“How do you know it’s a shark knife?” I asked.
“We figured the length, breadth, thickness of the blade, also the sharpness. Also I got an isotopic analysis of the steel from particles in the bone. It’s a shark knife, all right. Let’s sit down.”
Another movie started. My eyes ached, from straining at the screen and from the smoke-filled air. The smell was bad, too. I kept imagining I was inhaling about ten million germs a second. Six horror movies had gone by. And it was hot in there, but I kept getting chills up and down my arms.
I wasn’t discriminating by this time. The monsters all looked alike, and the women being dragged away to a hideous fate, their clothes mostly ripped off, screaming and screaming, all looked alike to me, and their screams sounded the same, all phony and unconvin
