The images flickered through my mind like drug flashbacks, but unaccompanied by any real sense of revulsion or outrage. I remembered the sound of the guy’s neck bones cracking, but all I could think was: So that’s what it’s like when you break somebody in two. Maybe my nerves still hadn’t thawed out. I tried to feel sorry for the people who’d been killed but found, to my horror, that I couldn’t. I couldn’t feel any sympathy for them at all.
