<Marco!> Rachel cried. <A little help, please! I can’t turn around in here!> I knuckle-ran over to Rachel. Somehow she’d gotten herself in a too-narrow alley between train cars. I tore the Hork-Bajir from her flank. Flung him behind me, into the side of a caboose. <Back out, Rachel. I’ll watch your, uh …> <Don’t say it,> she snapped. <Just don’t say it.>
