The only way I could even sleep last night was with Dave’s sweatshirt on and Amy’s bear in my arms. It was the only way I could keep from sleeping in the cab of the truck with the radio on. Between Lynch and the rest of the Marines, we didn’t have to pull watches. Most of the other people with us and the Marines are crammed into a couple of Greyhound buses Lynch and his men brought back from Salina late last night. Seems like the bastard knew someone was going to try something stupid while he was gone. He didn’t seem surprised when I told him I’d shot Hodges. All he asked was “Did the sumbitch need shootin’?” Porsche answered that more enthusiastically than I could. Dave has a rule about guns. Actually he has several, but the gist of it is don’t point a gun at someone unless you’re ready to pull the trigger. It bothers me that I didn’t even think about it when I shot Hodges. The sky behind us was red this morning, and I could see the smoke from Kansas City on the horizon.
