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Hal wakes up. As soon as he got to awareness, he sprung to his feet. Being
a theif meant you couldn't lay around, even with ... oh dear god, my
brain a powerful headache. Hal was in a dark room. The last thing he remembered was getting his ass kicked by a monkey. (A monkey? Maybe he hit his head harder then he thought, though that didn't seem possible, for it was still on his shoulders). Hal's eyes adjusted to the small amount of light coming from a lantern hanging from the ceiling. He got a brief flash of the future, where there were men in green uniforms, carring long metal objects. He shook his head. His useless talent was still with him, a good sign. He wasn't that out of it. (He could tell, because his talent went away when he got drunk and once, when he had spent a week in the hospital after falling off the hospital's roof). Hal saw rows of shelves lining the walls. A few boxes, filled with more books, sat on the cold stone floor. At the far end of the room was a door. Another door was behind him. Hal checked his weapons. Nothing. He picked out a small, thin hardback. Not his usual choice but you have to improvise. Hal knew many spots on a human body he could injure with the hard bits of the book in his hand.
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5/20/2003 2:33:15 PM
Extending Enabled
24996356 episodes viewed since 9/30/2002 1:22:06 PM.