“Down, down to a dimly lit basement. Shadowy furnaces and huffing pipes. A turgid warmth. The smell of the burning animal fat that Jasper used to power his furnaces. Grim, this basement, all naked machinery and concrete. Smelling of industry and dust. Daphne kind of liked it here. It was quiet and felt safe. This, for the moment, was her realm. They were looking for her outside, all across Gunsight. She’d smashed a window, dropped a twined power cord through it so it looked like she’d went out t...hat way. “She must’ve climbed down on this cord. She’s got to be somewhere nearby, she can’t have gotten far . . .” Idiots. She had the auto shotgun, the knife, and she’d picked up a machine pistol from the body of the panicky janitor she’d had to kill on the back stairs. She’d hidden his body behind the furnace. The corpse would start to smell, soon. But she was warm here, in the darkness. She had the stolen food, a bottle of water. She had weapons. She had time to think. To wonder why Mordecai hadn’t come back.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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