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She felt the vestiges of his last dying breath, hot and wet, skitter down her throat like a spider.

She emerged from the wreckage, coughing and wanting to puke. The wailing sirens of assistance were growing louder.

Sandy suddenly appeared. She must have ended her lunchbreak, March thought.

"Jericho!" March suddenly screamed.

She laughed at the lady with the reverse Mohawk, threw the scissors down at Sandy's feet, and stormed off.

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