Trudi > Books: my-boys (15) ×

“It wasn’t a scream,” insisted Benny. “It was a high-pitched yell.”
“Uh huh,” said Chong.
“A hunting call.”
“Right,” said Nix.
“Like eagles use.”
“Sure,” said Tom.
“It was a battle cry--.”
“Dude,” said Morgie, who sat on the bench, his shaved head still bandaged. “You screamed like a little girl. I’m kind of embarrassed to know you.”

Dean had never quite imagined his life might end like this. Naked in a Tijuana brothel with an eighty-year-old woman dressed like Janine from Spinal

Dean had never quite imagined his life might end like this. Naked in a Tijuana brothel with an eighty-year-old woman dressed like Janine from Spinal Tap sizing up his junk and looking distinctly unimpressed. He really wished the room wasn't so heavily air-conditioned.

”Sammy, you’re not going to let that happen to me are you? If it comes to that, you’ll take care of it, right?”
“Of course,” Sam said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“You weren’t supposed to answer that so quickly,” Dean said.“So that’s it? We just sit here and wait for me to Romero out so Dexter here can pop a cap in my rotten brain and put me out of my misery?”

Look at that woman. She was, what? Eighteen years old when she died. Might have been pretty. Those rags she’s wearing might have been a waitress’s uniform once….She had people at home who loved her….People who worried when she was late getting home.

They held each other and wept as the night closed its fist around their tiny shelter, and the world below them seethed with killers both living and dead.