[i]"You've got to be kidding me."[/i] Sam's inner voice was a lot louder than her mouth was, though one could probably find a few examples of people willing to disagree. She steadied herself with a palm against a sagging floor joist as the pile of junk shifted beneath her. For that one moment, she marveled at the fact that she hadn't fallen; that her reflexes and balance were still good enough to manage unpredictable terrain. She stole a glance back at Christian, who now looked completely helpless.

[i]"He's even doing Zombie Arms."[/i]

Sam hadn't exactly been social with the group; she hadn't had the time nor the inclination. Even if she hadn't been incapacitated by her incident with the lamp, she knew she'd have refused the chance to mingle. It became clear to her that she'd missed an obvious point of order in Christian. He was showing all the classic signs of blindness. How could she have overlooked the presence of a disabled person? The feeling was not remorse or shame. It was [i]embarrassment[/i]. If he'd been an enemy agent, an infiltrator, she'd have been long dead before she noticed anything wrong at all. That would have to change.

Just then, a thought occurred to her: If he had no eyesight, then how had he gotten this far? Complete blindness had a way of preventing things like a flawless pursuit through crowded, dangerous streets. There was no way in hell he'd have been able to do that.

"Just so we know who's who," Sam called out, making certain her words were clear enough to be heard. "Exactly how does a blind man follow me through two blocks of traffic and people?"