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There were no alarming radio or radar transmissions. The Guardian Angel moved toward the crash site. It was too far away for me to send the blob into the room, so it paused at the edge of my range, pretending to look from the distance, then it moved directly back to me, angling down through the ground.A few seconds later, Dad called Paul, telling him, "The Guardian Angel has opened the door and is nudging us out. Is there any reason why not?" I'd like you to stay there until we're sure nothing else is going to happen." The Guardian Angel wants us out. I don't think we have a choice. It's pushing me quite hard. Bye." The parents exited their panic room and walked down toward ours. Prof had fitted his spare leg.At our end, I'd left our security uniform on a shelf, had put my ski mask in my pocket and had put on a casual shirt I'd flown into this room before the Government's evil attack started, putting it over my black shirt to make myself look less cat-burglar-like. I also powered. I stopped the tractor, and then turned it off. Right away the AC stopped in the cab. The rust bucket carefully pulled off of the road and then moved across the field that I was plowing under, towards me. The field was so fucking dry that even as the dust plume that was trailing behind me settled, another came towards me with the oncoming truck. Just barely, through the dust, I could see her waiving at me.Cracking the cab door I was met with the searing dry heat that had settled over us weeks ago. Immediately sweat beaded on my forehead. I stepped out of the cab onto the tire of the tractor and then dropped to the ground, raising another puff of dust.The truck pulled up close, and she smiled as she opened the door. She stepped out. I thought I was dirty! Covered in dust, the woman was wearing a button-down-the-front yellow polka-dot sundress, over her rubber boots, with a floppy hat tied down under her chin. I knew the dress was yellow only because I had seen it before – when it was.
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