Page 37 of Fatal Voyage


  I heard a loud thump, a scream, then static, as though the phone had been dropped and was rolling around.

  “Jesus Christ!” Carlos’s voice was muted by distance.

  “Molly?”

  I heard agitated words that I couldn’t make out.

  “Molly, what is it?”

  Shouts. Another thump. Scraping. A car horn. A loud crunch. Male voices.

  “What’s happening?” Alarm raised my voice an octave.

  No response.

  A shouted command.

  “Fuck you!” Carlos.

  “Molly! Tell me what’s going on!” I was almost screaming. The others had stopped loading to stare at me.

  “No!” Molly Carraway spoke from a distant galaxy, her voice small and tinny and filled with panic. “Please. No!”

  Two muted pops.

  Another scream.

  Two more pops.

  Dead air.

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  Kathy Reichs, Fatal Voyage

 


 

 
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