Technically, Russell could press assault charges on me, but everyone was jumping over themselves to say that he'd been threatening us. My finger was still on the trigger, and I was beginning to appreciate how you could accidentally shoot your friends in a combat situation, unless you were very careful. His voice had a soft, almost dreamy quality. I had the same feeling I'd had when I stepped off the plane in Albuquerque--desolate.
What's to argue about? I was teasing you, and you go all serious on me. Gross, hut not very effective. But he took something out of their bodies, some memory or remnant that I left in when I raised the dead. It just clips on over the real buckle.
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