The Mercy of Snakes (Nameless: Season One, #5)

by Dean Koontz

First are those for whom the words right and wrong have no meaning other than for such as traffic directions: You turn right at the second stoplight; if you turn left, you’ve gone wrong. They are nihilists, though not all of them know it and though many of them would bristle at the label. All such people are difficult to trust: some are dangerous, and some are lethal sociopaths. Second are those who recognize right and wrong, a natural tao, and who try to live by what is right, as much as they can. These people are aware that real and implacable evil exists in the world; however, as a psychological defense mechanism, many of them grossly underestimate the prevalence of it. Third are those who, busy with their lives, haven’t given much thought to right and wrong. When encountering profound evil, they are not sure what to think about it, and they seek to understand it as a complex phenomenon when in fact it’s simple. By imagining evil as infinitely nuanced, they drain all the bloody color out of it, render it in grays, and move on. This is the largest group.

Members of the second group, who underestimate the prevalence of evil, are those most often targeted by it. They can pretty much be trusted not to do profound evil themselves, but they can’t be counted on to recognize clues that might determine which of their neighbors has ten dismembered bodies buried in his basement. The third type, those who patiently analyze evil from numerous psychological and sociological perspectives until its sharp shiny edges are dull and blurry, are too indecisive to be allies in any fraught encounter with darkness. In fact, they are often likely to have overanalyzed the situation to such an extent that they have talked themselves into an alliance with monsters.