Davey finished the arm, slurping it back like a noodle. Then he dangled
the tiny Allen from the thumb, shaking it, before taking hold of the
legs, one between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, and he gently,
almost lovingly pulled them apart. The Allen screamed, a sound as tiny
and tortured as a cricket song, and then the left leg wrenched free of
its socket. Alan felt his own leg twist in sympathy, and then there was
a killing rage in him. He looked around the cave for the thing that
would let him murder his brother for once and for all, but it wasn't to
be found.
Davey's murder was still to come.
Instead, he leapt on Davey's back, arm around his neck, hand gripping
his choking fist, pulling the headlock tighter and tighter. Marci was
screaming something, but she was lost in the crash of the blood-surf
that roared in his ears. Davey pitched over backward, trying to buck him
off, but he wouldn't be thrown, and he flipped Davey over by the neck,
so that he landed it a thrash of skinny arms and legs. The Allen fell to
the floor, weeping and dragging itself one-armed and one-legged away
from the melee.
Then Davey was on him, squeezing his injured hand, other thumb in his
eye, screeching like a rusted hinge. Alan tried to see through the tears
that sprang up, tried to reach Davey with his good hand, but the rage
was leaking out of him now.
Pages:
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174