a conversation stopper. I'm more of a crowd disperser."
Larsen leaned into their whisper. "Your being here is a secret, so of course, everyone knows about it. You're the talk of the camp. I bet they're disappointed you're not wearing the gown."
"I'm not disappointed." Kelly hugged the satin tighter.
With their trays filled, they went to one of the long, empty tables. Coleman put her prisoner between her and Larsen as if she were afraid the smaller woman would run off. Kelly sensed the real problem was Coleman being afraid to sit next to Larsen.
Kelly eyed the globs that had been dumped on her tray. "What's this?" she asked as Coleman and Larsen dug in.
Coleman swallowed. "I've learned not to ask."
"Ah, this reminds me of my collage days." She ate and it didn't taste too bad. Just as she remembered, ignorance could be bliss.
It surprised Kelly how sensory this dream was. The taste, the smell, and the feel of the lumps as she chewed seemed so real.
Kelly didn't notice at first, but the crowd grew so quickly they were soon hard to miss. Like walls springing up around them, they were blocked in, and the air grew thin. The only movement was that of the group breaths, in and out. She was almost swayed side to side with it.
At first they just stood and stared. Not too bad, it just made it hard for Kelly to swallow gracefully. But when they started sitting down around them she was thankful she had Coleman and Larsen on either side.
An Asian looking soldier sat across from Kelly. He put his elbows on the table and twined his long fingers above the empty dishes on his tray. His name tag read, Smith. She liked that everyone was tagged so she didn't have to remember all their names.
"Are you the woman who was found in Captain Duran's bed?" Apparently, Smith was the group spokesman.
Kelly swallowed. "Yes."
The human walls murmured and someone shushed them.
"Is it true you don't know how you got here?"
All went still.
"Yes." She took another bite.
Quiet murmurs popped up here and there.
"Do you have amnesia?"
Quiet.
"Nope."
A big black man leaned over Smith. His tag read Tabler. "They're saying you're a spy."
"Who’s they?" Kelly reined in her humor and quashed a laugh.
"Mostly the Intel guys." There was a pause. "Well?"
"Well, what?" She took a swig of her drink.
"Are you a spy?"
To her embarrassment she couldn't help the laughter that spewed Smith with water.
"No! Although I can keep a secret," Kelly dabbed appalageticly at Smith's face with her napkin. "I don't know how to shoot a gun, and I don't have any cool gadgets. Sorry."
"Then what are you?" Smith seemed to enjoy her attention.
"I'm a marketing analyst from Lincoln, Nebraska."
Tabler huffed. "That's it?"
"Yep."
A blond baby face pushed closer. "That could just be your cover."
She snickered. "I'd say it’s a pretty good cover, because it even has me fooled."
When a guy detached from the wall and put his hand on Kelly’s shoulder, she jumped with a yelp. Larsen and Coleman both leapt up and knocked the guy back into the pulsing wall.
"Stay back!" Larsen ordered.
"Sorry man, I just wanted to tell her I'm from Nebraska, too."
Coleman narrowed her eyes. "That's fine but no touching!"
The walls moved back. Coleman's reputation had definitely gotten around.
Kelly heard someone whisper. "Here comes Major Turner." Both her guards groaned.
"Who's this Turner?"
"A little problem."
"How little of a problem?"
Larsen filled his mouth and studied his tray intently, not lifting his head whenever he glanced up between shovels. “Kelly,” he ordered around a mouthful, “eat.”
The walls parted, and a small man flanked by two taller and younger men stomped up to their table.
"What's going on here?" the small one boomed, and Kelly realized this had to be Turner, ‘the little problem.’
Apparently, he made up for his short stature with volume. He struck Kelly as the self-important type. Blond and fair skinned, he looked as though he had crawled
Larsen leaned into their whisper. "Your being here is a secret, so of course, everyone knows about it. You're the talk of the camp. I bet they're disappointed you're not wearing the gown."
"I'm not disappointed." Kelly hugged the satin tighter.
With their trays filled, they went to one of the long, empty tables. Coleman put her prisoner between her and Larsen as if she were afraid the smaller woman would run off. Kelly sensed the real problem was Coleman being afraid to sit next to Larsen.
Kelly eyed the globs that had been dumped on her tray. "What's this?" she asked as Coleman and Larsen dug in.
Coleman swallowed. "I've learned not to ask."
"Ah, this reminds me of my collage days." She ate and it didn't taste too bad. Just as she remembered, ignorance could be bliss.
It surprised Kelly how sensory this dream was. The taste, the smell, and the feel of the lumps as she chewed seemed so real.
Kelly didn't notice at first, but the crowd grew so quickly they were soon hard to miss. Like walls springing up around them, they were blocked in, and the air grew thin. The only movement was that of the group breaths, in and out. She was almost swayed side to side with it.
At first they just stood and stared. Not too bad, it just made it hard for Kelly to swallow gracefully. But when they started sitting down around them she was thankful she had Coleman and Larsen on either side.
An Asian looking soldier sat across from Kelly. He put his elbows on the table and twined his long fingers above the empty dishes on his tray. His name tag read, Smith. She liked that everyone was tagged so she didn't have to remember all their names.
"Are you the woman who was found in Captain Duran's bed?" Apparently, Smith was the group spokesman.
Kelly swallowed. "Yes."
The human walls murmured and someone shushed them.
"Is it true you don't know how you got here?"
All went still.
"Yes." She took another bite.
Quiet murmurs popped up here and there.
"Do you have amnesia?"
Quiet.
"Nope."
A big black man leaned over Smith. His tag read Tabler. "They're saying you're a spy."
"Who’s they?" Kelly reined in her humor and quashed a laugh.
"Mostly the Intel guys." There was a pause. "Well?"
"Well, what?" She took a swig of her drink.
"Are you a spy?"
To her embarrassment she couldn't help the laughter that spewed Smith with water.
"No! Although I can keep a secret," Kelly dabbed appalageticly at Smith's face with her napkin. "I don't know how to shoot a gun, and I don't have any cool gadgets. Sorry."
"Then what are you?" Smith seemed to enjoy her attention.
"I'm a marketing analyst from Lincoln, Nebraska."
Tabler huffed. "That's it?"
"Yep."
A blond baby face pushed closer. "That could just be your cover."
She snickered. "I'd say it’s a pretty good cover, because it even has me fooled."
When a guy detached from the wall and put his hand on Kelly’s shoulder, she jumped with a yelp. Larsen and Coleman both leapt up and knocked the guy back into the pulsing wall.
"Stay back!" Larsen ordered.
"Sorry man, I just wanted to tell her I'm from Nebraska, too."
Coleman narrowed her eyes. "That's fine but no touching!"
The walls moved back. Coleman's reputation had definitely gotten around.
Kelly heard someone whisper. "Here comes Major Turner." Both her guards groaned.
"Who's this Turner?"
"A little problem."
"How little of a problem?"
Larsen filled his mouth and studied his tray intently, not lifting his head whenever he glanced up between shovels. “Kelly,” he ordered around a mouthful, “eat.”
The walls parted, and a small man flanked by two taller and younger men stomped up to their table.
"What's going on here?" the small one boomed, and Kelly realized this had to be Turner, ‘the little problem.’
Apparently, he made up for his short stature with volume. He struck Kelly as the self-important type. Blond and fair skinned, he looked as though he had crawled
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