He saw the outline of a body lying under the soiled sheet and, bending forward, he looked into the dead face of Roxy.
In the faint flickering light he could see the mud in Roxy’s hair and nostrils. The light reflected in the glassy protruding eyes; across one of them a fly was moving with slow intentness.
Dillon’s cry woke Chrissie, who had been sleeping in a corner away from the bed. She started up, terrified at the sight of Dillon standing there; and as she saw him, the match went out. Roxy’s gun, that she had cuddled to her breast, went off in her twitching hand, and the bullet smashed into Dillon, sending him to the floor.
He had only a few seconds of pain before life went away from him.
THE END