That was a start, at least. Rational, coherent speech; it was a start.
"We can get Jary there," Sinsemilla said carefully. "We just need Sharley there when she does come. She might not be there when we arrive, but that's okay. She'll get there eventually." What she wasn't about to say was that it wasn't as though Sharley could get any worse; dead was dead. "And her father after that, too."
The wind was hissing through the dead trees, dry brown needles dancing through the air like so many diving insects. They'd be safe a while yet--thank God nothing could kill Spocklar, no matter how nasty the weather got.
"She's heavier than she looks,", Layla whispered, almost automatically; she'd quite forgotten that Spocklar would already know that, having gone flying with her. "Don't...drop her, or anything."