MY HAND WAS TIGHTENED ON THE TRIGGER OF THE GUN WHILE TWO PHOSPHORESCENT EYES, STANDING OUT AGAINST THE SHADE OF THE TREES, STARED AT ME. AS IF MOVED BY A FELINE SPRING, THEY RUSHED FORWARD AS THE BLACK MASS OF THE BODY LAY ON THE DOOR. IT WAS AN INSTINCTIVE GESTURE, ALL THE BRAKES OF INTELLIGENCE BROKEN. THE SELF