Hitchhikers (Wolf Point #1)

-26-

There is a clock ticking loudly in the kitchen, and the fabric on the couch scratches my face. I can hear Bev's husband snoring behind their closed door.

I flop onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. I should be tired, yet my eyes refuse to close. I keep returning to those two teenagers in the van. Did they deserve what they got? During these three years I haven't really thought about whether those I killed deserved it, not until Paul. It had always sickened me and made me feel like a monster. I think back to that old man, the one who I killed in his wife's arms

(the one whose house "mysteriously" burned down right after I left)

Did he deserve to die? All those nosy questions, they had made me angry. Or maybe irritated is a better word. Is that enough reason? I think of others, so many others.

(did my father deserve to die? My uncles?)

I sigh and roll onto my side. So many dead, it's a strain to think on all of them, all the whys, since I usually began panicking at the first sign of the blackouts. Was it something a person said, a careless dannyboy that set me off?

There were no bite marks on those two today. I did not kill them out of hunger. But I didn't kill those squirrels in the forest because they offended me or meant me harm.

The night wears on. My eyes itch. The clock ticks.