Chapter 7
Hunter sat in the living room’s darkness, not wanting any light, any sound, anything at all, really. He felt shaken and oddly numb. He had a tumbler of scotch on the end table next to him and gulped half its contents down, gasping and sputtering after he swallowed, his eyes tearing up. But the alcohol helped to dispel the shaking that had begun in the cab on the way home.
He thought he should be feeling more than this zombielike numbness. Rage, violation, even sadness seemed to him to be more reasonable reactions to what had just happened. He supposed they might come in time or appear later in his nightmares. He wished he could erase the man’s pale eyes from his memory. For some reason they were the creepiest and worst memento of his encounter.
For all his fears of the city an
