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was none other than the same marine I’d tossed out of a speeding car earlier today.
    His suit was torn up, and he didn’t look happy to see me at all. There was a pistol in his hand. He had it raised up even with my head. I shied away, but he fired without compunction.
    For a split-second, I thought I was dead. In fact, I was sure of it. But the bullet sailed over my shoulder. It took out Kim instead. She’d been charging up behind me with that damned lamp again.
    Shot right between the eyes, she fell back, flopping and bleeding on the thin brown carpet.
    The killer looked at me and shook his head.
    “You can’t be a chicken if you want to survive,” he said to me matter-of-factly. “When they get like that, you have to take them out. Even if it’s a pretty girl.”
    My mouth hung open, and I stared at Kim. She was really dead on the floor. I couldn’t believe it.
    The marine wasn’t done yet. He drew a long knife and walked to Kim’s body. He chopped at her neck. I grappled with him, but he was strong. With two final quick strokes, the head was off.
    “You crazy bastard! You killed her!” I said, unable to comprehend what I was looking at. It was too much.
    “Damned straight I did. You can thank me later. Did you know it took me all frigging day to find you? I wanted to shoot you too—don’t think I didn’t. But Shaw’s got some kind of hard-on for you. Now, are you coming with me, or are you going to stay here and take the blame for this mess?”
    Stunned, I staggered out of the room after him. He waved at me with his pistol.
    The enormity of what I’d just seen ate at my mind. I’d witnessed the murder of a nice girl who I’d liked. A woman I’d made love to twice—just hours ago. She might have been out of her mind, but she hadn’t deserved death and mutilation.
    I felt a blind rage begin to build inside my skull. It must have been shock over the murder that triggered it. But instead of rushing to attack the murderer, I came up with an instant plan.
    “Cop!” I said, pointing down over the railing toward the street.
    He fell for it. It was a believable enough development.
    As he looked for the phantom police car, I stepped close and pinched a nerve in his blocky hand. Self-defense training had its benefits.
    I snatched the falling pistol out of the air and brought it into line with his body, backing away.
    He spun around to face me. It was then, I think, that he saw the murderous intent in my eyes. Oddly, he smiled when he recognized the expression.
    “Ah…” he said. “So you do have a sym. They told me you were harmless, but I can see it, looking right at me out of your eyes.”
    “Tell me your name,” I said with an animal voice that wasn’t entirely my own.
    “My friends call me Samson,” he said. “But you’re not my friend. You can call me—”
    Before he got out another word, I shot him seven times in the chest. I would have fired more rounds, but the pistol was empty.
    Then I threw his body over the railing onto some parked cars. A windshield shattered, and two car alarms began singing.
    Too bad murder wasn’t enough to stop a thing like Samson.
     
    * * *
     
    The stars exploded again after I killed Samson. I was on the run, out in the open, or I might have missed it.
    It was the middle of the night, and the rain had finally stopped, but I had no way of knowing the exact time. I’d ditched my wallet, my cellphone, and everything else that might have identified me or connected me in some way with the heinous crimes of the day.
    As I walked through a forested area, I came to a clearing and looked up. The sky had cleared and brightened. But it wasn’t the light of the Moon I was seeing—it was much too bright for that.
    The stars had come out from the behind the clouds, and they were moving. That stopped me in my tracks. The Moon was rising on the western horizon, but the light was coming from a glowing nebula that had appeared directly overhead. There was no missing this