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Lock shot him. Several times. It was pretty clear the first one had done the job, but Lock kept going until he stopped feeling so creeped out. As the shots finished echoing through the wood, something deeper in the copse thudded to the ground with the same distinctive sound as the cat in the kitchen. It had some weight to it. All of them were glad that this dream had fallen asleep before they’d had a chance to meet it.
Your head’s full of dreams. They must remember. Does any part of you still look at the sky and hurt?
We used to hear the stars, too. When people stopped talking, there was silence. Now you could shut every mouth on the planet and there’d still be a hum. Air-conditioning groaning from the vent beside you. Semi trucks hissing on a highway miles away. A plane complaining ten thousand feet above you. Silence is an extinct word.
Every emotion that wasn’t happiness in Ronan usually presented itself as anger.
“Thank God,” Declan said, retrieving his car keys. “You can if you like,” Matthew said. “But I dressed myself.” He shot a look at Ronan to make sure his joke had been funny.
He was not eaten. It was worse.
