A Diverse Homonoid Fauna from the Late Middle Pleistocene by Schwartz J.H., Long V.T., Cuong N.L., Kha L.T. & Tattersall

By Schwartz J.H., Long V.T., Cuong N.L., Kha L.T. & Tattersall I.

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You’re only one good accident from being a cripple. ” Dawg let his grin widen. “Take it easy? ” Natches stared at him suspiciously. “Don’t do something you’re going to regret, Dawg. ” Dawg clapped him on the shoulder before moving toward the men being lifted from the cement floor and prepared for a nice little trip to the nearest jail cell. ” He grinned over his shoulder. “No worries at all. Grab her car. Tell the commander we drove in separately; they won’t know any better. You were just borrowing a friend’s vehicle.

For God’s sake, hadn’t she had enough bad luck in the past eight years? This was all Dawg’s fault, she decided. Every bit of it. He lived and he breathed and because of it; fate hated her. Fate was female, right? It was probably jealous. There could be no other explanation. This was so bad. ” a harsh, accented voice muttered roughly. Okay she was the only girl she knew of in this stupid place. She had only heard male orders, commands, and screams since hell had erupted around her. Crista turned, crawling on her hands and bare knees—she should have worn jeans instead of one of her few good skirts—trying her best to get as far away from the mayhem and bloodshed as possible.

This was definitely real, and if something really good didn’t happen very soon, then she was going to have holes in her body that were not supposed to be there. She fought to hold back her screams as bullets whizzed over her head again, popping in the wood crates around her and sending a shower of wood chips and shattered glass from inside around her head. This was bad. Very bad. She stared around, wide-eyed and dazed, as she scrambled around more boxes, more crates, fighting for as much protection between her and the bullets as she could find.

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