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... rried out of the clubhouse. Yellow sand filled the sky, and she kept her head down as she rushed along. The wind was so strong that every so often, she had to squat and wait for a gust to pass before getting up again. The way forward remained treacherous. Evelyn wiped the sand from her goggles, humming an off-key tune to herself.
"You think you can fucking run? Go on, run! Why’ve you stopped? I’ll beat you to death! You, get the stuff he’s holding. And break his legs."
"Yes, Mr. ...
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