A woman crawled out from the wreckage of her home, a bloody stump at her shoulder where her arm had been. She screamed at Buck, “Kill me! Kill me!” He shouted, “No!” and leaped from the Rover as she bent and grabbed a chunk of glass from a broken window and dragged it across her neck. Buck continued to yell as he sprinted to her. He only hoped she was too weak to do anything but superficial damage to her neck, and he prayed she would miss her carotid artery. He was within a few feet of her when she stared, startled. The glass broke and tinkled to the ground. She stepped back and tripped, her
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Look Buck, I don’t think these horrible deaths (setting aside how lovingly described they are for now) are a message meant for you. That’s the most selfish way to view a disaster of this scale.
