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Nature is supposed to prevent something like that from being born. When something that monstrous forms in the womb, nature is supposed to ensure it is aborted before it can be carried to term. What Lyon saw at the kitchen window- something like that is not supposed to live. After he gets over the initial shock, Lyon scrambles to his feet, stumbling backward, reversing so hard into the kitchen stove that it rears up on its back two legs, Lyon's eyes flashed open and his heart full of such terror that it feels as if it's trying to escape his chest, having already crawled up into the base of his throat, cowering there as it pounds out its fear. Lyon wishes he had a gun. Yes, this New York liberal who has broadcast commentaries in support of restrictions on the purchase and ownership of handguns, now he wants a big ugly pistol in his hand-or an automatic assault rifle, something that fires the most powerful and deadly projectiles ever manufactured, and Lyon wouldn't care if the weapon was unregistered, stolen, serial number filed off, used in heinous crimes, inappropriate for hunting, the more of a man-killer the better. He would sign a lifetime membership to the NRA and appear in their magazine ads and tithe to them ten percent of his income, do anything right now to have in his hand a big goddamn loaded gun.
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