|
|
|
|
|
|
|
John flung blood at their bare legs from the pumping throat of the boy. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
'Get plenty on you. Quick!' |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Crouching, they cupped blood and spread it over their hair and faces. Lynn washed her shoulders with it. John painted their legs. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Then he got up. 'The freezer!' |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
He pointed at the freezer door. 'Hurry,' he gasped. 'Get in there and play dead.' |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
'What about you?' Lynn blurted. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The women ran for the freezer, Lynn glancing back, her face dripping crimson, a look in her eyes as if she thought she might never see him again. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
John crouched beside the body of the boy he'd killed. When he heard the heavy thud of the shutting door, he clamped the knife between his teeth and lifted the body. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
They sat on the sofa, Kara watching while Denise and Tom fashioned their weapons. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Tom had broken off the ends of a broom and a mop they'd found by the water heater, leaving each shaft with a jagged point. Kara had fetched a ball of twine |
|
|
|
|
|