Authors: Basil Sands
Marcus
looked
at
Lonnie
, and she
looked
back
at
him.
They
paused
for
a
moment,
then
Lonnie
turned
back
to
Nellie.
“
Yes.
We
do.
”
“
All
righty
,
then.
”
Nellie
slid
the
ultrasound
wand
to
the
middle
of
Lonnie
’
s
belly.
All
they
could
see
was
the
baby
’
s
hip.
The
baby
had
turned
as
if
suddenly
being
modest.
“
O
kay,
baby,
now
just
roll
over
a
little
bit,
”
Nellie
said.
“
We
ain
’
t
gonna
hurt
you.
Just
a
little
peeky-weeky.
”
The
baby
rolled
over
at
Nellie
’
s
urging.
“
Well
now,
there
we
go
.
”
S
he
smiled
up
at
Lonnie,
then
turned
to
Marcus.
“
Now
you
know
what
color
to
paint
the
baby
’s
room,
eh?
”
Chapter
22
Farrah’s Rented House
Goldenview Drive
10:00
p.m.
“
Thank
you
all
for
attending
.
”
Kharzai
slid
his
eyes
over
the
group
of
four
tattooed
men
in
the
garage,
noting
that
none
of
them,
other
than
Blue,
had
been
at
the
rail
yard
debacle.
His
lips
stretched
in
a
serpentine
grin
that
would
have
made
a
mongoose
bristle.
He
crossed
the
cement
floor
to
a
metal
tube
leaning
at
a
steep
angle
propped
up
on
a
bipod.
“
This
is
the
tool
with
which
you
will
each
earn
your
money
.
”
He
stopped
by
the
mortar
tube
and
scanned
across
them.
“
I
don
’
t
suppose
any
of
you
happened
to
have
served
in
the
military
and
know
how
to
use
one
of
these.
”
“
M-224,
60mm
Lightweight
Mortar,
”
a
voice
said,
then
continued
.
“
Infantry
portable
smooth
bore
,
muzzle-loading
,
high-angle-of-fire
weapon
.
It
can
be
fired
from
a
bipod
,
or
handheld
position
in
close-in
support
of
ground
troops.
”
The
voice
was
that
of
a
young
man
in
his
mid-twenties
whom
the
others
called
Bones.
Tattoos
swirled
in
Celtic
patterns
across
his
face
and
down
his
neck
and
arms,
accentuated
with
three
-
dimensional
demon
faces
and
a
few
swastikas.
On
his
right
wrist
was
a
detailed
ink
of
the
Marine
Corps
Eagle
Globe
and
Anchor
emblem.
A
red
slash,
drawn
like
a
gaping
wound
,
marred
the
symbol.
An
angry
fist
jutted
its
middle
finger
into
the
wound.
Around
his
neck
hung
a
string
of
knuckle
bones.
Among the mix of
adult
-
sized
bones
were
interspersed
some
that had come from
very
small
fingers.
Kharzai
looked
coldly
at
the
man,
his
eyes
barely
containing
hatred
that
boiled.
In
all
his
years
of
killing
people
,
he'd
made
it
a
rule
that
no
children,
even
if
they
actively
fought
for
the
other
side,
would
be
intentionally
hurt.
This
bastard
obviously
did
not
follow
that
credo.