The frog lay dormant in the darkness, its gray-white blot scarcely visible against the concrete yard and the walls of the building by which it huddled. But through the telepathic cells that formed its major organ pulsed the cries that burst from the lost and abandoned souls of John and Martha Wilkins.
John held his silence, not daring to speak for the emotion that was in him. For a brief moment there had been an utter blankness of disbelief, then the swarming flood of realization. He had heard Martha’s voice—and it meant only one thing.
hadShe was somewhere on these grounds, imprisoned as he was. He had left his mind in contact with the frog and it had picked up the impulses of her mind, transmitting them as vocal cries.
All the devastating fears that he had tried to reason away crashed
