “Your daddy and Tiny will be finished soon.”
Socorro's gaze grew even more distracted. She slipped her hand into Cait's and whispered. “They have
selkieskins in their luggage. Won't they get in trouble?”
Cait blinked. The child was right. Their discovery of the skins on the asteroid had caused an
interplanetary uproar. She and Socorro had opted to leave theirs in storage at Sanctuary Station.
She turned around again. Her husbands had just placed their luggage on the counter. They should have
left their selkieskins behind instead of bringing them dirtside, but there was no reasoning with men.
Stubborn and capricious in their logic, they had decided to keep the valuable biological spacesuits in their
possession.
The agent gestured for them to open their luggage. They looked at each other and shrugged. With a flick
of their wrists they unzipped the bags, turned them over and spilled the contents on the countertop.
Two selkieskins oozed out from the stack of clothing—two quivering masses of dark plasma.
Shimmering moiré streaks of iridescent reds, blues and greens rippled across their black surfaces in
random pulses.
The agent puffed his potbellied paunch out to its fullest extent and poked his finger at one of the skins.
“Wait! Don't touch it!” Indio and Tiny shouted.
The skin rippled and oozed over the agent's hand. He staggered backwards while the selkieskin flowed
relentlessly past his elbow. His fear slammed into Cait like a punch in her gut. Being a telempath was a
painful nuisance at times. She needed to get away from everyone and reset her mental shields.
Indio stepped behind the agent. He wrapped his arms around the terrified man and held him still while
Tiny reached out with his gloved hands and peeled the selkieskin off.
“They're bio-engineered symbiotes, legally registered as artificial life-forms at the Space Station
Sanctuary.” The distinctive sound of Indio's raspy voice rose above the muted murmur of arrivals and
departures coming from the ceiling loudspeakers.
A second customs agent, her dreadlocked hair tied back into a bushy ponytail, stepped up to the
counter. She held her body very stiff and kept her distance while Tiny and Indio let the selkieskins slither
back into their bags. “I heard about those things on last night's news. May I see the customs clearance
vouchers from Sanctuary, please?”
Indio released the first agent, patted him on his arm, then pulled a coded chip from his belt and handed it
over.
The woman inserted it into the sofscreen wrapped around her left wrist. Her co-worker stared at the
information scrolling up on the sofscreen. “It functions as a spacesuit? How?”
Explaining that would take them forever. Cait raised her arm and pumped it three times to catch her
brother's attention. Kevin looked up and smiled at her. She pointed at the ped-walks. He nodded and
motioned at her to go on ahead.
She took Socorro by the hand. The guys didn't need her here to handle the customs agent. What she
needed to do was get Indio's daughter settled into their hotel room and wait for the others to catch up.
“Let's go.”
Trade Commission delegation walked past the customs area without their luggage being searched,
drawing a swarm of newsvid reporters waving mikes and vidcams and yelling questions.
Socorro yanked her hand away and tried to see past the reporters. “Where are we going? Isn't Daddy
coming with us?”
“I already let Kevin know we're leaving. He'll tell your father and Tiny. We'll meet them at the hotel.”
“Okay.” Socorro adjusted the backpack over her shoulder and picked up the pet carrier. The kitten
yowled but the little girl ignored its protests.
The back of Cait's neck tingled. She turned sideways. Two dark featured men lounged beside the
newsstand. Their hostile gazes slid past her to the United Planets delegation. Even though she wasn't the
focus of their attention, they still made her skin crawl.
It was just nerves. She was jumping at shadows.
Cait straightened her shoulders. Her first priority was Socorro's safety and the best way to keep the
child safe was to leave this crowded area as soon as possible.
They made their way over to the ped-walks. She chose the one on the end because it was vacant. She
didn't want anyone to come close enough to touch her or Socorro. They stepped onto it and let it carry
them down a long tiled corridor.
Socorro tugged at her sleeve. “After we meet the rest of your family, are you and daddy and Tiny going
to get married?”
The confused emotions swirling around inside Socorro gnawed at Cait's empathic senses. She hesitated.
Was Socorro's emotional turmoil the real reason behind her uneasy feelings about the crowded terminal?
Cait rubbed the tiny laser scar on her right arm. Socorro wasn't her daughter but the dangers they'd
faced together on the asteroid had forged an emotional link between them. Talking this out should soothe
them both. “According to the customs of my people, we're already married.”
Socorro's shoulders sagged.
Poor kid. All she knew was that they'd hadn't had a proper wedding ceremony yet.
“My family will have a big party to formally recognize our marriage and…” Cait let her voice trail off into
a tantalizing promise.
Socorro bounced on her heels with excitement. “And what?”
“Do you know what the word cater-corner means?”
Socorro frowned and wrinkled up her forehead with concentration, then lifted her finger in the air and
traced a diagonal line. “It's the corner at the end of a slanted line.”
Cait touched Socorro's cheek and sent the child a burst of reassurance. “In my family, we have a special
relationship called caterkinship. There's a ceremony that goes with it. We fast for one day and go out into
the forest. While we wait for the night to turn to day, we pledge catermorf with moonlight, starlight and
silver. Would you like to become my caterdaughter?”
Socorro's pupils grew larger and changed her green eyes to almost black. Wonder filled her face and
flowed into Cait. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
Cait smiled. Socorro would be the first daughter of her sisterline. “I want this too. When we arrive at my
home in North Carolina, we will take this oath.”
Happy anticipation brightened Socorro's face. The ceiling soared above them while the ped-walk
carried them into an underground parking garage. Cait sucked in her breath. The cavernous space
clawed at her senses.
It felt wrong.All wrong.She'd let her instincts overrule her common sense. Safety was above.Not here.
She studied the ped-walk. There weren't any controls for her to reverse it. She gnawed at her lip. There
should be another exit.
The sudden clang of metal on metal reverberated throughout the garage. Cait whirled around and shoved
Socorro behind her. A stout woman with short, white hair stood in front of a recycling bin about fifteen
feet away from them.
Dirt smeared rags covered the woman's stocky frame. She dumped a load of old computer wafers from
her motorized shopping cart into the container and the machine spat a credit chip into her hands.
They approached the woman. “Excuse me, ma'am.” Cait said softly. “We've lost our way. Can you tell
us how to get back upstairs?”
The woman straightened the grimy rag on her shoulders. “Such lovely hair you have, dearie. My name's
Rachel. What's your name?”
Cait tightened her grip on Socorro's shoulder. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to ask this woman for
directions.
Rachel pointed to the right. “Keep going that way. The exit's behind the sign that says Rest Rooms.”
Socorro bobbed her head in a quick nod and shifted the pet carrier in her hands. “Thank you, ma'am.”
The woman peered inside the carrier. “Ooh! What a pretty little kitty.”
Cait fished a credit chip from her pocket. “I appreciate your help.”
摘要：

OutofTheDarkBarbaraKarmazinPublished2004ISBN1-59578-023-8PublishedbyLiquidSilverBooks,imprintofAtlanticBridgePublishing,10509SedgegrassDr,Indianapolis,Indiana46235.Copyright©2004,BarbaraKarmazin.Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,storedinaretrievalsystem,ortransmittedinanyformo...

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