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The blast jerked the gun in his hand. The old man's head lurched as if it had been clubbed. Still squatting, he pitched forward. The top of his head smashed against the upside-down face of the girl. His knees hit the floor. He slid down, the wound above his neck pumping blood, his head rubbing the girl's face. The charred mess came apart like a shattered jigsaw puzzle, sliding down over bloody bone, bits of it clinging to his white hair. |
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His head splashed into the tub. |
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The girl had lost her lips. She seemed to be grinning at the old man's fate. |
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'Come on, man,' Buddy muttered. |
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Together, they rammed against the door. This time, it wasn't shoved back at them. Something on the other side scooted away, then crashed to the floor. Buddy squeezed between the edge of the door and the jamb. Lou followed. |
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Saw Buddy hurl his spear. Its dim, fleeing target |
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