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through a canyon of dark, piled cloud. |
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The roar faded. It left his ears ringing. |
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'Jesus-smoking-Christ,' Toby blurted. |
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It dropped like a shroud over the stadium lights, blocking out all but the faintest yellow glow. |
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A moment after the lights dimmed, the shower hit Hanson. Big, hot drops that pelted his face and shoulders. They made his skin tingle. They seemed to sink in. They warmed him. He suddenly felt a strange, wild rush of excitement. |
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Hanson and Toby stared at each other through the faint jaundiced light, the dark shower and the mist that now drifted around themcondensation, probably caused by the hot rain sluicing through the cooler November air. |
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Toby looked as if someone had dumped a bucket of ink over his head. Only his eyes and teeth were white. More teeth showed as his lips curled. |
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Hanson popped the snap of his holster guard and snatched out his revolver as Toby lunged at him, snarling. The man's fingers clutched Hanson's neck. Thumbs dug into his throat. He rammed the muzzle of his .38 into Toby's belly and jerked the trigger three times fast. The blasts pounded his ears. |
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Toby staggered backward, folding at the waist. |
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The fourth round smacked through the crown of his bald, black head. He sat down hard, skidded on his rump, and came to a stop sitting up, drooping over his outstretched legs. |
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