“Maybe they’ll listen, if they    
have to deal with two of us, instead of
just me.”                              
     “We also have to stay on this side
of the firing line.”                   
     “Yup. We can’t help the mice, if  
we get fired.”                         
     I didn’t hear that last part. I   
had to replay it later, because a mouse
fell out of one of the cages, flopped  
around, and then started slipping into 
the machine.                           
     “Holy shit!” I screamed, immedi-  
ately shut the Grinder off, and made a 
grab for it, just as it lost its grip  
and was headed straight into the spin- 
ning metal spokes that grounded every- 
thing up.                              
     I didn’t even realize how close   
I’d come to getting my own hand mangled
* until later, and I don’t know how I was  
able to grab it either, but when I pul-
led my hand up, I had it by one of its 
tiny ears.                             
     Denise calmly walked over, put her
hand on the machine, and as the mouse  
struggled to get away, told me, “You   
can let him go.”                       
     I did, and the mouse immediately  
ran up her arm, and then finally onto  
her shoulder.                          
     “Nice catch, by the way,” she told
me and began whispering to the mouse.  
The mouse actually chippered back,     
while she listened, and then began to  
pet him.                               
     “Sorry Dodger. I don’t make the   
rules. I wish I did.”                  
     “Dodger?”                         
     “He dodged the Grinder, didn’t    
he?”                                   



CHAPTER 3: WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 22nd
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