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Show Coffee Drinkers Preferred Page 198 of 307 Before he tripped, I noticed a jagged shard of glass protruding from his cheek, under his right eye. What did he do, break the window with his face? If he was going to break the window why not just break the window and come through it after all the glass settled? The element of surprise? He had that in spades. I opened the door. "Sarah, run!" Heracles fly with me now. I dove. How would I hold him down? He was tangled in the curtains and sprawling backwards over the couch. I rushed to him and rammed my arm up under his chin. I kept telling myself I only needed to restrain him. I'm very bad with the hurting-other-people thing. I think some of us are just born that way. The great captains of industry can shite all over mankind and monsters like Dale can literally crush people with their fists but some of us are just born with the inability to hurt other people, no matter how badly we were abused as children. Perhaps that is what makes me the world's worst fighter. Picture Urkel. But I was earnest and I tried. I punched him in his gut. I punched him in his solar plexus, his back arching over the sofa. My idiocy did buy Sarah the couple of seconds she needed to grab the kids and race out the front door. I think I remember flying through the air before everything went black. |