Snatchers (Book 8): the Dead Don't Pray
“Karen looked at the defunct streetlight that she had just passed under, and sighed, "It's amazing the stuff you used to take for granted in the old world." Karen could see the evening was close and knew things would look a lot different if the streetlights were on.
Sheryl didn't respond to Karen's banal chatter, and was too busy thinking about the girls from the church.
"Not speaking?" Karen brushed her dark hair behind her ears and clocked the tattoo on Sheryl's wrist. "Is your silence... anything to do with ... Buddy? You thinking about him?" Sheryl flashed Karen an evil glare. How the fuck did she know?
"I'm sorry." Karen held up her hands. "A little bird told me." Fucking Lee! Sheryl lied, "I'm just tired." "Any runs planned for the next couple of days?" It was obvious Karen was desperate for some kind of conversation, but Sheryl clearly wasn't in the mood.
Sheryl remarked, "If there are, I want to be on one." They were now descending down Queensway, and passed a small cul-de-sac to their right called Ashleigh Road.MoreLess
Sheryl didn't respond to Karen's banal chatter, and was too busy thinking about the girls from the church.
"Not speaking?" Karen brushed her dark hair behind her ears and clocked the tattoo on Sheryl's wrist. "Is your silence... anything to do with ... Buddy? You thinking about him?" Sheryl flashed Karen an evil glare. How the fuck did she know?
"I'm sorry." Karen held up her hands. "A little bird told me." Fucking Lee! Sheryl lied, "I'm just tired." "Any runs planned for the next couple of days?" It was obvious Karen was desperate for some kind of conversation, but Sheryl clearly wasn't in the mood.
Sheryl remarked, "If there are, I want to be on one." They were now descending down Queensway, and passed a small cul-de-sac to their right called Ashleigh Road.MoreLess
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