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Eve of the Hurricane
CHAPTER TWELVE
The electronic voice, a voice not much different than her own, whispered quietly in the darkness and within her brain: 'Dorothy ... they're coming.'
Dorothy's eyes snapped open and she leapt out of bed to get dressed.
"Hmm?" Roger mumbled, his hand patting the sheets beside him where his wife had been a second ago. "Where's Dora-girl?"
"Roger, you must wake up. Now."
He rolled over. "Why?"
"Because they are coming now."
Roger swore and stumbled out of bed, groping for his clothes.
"Hell of a time to show up!"
Dorothy's dress was already on and she slipped her feet into her shoes. "You and Norman get ready - I'll get Tami."
"Right." Roger gripped her chin and kissed her mouth, whispering against her lips, "I love you."
"Love you, my husband," she responded, dashing out of the bedroom.
Dorothy ran across the house to Tami's bedroom, slamming the door open.
"Tami, we must get down to the hangar."
Tami sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Why?"
"Because the monsters are coming." She picked Tami up out of the bed and carried her out of the bedroom.
"I'm scared!" Tami whimpered, clutching the stuffed bunny.
"It is all right to be scared," Dorothy told her as they entered the elevator. "But you must not let the fear paralyze you." She moved Tami to one arm and pushed the button to the main hangar.
"Why are they after you?"
"Because my mind holds information other people think they can use."
Tami was silent, then stated, "If they only looked, they wouldn't have to take you away."
The elevator stopped and Dorothy carried Tami down the catwalks toward Big O.
"Are you going to leave me?"
Dorothy debated for a second. She really wanted to go back up and help Roger and Norman defend the house, but she also knew the objective was to kidnap her, and she would become more accessible if she was in plain sight.
Plus she had a baby to protect.
"I have to stay. Mommies get taken, but they don't leave."
Tami's smile seemed to light up the whole chamber.
* * *
Norman checked the scenes from all the surveillance cameras outside the mansion.
Roger came in, clad in his black suit but his hair still rumpled. "How's it looking?"
Norman handed him a rifle. "Several units are making their way down 72nd Street from the west."
"How many?"
"Approximately fifty, sir," Norman answered. "And I just relayed instructions for Mistress Dorothy to evacuate in case things go wrong."
Roger nodded grimly, feeling one of his ... for lack of a better term ... former incarnations' mannerisms surface.
He licked his lips, then whispered, "Ready for Freddy."
Norman smiled grimly. Somehow, he knew he had heard that before in his own lifetime from a similar individual. He was not surprised by his own reply:
"Let the good times roll."
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