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He sucked furiously, his growls softening to moans of pleasure. His fingernails dug into Lou's cheeks. He licked and sucked and gnawed on the open flesh. He writhed, rubbing himself against Lou's body. |
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And Lou, through the pain and horror. realized that the man's hands were holding onto his face. They weren't pinning his own hands to the alley. Not now. They couldn't be. |
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Stretching his right arm out sideways, he lifted the barbecue fork. He swung its long rod up, and eased it down until the tines were an inch from the side of his assailant's neck. |
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A harsh gasp blew spittle and blood into Lou's mouth. The man twitched and shuddered. Lou rolled, throwing him off and tugging the fork from his neck. The guy was on his back, mouth and eyes wide, one hand clutching his throat as if he were trying to strangle himself. His heels were shoving at the alley, thrusting his rump off the asphalt, scooting him along on the backs of his shoulders and head. |
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Lou crawled toward him. Past the man's head. The guy scotted closer. Lou caught the head between his knees. Holding it there, he raised the long fork overhead with both hands and drove it down. He missed his target and the tines ripped furrows in the guy's left cheek. He tried again. This time, he hit where he wanted. The bridge of the nose. One of the twin tines on each side. They punched into the corners of the eyes and went deep. |
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The orbs burst. The man's shriek only lasted an |
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