Amal walked forward as she rubbed her sore cheek. She looked at Callie, at how deranged she appeared to be. And most importantly, how she looked nothing like the other colonists. Her skin was rosy and spotless in comparison.
Callie exuded waves of anger and disgust when she focused her attention on Amal or Claire, but the exact opposite when she looked at Max. Amal felt her admiration and lust for him.
And she felt her companions’ fear even as they stood by her side.
It seems they all had stepped into some sort of landmine, and there didn’t seem to be a way out of their predicament. Not that she had the time to think of a way out. All she could think about were the dead-eyed colonists and their pallid grey complexions.
“Did you do that to all those colonists?” she asked Callie. “Were you the one that emptied them out and left them… hollow?”