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Page 368
there was the memory of a missionto stop the rain and somehow save Maureen. He knew the mission was important. He knew that he cared about it. But he also knew that too much was in the way. Hungers to rip flesh, taste blood, tear into throats and breasts and guts.
Sandy's and Rhonda's, for starters. Then, anyone else he could find.
But Sandy, gun in hand, kept all that from happening. And got him here to the Chidi house.
Under his dark heat and anger stirred a lost man who was grateful.
Walking backward over the lawn, he watched how Sandy's skin gleamed black in the light from the porch. He was pretty sure he'd fired four rounds at the man with the rifle. Before that, one into Francine. Which left only one in the revolver. Maybe Sandy would use it on the Chidis. Then he could get her.
He tripped and dropped down hard on the concrete stoop.
Sandy came closer, one hand still on Rhonda's shoulder. 'Get up,' she said.
Trev stood, climbed the two steps, and moved to the front door. There was no screen door, just a panel of dark wood with a handle and peephole.
'Want me to ring the bell?' he asked.
'Don't be a jerk, Trevor. See if it's locked.'
He tried the handle, then shook his head.
'Didn't reckon they'd make it easy for us,' Sandy said. 'OK, go on and kick it in.'
'They might be waiting and kill us,' Rhonda said.

 
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