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down.
Get the boyget the whoreget them bothget them all
get-"
A single sharp report rang out.
Everything frozeas if we were a classroom full of unruly children and the teacher had
just stepped back in and shut the door sharply. Myron LaFleur and Mr. McVey stopped
where they wereabout ten paces away. Myron looked back uncertainly at the butcher.
He didn't look back or even seem to realize that LaFleur was there. Mr. McVey had a look
I had seen on too many other faces in the last two days. He had gone over. His mind had
snapped.
Myron backed upstaring at Ollie Weeks with wideningfearful eyes. His backing-up
became a run. He turned the corner of the aisleskidded on a canfell downscrambled
up againand was gone.
Ollie stood in the classic target shooter's positionAmanda's gun clasped in both hands.
Mrs. Carmody still stood at the head of the checkout lane. Both of her liver-spotted
hands were clasped over her stomach. Blood poured out between her fingers and
splashed her yellow slacks.
Her mouth opened and closed. Once. Twice. She was trying to talk. At last she made it.
You will all die out there
she said,uggs on sale kids, and then she pitched slowly forward. Her purse
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