/* */ Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_41_-_Freedom_Lost "I've got a mental picture of the roof, lover, and it's red."

 

"What's she talking about, Cawdor?" the sec leader demanded angrily.

 

"Krysty can 'see' things, Rollins. I'd say it's about to hit the fan."

 

"Shut her up. We don't have time for crazy mutie talk."

 

The small radio on Rollins's gun belt squawked, the shrill tone adding to the mounting tension between the two men. He snatched up the comm unit and thumbed the send button. "What?"

 

"This is Jameson, sir, from the west wing."

 

"I've got problems of my own, Jameson. Make it quick."

 

"The stickies, sir. The bastards are coming at us from all sides. One dropped a load of napalm onto the roof. We're boxed in. What are we going to do?"

 

All eyes turned toward the red flames, shooting into the sky.