47
- 47 -
Moisture hung in the air, somewhere between drizzle and mist, casting the warehouse in a grey shroud that flickered with static. Paskia peered over the crumbling wall. In this weather, it was easier than using a screen.
“I see three,” she said, ducking back down. Beneath her feet, water gurgled in the drain. But she pushed that from her mind. No way to carry out that plan now.
“Surprised you caught the one over by the old truck,” Cali said.
“Took me a while, but they moved, gave themselves away.”
Cali turned her head. “Any communication?”
Jerone tapped his screen, made a clicking noise with his mouth. “Said they’re on their way. Might be five minutes, might be five hours.”
“They say how many were coming?”
“I asked. They said ‘enough’. Think they’re worried about messages
