Cavern in Hell
Cavern in HelAn errant moonbeam glinted on the wrist-thick stubbed barrel of the pocket bazooka that jabbed at Brad Lilling, helpless in the clutch of a Jennsen forcefield.
“Hold it,” he squeezed through his locked larynx. “Hold your blast. I’m no cop.”
The sinister shadow hunched closer and took on the same quality of—of not rightness and made more eerie the husky voice. “You lie. You’re in a cop uniform and it’s sopping wet.” How could he see that in this lightless murk? “You’re off that Espee copter just dropped in the river.”
“Right,” Brad acknowledged, “but that don’t make me a policeman. I was a prisoner and escaped— Look here!” No need going into that long and hardly credible tale when he had an easier out. “There’s someone inside there who’ll vouch for me. Kozmer
