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Charade
Fifty two

Fifty two

The arm, so slender it seemed impossible for the alien to hold the tube of metal, rose slowly with an air of finality.

A whimper escaped her lips while Bobbi felt a rush of warmth run down her legs and smelled the bitter tang of urine. This was the stuff of nightmares, her mind unwilling to believe she was in this place with the alien but was watching a badly played movie.

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Her body knew the truth. With no conscious thought, she took a step away from the alien, edging backward along the side of the car.

Faintness was coming, the edges of her vision closing in rapidly and blocking all but the arm and the tube.