"No. Neither of us is used to this much sun. It'll be shady on the other side."
He led her by the hand, keeping within arm's reach of the curving wall. Here and there they passed steel doors set flush with the smooth concrete, and once a slab of steel in the ground about ten feet from the wall, similar to the one from which they had emerged. He thanked the luck which had made him remember these exits and how to find them.
They reached shade, sharp and definite as black ink on white paper, painting the shape of the building long and flat across the bleak landscape. Coolness struck his face and hands as crisply as a slap. He drew the girl close to the building. Together they sank to the ground.
"Are you sure no one will find us?"
He put his arm around her shoulders. "No one will be looking."
She stared past him at the wasteland extending in every direction between the tall buildings and beyond. "It's so—so empty," she said nervously. "I've never been out before."
"Not many workers have."
"It frightens me."
"Don't look at it."
She looked up at him, and something in her eyes seemed to melt. She quivered spasmodically as he folded her into his arms. Her eyes were wide as his face loomed near, but when he brought his lips to hers, the fringed lids closed over her eyes like shades drawn against the light. And suddenly her hands were strong and hard on his back, urgent and demanding....