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Kyna's hand went to her throat. "Oh my God! You remember, Russ. The guy in Miamithe guy that passed me the necklace." |
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"The guy in Miami was an Indian?" |
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"This is not my body," Morales said. "My wife and my child and I have reanimated these vessels to speak with you." |
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"Oh. What about these others?" Cyrus swept his arm around the circle of the dead. |
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"What's he saying?" Kyna whispered. |
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Cyrus cast her an irritated glance. "Listen, Mr. Morales, is there any way you can make Kyna hear you? We're kinda on a tight schedule here." |
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"We know why you run, and we know who it is you run from. We are all here because of Macumba's disciple." |
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"There, you lost me again." |
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"What's he saying?" Kyna said, tugging on Cyrus's arm. |
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"Ask the woman if we may touch her." |
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Kyna punched Cyrus's arm. "Dammit! What's he saying?" |
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"He said, 'Ask the woman if we may touch her.'" |
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"I don't think he meant me." |
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"The woman, huh?" Kyna said, wincing as she stared at the Indian's rotting face. |
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The body that Morales had inhabited shuffled forward and placed a hand on Kyna's shoulder. At the touch of those cold, bony fingers, she cringed. |
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Kyna's eyes grew as round as dinner plates. |
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She nodded, but didn't even consider trying to speak. |
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"Time is precious to us as well," Morales said, "so I will try to hurry. We are here because of one manthe monster that even now haunts your shadows." |
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"The witch doctor?" Cyrus asked. |
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"He is much more than a mere backwoods dabbler in the |
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