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She wished she could feel sorry for him. She'd seen lots like him drifting through Trader in the fall and early winter, all wrapped up in ratty clothes and dirty caps with cigarettes behind their ears. They'd stop in Trader long enough to panhandle some money, eat and catch a lift westward. The musky fuckers could live for a week on a couple of Twinkies and some pond water. She’d always known his kind were capable of survival anywhere and this particular drifter was absolute proof of it. For all she knew, this might be the best, warmest place Tom Moon had slept in for years. |
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After the cutting and sealing up, they put you in a soaker. That's what Mary called them. She had tried to give everything a name because then she could keep track better and maybe things wouldn't be quite so horrible. |
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His rage was now sealed, capped off in his paralyzed body. Seething with useless fury, he watched the alien wasp land on his arm. Devoid of tactile sensation, he watched it as if he were seeing it crawl over someone else. |
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There was a smooth, beveled hole on the side of the device. When the tool was held at the ready, the hole would nest the user's thumb perfectly. The switch at the bottom of the hole, however, was too deep to reach with the length of a normal human thumb. A former owner had fashioned an extension of leather and bone which when strapped to the user's own digit produced the required length. Kelly held the cool, thick rod under his arm and strapped on the extension. |
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Linda thought the remark somewhat intrusive and gathered her stuff up into a neat pile. She could feel him admiring her face. She'd felt that sensation from strange men her whole life. He would come on to her before the night was out, she was fairly sure of it. Her right eye was showing and there was nothing she could do to prevent that. She could almost hear the words forming in his head. |
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Gram for gram the poison from a poison dart frog had no equivalent in the natural world. In fact, just part of a gram - say as much as an aspirin - if you could get that much together in one place, would kill thousands of people. |
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He must have given them a picture from a book in the dump as a model - like you'd carry a picture from a magazine to the hair stylist to copy a hair style. It was not a good cut. |
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When Buddy Davis woke up he was sure he was in hell. It had to be hell because he could see the demons right there in front of him. He felt a buzzing chatter against his skull that rattled his teeth and knew that the demons were cutting into his head. |
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Rachel had studied thousands of life forms dead and alive. She knew each nuance of form and how the fickle nature of evolution could modify form for its own purpose, often seemingly at random or without intent. But a vindication for the form always lay hidden in the design. The organic beauty, rendered for eons on the canvas of function, came through eventually. |
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The parasite clamped down with its needle-like forelegs, digging them deep into Habershaw's flesh. A microsecond later it pushed its pencil-shaped head against Habershaw's leg. A thin paste of skin-softening enzyme oozed from the tip and parted the epidermis just enough for the snout to start its penetration. Stiff, rear-pointing hairs locked the piercing head in place as if screwed in. |
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Cut me you fucker, Bailey thought. See if I care. Someday I'll get you - you and your fucking sisters, too. She watched the cutter's blade contact the flesh of her leg and part it cleanly. The pain rushed over her like flame. |
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As he watched her run her hands back over her face and hair, the image transformed from macabre to strangely beautiful. He could almost feel the peppering rain that splashed off her smooth skin and the cool rivulets running down her belly and legs. The tangled pattern of the jungle's foliage made a vivid and baroque background for her pale form. |
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