Authors: Basil Sands
“
God,
I
wish
the
delivery
was
today.
”
“
Well,
let
’
s
make
sure
the
loaf
is
fully
cooked
before
we
take
it
out
of
the
oven.
”
“
Huh?
”
S
he
looked
at
him
quizzically.
“
Are
you
comparing
our
baby
to
bread?
What
are
you
,
some
kind
of
closet
goblin
?
”
Marcus
grinned
at
her.
“
I
will
admit,
”
he
said
,
“
I
like
the
taste
of
your
flesh.
”
Lonnie
put
her
hands
on
her
back
and
stretched.
Then
she
crossed
the
room
with
an
exaggerated
waddle
and
called
out
in
a
tired
-
old
-
woman
voice.
“
Here
I
am,
your
sex
slave.
”
“
If
we
didn
’
t
need
to
go
…”
“
Yeah
,
right,
”
Lonnie
said.
“
I
am
afraid
the
other
night
was
the
last
time
for
a
while.
”
They
moved
toward
the
door
,
and
Marcus
gave
her
a
serious
look.
“
Maybe
you
should
stay
here
instead
of
coming
to
Farrah
’
s
house.
”
“
Why?
”
“
For
your
safety,
”
he
said.
“
I
don
’
t
want
you
getting
hurt
again.
”
“
I
don
’
t
think
anything
is
going
to
happen,
”
she
replied.
“
Besides,
Brassert
found
me
here
in
the
first
place.
I
’
d
feel
a
lot
safer
being
with
you
as
my
backup.
”
She
used
police
talk
and
a
strong
voice
to
sound
brave,
but
Lonnie
really
was
afraid
of
being
alone.
The
incident
with
Brassert
had
shaken
her.
Before
her
pregnancy
,
it
was
different
—she
ran
into
danger
as
part
of
her
daily
workload.
She
was
never
afraid.
But
now,
with
the
baby
in
her
belly
,
her
instincts
had
shifted.
Self
-
preservation
became
the
sole
driving
factor
—not
her
own
preservation,
but
that
of
the
new
life
in
her
womb.
Since
seeing
the
images
on
the
ultrasound
,
the
child
had
become
even
more
real.
The
baby
’
s
movement.
Its
limbs
and
fingers
and
toes.
The
shape
of
its
face,
the
tiny
nub
of
a
nose,
the
thumb
stuck
in
its
mouth.
The
child
was
alive,
truly
and
completely
alive.
“
All
right
then
,
”
Marcus
said.
“
Let
’
s
get
going.
But
don
’
t
try
to
get
involved
if
anything
happens.
”
“
Don
’
t
worry.
”
Thirty
minutes
later
,
they
pulled
up
to
a
large collection
Buick
Roadmasters
and
a
dozen
State
Trooper
and
Anchorage
Police
Department
cruisers.
Marcus searched for a place to park the F250. “Looks like a car lot for a police surplus auction.”