home.social

Search

5 results for “pidgin”

  1. Kincaid nodded. He and two volunteer firemen reached inside the open canopy, hooked their arms beneath Remiel’s shoulders and knees, and gently lifted her from the cockpit of Remiel's Dizzy Lizzy. As they carried her down the slope toward the waiting wooden chair. The dust plume rolled across the dry lakebed like an advancing artillery barrage. Three olive-drab Dodge WC54 three-quarter-ton command trucks and a canvas-topped GMC six-by-six troop transport skidded to a halt in a sweeping semicircle, boxing in the stranded Plymouth sedan and Brawley’s weathered flatbed. Before the gravel had even stopped pinging against the fenders, the tailgates dropped. A dozen armed military policemen in olive-drab wool, white canvas leggings, and polished steel helmets emblazoned with black MP stencils vaulted into the dirt, their M1 carbines held at the low ready. "Nobody moves!" an officer barked, striding through the cloud of alkaline dust. He wore the gold oak leaves of an Army Air Forces major on the collar of his sun-bleached service dress, coupled with the crossed daggers of military intelligence.

Share on Mastodon

Enter the server where you have an account.