25.
 It was the freak — what was his name? — Anna’s brother, exiled because he was different, because there was something wrong with him. Moira spoke the name for her: “Johnny Smith, the wrong turn. Hey, Johnny, darling, go back. Go away. Toons coming! Shooting!”
The white figure stayed by the other fence, which kept him separate from his human brethren on this side. To have come from the same womb —
— No time for philosophy now. The Toon drums were getting closer, ruffling and snaring a Revolutionary era beat. Fifes! Fifes even, playing Yankee Doodle. This had to be a nightmare. Only if it were, she’d wake up.
Sam started pulling the rope over the outer fence.
“Yes!” Taxi cheered.
“Why did you come back?” Moira asked.
“In case the rope broke or something went wrong on this end.”
“You came back for me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, well, if that was part of the plan, nobody told me. Now listen, we’ve got to get across this hundred meters or so of metal seafood. You understand? Are you quick?”
“I’m a very good runner.” Moira had her shoes tied around her neck.
“Well, start running.” Taxi went halfway up the inner fence, paused, and held out her hand. Moira tackled it bravely, toes awkwardly digging into the wire fence cells.
Wasn’t going to make it, Taxi suddenly knew. Oh God, should she knock her out now? Well, she was doing what she wanted.
Taxi slid down the other side. “Come on, Moira, just drop!”
Ouch, mistake.
Poor Moira dropped down, sprained something.
“Run before it gets tight. Just force yourself. C’mon, or we’ll both die here.” Taxi sprinted for the other fence. “Sammy! Shoot!”
Sam was nearly doubled over, lugging the heavy gun.
Sand crabs were moving steadily all around, except for the ones Taxi had already shot today and during her entry.
Moira screamed.
The machine gun began its deafening, pounding rhythm, slow but powerful. Sand churned up. Sand fountains jumped up like sprites running from here to there.
Taxi made it to the opposite fence and turned to reach out.
Moira was not there.
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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