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instant. While he flapped and bounced, Lou pressed down hard on the fork handle and shook it. |
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He grinned, but winced as the pulling sensation burnt the raw tattered flesh where his lower lip should've been. |
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He got me. He sure got me. But not as good as I got him, the dirty old shit. |
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After the man stopped moving, Lou waved the fork back and forth a few more times. Then he pulled it out. As he licked the tines clean, he remembered Maureen. |
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Buddy and Doug had probably gotten her by now. |
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They probably sent me on this wild-goose chase just so they could have her without me. |
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Lou got to his feet. Staring down at the dead man, he cautiously tongued his wound. Some of his lip was still there. He'd thought the whole thing had been ripped off, but only a thin strip, right in the middle, actually seemed to be missing. He touched his cheek where the piece had landed. It wasn't there now. |
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He stomped on the man's face. |
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Then he rushed back to Buddy's section of fence. He tossed his fork over the top, grabbed the edge, boosted himself up and dropped to the other side. |
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Nobody in sight. The patio and pool lights were still on. Lou picked up his fork. He studied the murky depths of the pool as he hurried around it, wishing Maureen would come to the surface and he could jump in and have her all to himself. But the pool looked empty. |
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