in the face as he slid down the door facing and she shot him in the face as he sat on the floor and she ran to him and shot him twice in the face as he sprawled against the wall, scalp down to his chin and his hair on fire.
* * *
Willy tore up a sheet and went to look for Will. His legs were shaking and he fell several times crossing the yard.
The sheriff's deputies and ambulances came before Molly ever thought to call them. She was taking a shower when they came in the house behind their pistols. She was scrubbing hard at the flecks of blood and bone on her face and hair and she couldn't answer when a deputy tried to talk to her through the shower curtain.
One of the deputies finally picked up the dangling telephone receiver and talked to Crawford in Washington, who had heard the shots and summoned them.
"I don't know, they're bringing him in now," the deputy said. He looked out the window as the litter passed. "It don't look good to me," he said.
Chapter 54
On the wall at the foot of the bed there was a clock with numbers large enough to read through the drugs and the pain.
When Will Graham could open his right eye, he saw the clock and knew where he was - an intensive-care unit. He knew to watch the clock. Its movement assured him that this was passing, would pass.
That's what it was there for.
It said four o'clock. He had no idea which four o'clock and he didn't care, as long as the hands were moving. He drifted away.
The clock said eight when he opened his eye again.
Someone was to the side of him. Cautiously he turned his eye. It was Molly, looking out the window. She was thin. He tried to speak, but a great ache filled the left side of his head when he moved his jaw. His head and his chest did not throb together. It was more of a syncopation. He made a noise as she left the room.
The window was light when they pulled and tugged at him and did things that made the cords in his neck stand out.
Yellow light when he saw Crawford's face over him.
Graham managed to wink. When Crawford grinned, Graham could see a piece of spinach between his teeth.
Odd. Crawford eschewed most vegetables.
Graham made writing motions on the sheet beneath his hand.
Crawford slid his notebook under Graham's hand and put a pen between his fingers.
"Willy OK," he wrote.
"Yeah, he's fine," Crawford said. "Molly too. She's been in here while you were asleep. Dolarhyde's dead, Will. I promise you, he's dead. I took the prints myself and had Price match them. There's no question. He's dead."
Graham drew a question mark on the pad.
"We'll get into it. I'll be here, I can tell you the whole thing when you feel good. They only give me five minutes."
"Now," Graham wrote.
"Has the doctor talked to you? No? About you first - you'll be okay. Your eye's just swollen shut from a deep stab wound in the face. They've got it fixed, but it'll take time. They took out your spleen. But who needs a spleen? Price left his inBurmain '41."
A nurse pecked on the glass.
"I've got to go. They don't respect credentials, nothing, around here. They just throw you out when the time's up. See you later."
Molly was in the ICU waiting room. A lot of tired people were.
Crawford went to her. "Molly..."
"Hello, Jack," she said. "You're looking really well. Want to give him a face transplant?"
"Don't, Molly."
"Did you look at him?"
"Yes."
"I didn't think I could look at him, but I did."
"They'll fix him up. The doctor told me. They can do it. You want somebody to stay with you, Molly? I brought Phyllis down, she - "
"No. Don't do anything else for me."
She turned away, fumbling for a tissue. He saw the letter when she opened her purse: expensive mauve stationery that he had seen before.
Crawford hated this. He had to do it.
"Molly."
"What is it?"
"Will got a letter?"
"Yes."
"Did the nurse give it to you?"
"Yes, she gave it to me. They're holding some flowers from all his friends inWashington, too."
"May I see the letter?"
"I'll give it to him when he feels like it."
"Please let me see it."
"Why?"
"Because he doesn't need to hear from... that particular person.
Something was wrong with the expression on his face and she looked down at the letter and dropped it, purse and all. A