“You’re the monsters!” the man with the bloody lip spat. “You’re the—” Sutter spun on his heel, raised his AK-47, and shot the man between the eyes. The gunshot blasted in the still air. The man dropped to the truck bed, already dead. “Hey!” Bishop shouted. Noah flinched. Kesler looked at the ground. Luther’s expression tightened. Reynoso looked sick. Truitt gaped, stunned. He shot a look at Noah as if expecting the chief of police to stop them, to do something. But Noah did nothing. He allowed it to happen, just as he’d allowed everything else.
Sighhhh. Snap out of it, Noah!
