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man filled his mouth with something from a golden urn in his left hand. He raised the blazing roll of pages to his lips, then spewed a fine spray through the fire. A gust of burning fluid swept across the girl's crusty black midsection, spread out and streamed down. Flaming rivulets slid over her breasts and between them, down her neck and face. Trev heard sizzling, crackling sounds, saw streamers of smoke rise from the fiery streams. When they ran off her shoulders and head, their fires died. Black drops fell like rain and splashed into the tub. |
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Grandpa, still mumbling, crumpled the remnants of the burning pages and snuffed them in his hand. He let the ashes drift to the floor, then reached down to the book. He flipped through several pages. Trev glimpsed a color plate of Jesus surrounded by lambs. |
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The old man ripped the pages from their binding. He started twisting them to form another torch. |
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Trev turned to Sandy. She was still doubled over. Her hands were on her knees. Trev dropped his knife, reached through strings of hanging mucus and took the revolver from her right hand. She made no effort to keep it. |
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He walked slowly toward the squatting man, who had already lit the Bible pages and filled his mouth from the urn. As fire sprayed at the girl, Trev pressed the muzzle against the base of the old man's skull and pulled the trigger. |
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For just an instant, he wondered if Sandy had turned the cylinder to the correct position. |
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