Lucy clapped a hand over Michelle’s mouth and struck her neck with a swift blow to the carotid artery. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. “What ought you to do?” “I’ve hunted up all sorts of things. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. But native! She must watch out. I’m a soldier, you see.
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