They were freaking terrorists. Full of threats like the one that gave her chill bumps right then, barking dogs illustrating a scene with an escaped convict being torn apart by the pack.
Clarice scowled and tried to shake it out of her mind. But the image continued, premonitory, expanding on the idea of escape with her as the star of the stunt. It felt possible, all of a sudden. It felt like it was meant to be. She gasped as a jolt of anxious adrenaline flooded her arms and legs, priming her body to hold up for the mad adventure circulating in her mind.
Clarice paused and glanced at Officer Pruet, with what she knew was an odd, guilty look.
Stupid. As if she could hear me thinking about escape.
She couldn't, and kept walking.
Deciding those thoughts were too high-risk while in the pres
