It's not
there now. Have you seen it? Does he still have it?
"He never liked having a little brother, not me or the others, but he
liked having that little thing around to torture."
Billy hissed. "She'll be dead in minutes," he said. "In seconds. Another
one dead. His doing!
"Killed her, cut her up, buried her," Benny chanted. "Sliced her open
and cut her up," he shrilled.
Alan let the knife fall from his hands. Benny leapt for Danny, hands
outstretched. Danny braced for the impact, rolled with him, and came up
on top of him, small hands in Benny's eyes, grinding.
There were sirens out front now, lots of sirens.
A distant crash, and a rain of glass fell about his shoulders. He turned
and looked up, looked up into the dormer window of his attic, four
stories up. Mimi's head poked out from the window, wreathed in smoke,
her face smudged and eyes screwed up.
"Mimi!" he cried.
She climbed unsteadily onto the windowsill, perched there for a
moment. Then she leaned forward, ducked her head, and slipped into the
sky.
Her magnificent wings unfolded in the smoke, in the hot ash, in the
smoldering remains of all of Alan's life in human society. Her
magnificent wings unfolded and caught the air with a sound he heard and
with a downdraft of warm air that blew his hair off his forehead like a
lover's hand, smoky smell and spicy smell.
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