Mark grabbed a steel claw hammer from under his seat. As Rebecca turned to look at him, he swung the hammer at her head. The face of the hammer collided with her left temple. The right side of her face collided with the window. Her head spun, she was dazed, but she stayed conscious. So, Mark struck her again—and again. With the third blow, a small, vertical gash stretched on her left temple. Blood trickled from the wound and rolled down her cheek. “It’s better this way,” Mark whispered.
