‘It’s no use,’ he said. ‘This time it’s come for me. I should never have refused.’Fabrizio grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. ‘A man like you must have a gun somewhere, damn it! Get it and defend yourself. It’s only an animal. Ghosts don’t rip people apart the way he does.’But as he spoke he felt like his voice was coming from someone else’s mouth, as if those weren’t his own words. This feeling of alienation made him profoundly uneasy.‘You must have a weapon,’ he insisted, trying hard to pull himself together. ‘Get it and cover me while I try to reach my car. My rifle’s inside and it’s locked and loaded.’As he spoke he could see the soft reflection of the burnished barrel in the darkness, smell the glycerine oil mixed with the persistent scent of gunpowder. All his senses were enhanced as he sought a point of focus.The other man finally shook himself out of his trance. He got up, went towards the glass case and tried to control the trembling of his hands as he opened it.
