Part 155 (2/2)

her hair. They didn't speak as they walked to the car. Like a shadow,

Sweeney fell in behind them.

LIViNG NEAR HOLLYWOOD all his life hadn't spoiled the fantasy and

glamour for Michael. He appreciated star-watching as much as the next

guy. Nor did he mind spending a few days in February working crowd

control and security for the filming of Devastated. It had been a

disappointment that Angie Parks hadn't been involved in the early

location shots. Still he enjoyed watching the twin girls who were

playing Emma.

Casting had done a remarkable job of finding a pair of kids who

resembled Emma. Of course, Emma had been prettier, he thought. Was

prettier. Her eyes were bluer, bigger. And her mouth ... It

didn't do him a h.e.l.l of a lot of good to think about her mouth.

It was a better idea to concentrate on his job-which was not, as some of

the vets had sneeringly called it, pansy duty. Fans turned out day

after day. The hard-core Devastation fans weren't pleased with Jane

Palmer's book, or the fact that it was to be a movie. Some carried

banners or placards, others just booed. There were a few, wearing

leather and sporting mohawks and dog collars, who looked as thought they

would have enjoyed knocking heads with the cops.

Added to them were clutches of young girls who shrieked and giggled

every time Matt Holden came in view. The young actor who played Brian

McAvoy was the current teen dream. Michael had had his ankle kicked,

his shoulder bruised, and his uniform wept on by adoring fans.

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