94
Marquette, Michigan
April 9th 2035
The Bronco eased to a stop at the chain link fence stretching across the wide expanse of the ore dock. Abandoned for decades now, it had become a rendezvous spot, at first for lovers’ trysts and then for drug deals. People seldom visited here anymore since the barrier had been erected. The fence had a tear in the chain link. For a second time, Sue Lynn squeezed through the jagged tines of metal and scrambled down the gravel embankment that led to girders supporting the weather-beaten, eight-inch-thick planks above.
Sue Lynn fought nausea and dizziness as she made her way slowly along the spider web of girders under the dock. The rain fell heavier now, and water dripped steadily through the spaces between the wood onto the rusted steel. Mist covered
