The women screamed, and whistled. Muscle Man found everything but the transmitter that was sewn somewhere in the shirt and the contents of the purse. He hadn't moved. Duly noted.
I pushed away from the wall and touched Ramirez's arm. Then it gave one beat, then another, and I drew air into my lungs in a frantic rush, and as soon as I had air, I screamed. Death is the last intimate thing we ever do. Most of the people I have taken as offerings did not believe in much of anything.
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