Someone important to me. If he could do it this morning, he could just maybe he could derail the depression he sensed coming on before it could get a real start.
She blew apart into shadows. He drew his gun and the two of them started slowly down the hall to Pauls closed bedroom door. He thought her illness might have been short indeed — a thunderclap coronary, say, followed by a trip to Saint Joes, followed by. There was something big and black pistol-gripped in one hand and for one wild moment Paul thought it was a tear-gas gun.
He remembered he had cried and his father had told him it was just a little cut. I told you that, and I never lie.
There was sensory input, but he was not doing anything with it — not seeing what he was seeing, not hearing what he was hearing. Three of the dead were children — Paul Krenmitz, 8, Frederick Krenmitz, 6, and Alison Krenmitz, 3.