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and mixed himself another drink. A Xanax, three Tylenol capsules, five vitamin C tablets, two fish-liver-oil pills, a selenium tablet, and three tabs of coral calcium followed, each washed down with a generous gulp of gin. After finishing the glass, he mixed himself another and went to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room.
“What’s wrong with fishing?” “I find it quotidian in the extreme.” “Quotidian. Right.”
meaning very common in nature
“Loose dogs are a thing of the past. They’re unpredictable, noisy, and often end up attacking the wrong person. Dogs are now only used for tracking. What we have to watch out for will be far more subtle.”
Ironically, it was dogs that stopped them.
“Either you catch the perp or you don’t. So what’s there to spin?”
There was no evidence of it, but—as Proctor well knew—the lack of evidence of being followed was not evidence of a lack of being followed.
I had to read this a couple of times to get it. The words are braided together in an interesting way.
“Send a couple of your guards down to the chemistry lab. I need bottles of sulfuric acid and nitric acid. They’ll find them where the hazardous chemicals are stored.” “May I ask—?”
The clouds were tumbling across the peak, the mountain groaning and shaking with each explosion—and then they parted, exposing the ridge to the glare of the eruptions: and in that moment he spied, silhouetted against the horrid lambent glow, a figure in white, dancing . . . And despite the roar of the wind and the rumbling of the mountain, he was sure he could hear a shrill, manic laughter echoing down toward him . . .
