He sagged toward the table, reaching for the Cobray. Kristine rushed him, but there was a sofa blocking her path and she was only halfway there when the automatic went off. Lumps of hot metal flew through the air, striking her in the face and body, and for a moment she thought how easy and painless it was to die. Then she realized that they were the ejected shell casings. The bullets themselves were ripping into the walls and ceiling, having passed through the body of the collapsing gunman.

The clattering stopped as his finger released the trigger. Kristine started trembling all over. She looked at the bound couple, then at the boy standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was holding the dart gun that her mother had given Thomas. The foam projectile lay on the floor beside the dead gunman.

David looked at his father, then surveyed the scene of carnage with an expression of awe.

“Coo-ul!” he said.