Michael Malone - Weebly

savage. Henry rammed his shoulder at the front door,
already jumping from the step when it didn't open,
already running around the side of the house, with Night
barking next to him, kicking Night down and pulling
with both hands on the back sliding door. Then to the
front again, to the large picture window, between the
curtains a crack of light. On the floor somebody was on
a woman. He had her on her stomach, her head
crushed into the carpet; her legs were kicking and he
was hurting her. From the highway Henry could hear
sirens bleat, the noise still far away, coming toward him.
He hauled a big, jagged flagstone out of the dirt and
hurled it through the glass. Beside him, Night, wild,
jumping.
With his wadded jacket, the gun in its pocket giving
weight, he beat away the broken glass. Night leaped
into the room. As Henry lifted his leg over the ledge, he
saw the man, his face and torso clawed bloody,
scrabble off the woman, his penis bobbing, coated and
slimy, his pants bunched around his ankles, as he
crawled for something on the rug. The woman wasn't
Chin, but a blonde woman older than Chin. Blood on