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| He looked over the edge of the mountaintops with his eyes, what else?—and saw nothing that surprised him, so he went down into the next valley. There was a little house with a chimney, and water in a small stream. Also a horse or two, he didn't stop to count. He went right in and killed everyone in the place without looking in their faces, without noticing their sex or age. Then he went out and climbed a hill to the shelter of a big tree. He lit a cigarette, hand-rolled, and surveyed his kill. He remembered five bullets, which by definition was the number of dead because he was good at this by now. He'd been doing it a long time, wandering from place to place, killing people. The air tonight was clear and warm, so he decided to sleep outdoors. |
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