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Page 275
brought in. He heard quiet murmurs, weeping, voices high-pitched with alarm, the thumps of blows landing on the kid, the golfer and the woman. He thought he should get up and tell them to stop, but he just sat there.
Too close. It had been too damn close. His trick had backfired, could've gotten everyone killed.
He saw Cassy push her way into one of the groups, heard her snap, 'Quit it! That's enough.'
Then Lynn came through the crowd and sat down beside him. She slipped an arm across his shoulders. 'Pretty rough?' she asked.
'God,' he muttered.
'You're not hurt, are you?'
He shook his head. 'So much for brilliant plans.'
'You did fabulous, though. Really. The plan really did work. You got . . . how many of them? Six?'
'Plus two outside.'
'So eight. That's fabulous. That's really whittling them down, honey. We got eight of them and they didn't get any of us.'
He faced Lynn. She had a forced smile and a sad, rather frantic look in her eyes.
She'd led a peaceful, sheltered life and there was no reason in the world for her to understand. But she did. John could tell. She knew this wasn't pretend, knew that lives had been lost, that he had killed people whose only crime was getting caught in the black rain, and that he hated all this.
'I'm so sorry I made you come here tonight,' she said.

 
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