Runner's Moon Trilogy Megabook Series Read Online Free
Author: Linda Mooney
to think he owed her any sort of explanation.
He glanced down at his hands that gripped the steering wheel. They were good hands, if he did say so himself.
Although keeping the nails clean could sometimes be a pain.
Turning his left wrist over, he looked at the inside of his arm, knowing he wouldn't see them. But they were there, underneath the pale skin. Visible only at night after he had sloughed his outer layer.
He had phoned Simolif last night from the pay phone at the end of the block, since the motel room he was renting by the week didn't have that luxury. They had chatted about 31
what they were doing. Interesting things they had discovered.
Oddities they had noted about these people they lived among.
Then Jeb had told Simolif he was moving on and that he would call as soon as he was settled to let his brother know where he could be reached.
Five years ago they had risked the chance to find civilization together. They needed to find the dominant species on this world. Needed to see what they looked like so they could morph into a nearly carbon copy of them. Or else they would not have been able to blend in among them.
They had been astonished to find that the inhabitants were bipeds, like them. Even more astonishing was the fact their body structure was almost identical to the natives. Other than a change in the outer layer, there would be little they would have to do in order to fit in. It was almost too good to be true.
Still, there were some irregularities they had to adjust in order for them to fit in. Not to mention certain peculiarities about this species that proved to be minor roadblocks.
Jeb strode from the parking lot to the bank building.
Grabbing his hardhat from the stack, he went inside to find the construction boss. B and A Construction used its own team of men to complete a job. But because of the time constraint, they had gone to the local employment agency and hired six more men to come aboard temporarily. Now that the bank was finished, Jeb had gotten his walking papers yesterday. He would finish up on those pneumatic machines in the drive-thru lanes today. Tomorrow he would pick up his last paycheck and hit the road.
32
"Hey, Morr." Anson Bennetson, senior co-partner of the firm, gave him a nod. "Finishing the drive-up lanes today?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." The man paused, then added, "Hate to have to let you go, Jeb. You're a damn good worker. In fact, I was wondering if you wouldn't be interested in coming on full-time. It's a done deal. All you would have to do is fill out the paperwork and do the drug testing. No big deal. What do you say? Can you go with it?"
Jeb balanced his hands on his hips. The man's offer tempted him in ways he couldn't begin to explain. Yet the answer would always be—
"No. Thank you for the offer, Mr. Bennetson, but I'm going to have to pass. In fact, after I pick up my paycheck tomorrow, I'll be heading for Clearwater."
The older man tried to hide his disappointment.
"Clearwater? What's up there, if I might ask?"
Jeb threw a shrug into the mixture. It was a gesture he'd found could convey any number of emotions and unspoken explanations. "I have a brother up in Templeton. Eventually I hope to connect up with him."
"Templeton, huh? Is that where you're from?"
"No, sir. We're from ... overseas. A little country called Barandat."
Bennetson nodded. "That's where you get that accent. I figured you must not be from around here. But you have your papers, and you're a damn fine worker, and that's all that counts with me. Well, son, it's been a privilege. Thanks for coming aboard this time around. If you change your mind, 33
you know my number." He held out a beefy hand which Jeb took, and they shook. Giving the boss a little salute with his hardhat, Jeb went outside to complete work on the base of the machines.
Staying. A home.
They were forbidden words. Wishful words. Without provocation images of Hannah popped into his mind. Angrily Jeb set his jaw
He glanced down at his hands that gripped the steering wheel. They were good hands, if he did say so himself.
Although keeping the nails clean could sometimes be a pain.
Turning his left wrist over, he looked at the inside of his arm, knowing he wouldn't see them. But they were there, underneath the pale skin. Visible only at night after he had sloughed his outer layer.
He had phoned Simolif last night from the pay phone at the end of the block, since the motel room he was renting by the week didn't have that luxury. They had chatted about 31
what they were doing. Interesting things they had discovered.
Oddities they had noted about these people they lived among.
Then Jeb had told Simolif he was moving on and that he would call as soon as he was settled to let his brother know where he could be reached.
Five years ago they had risked the chance to find civilization together. They needed to find the dominant species on this world. Needed to see what they looked like so they could morph into a nearly carbon copy of them. Or else they would not have been able to blend in among them.
They had been astonished to find that the inhabitants were bipeds, like them. Even more astonishing was the fact their body structure was almost identical to the natives. Other than a change in the outer layer, there would be little they would have to do in order to fit in. It was almost too good to be true.
Still, there were some irregularities they had to adjust in order for them to fit in. Not to mention certain peculiarities about this species that proved to be minor roadblocks.
Jeb strode from the parking lot to the bank building.
Grabbing his hardhat from the stack, he went inside to find the construction boss. B and A Construction used its own team of men to complete a job. But because of the time constraint, they had gone to the local employment agency and hired six more men to come aboard temporarily. Now that the bank was finished, Jeb had gotten his walking papers yesterday. He would finish up on those pneumatic machines in the drive-thru lanes today. Tomorrow he would pick up his last paycheck and hit the road.
32
"Hey, Morr." Anson Bennetson, senior co-partner of the firm, gave him a nod. "Finishing the drive-up lanes today?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." The man paused, then added, "Hate to have to let you go, Jeb. You're a damn good worker. In fact, I was wondering if you wouldn't be interested in coming on full-time. It's a done deal. All you would have to do is fill out the paperwork and do the drug testing. No big deal. What do you say? Can you go with it?"
Jeb balanced his hands on his hips. The man's offer tempted him in ways he couldn't begin to explain. Yet the answer would always be—
"No. Thank you for the offer, Mr. Bennetson, but I'm going to have to pass. In fact, after I pick up my paycheck tomorrow, I'll be heading for Clearwater."
The older man tried to hide his disappointment.
"Clearwater? What's up there, if I might ask?"
Jeb threw a shrug into the mixture. It was a gesture he'd found could convey any number of emotions and unspoken explanations. "I have a brother up in Templeton. Eventually I hope to connect up with him."
"Templeton, huh? Is that where you're from?"
"No, sir. We're from ... overseas. A little country called Barandat."
Bennetson nodded. "That's where you get that accent. I figured you must not be from around here. But you have your papers, and you're a damn fine worker, and that's all that counts with me. Well, son, it's been a privilege. Thanks for coming aboard this time around. If you change your mind, 33
you know my number." He held out a beefy hand which Jeb took, and they shook. Giving the boss a little salute with his hardhat, Jeb went outside to complete work on the base of the machines.
Staying. A home.
They were forbidden words. Wishful words. Without provocation images of Hannah popped into his mind. Angrily Jeb set his jaw
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