The Horseless Horsemen: Germaine — R.C. Miller

Gerrie felt Justice's mind slip as if it had been a horse stepping sideways off a loose rock in the field. She stepped into him and blocked his way as he turned toward the naked man lying unconscious on the floor. “NO! JUSTICE!! DON'T!!” She reached up and grabbed up his sweatshirt tightly with both hands, planted her feet, and closed her eyes as he started to force his way past her. She lowered her face, concentrating. The only thought in Justice's mind was to kill the monster on the floor. …to bend his neck back until it broke. …to push his pointed index finger straight through the man's ear and into his brain. …to twist the man's arms and legs until they came off. …YOU WILL NOT… It wasn't a plea as much as it was a command that Gerrie gave him. …but …Rita… The words were squeezed through his bent mind, barely able to escape the whirling blades of his rage and remain whole. Justice stopped in mid stride. He could not move. He could not reach the thing on the floor. No matter how hard he tried. …no matter how hard he struggled to push against the force that held him. …that block him. …that made him feel like he was encased in stone that had never been able to contain him in his entire lifetime. He could not lift his arms to sweep the child out of the way. He could not lift his leg to take a step. He howled the frustration of his immobility. He tried to jump past her. …past that which he could not get by. He could not jump. He was bound. …held here. …in this single place. He could not jump into the same space as this …monster. …this …slime. …this …piece of filth. …and explode him into very small pieces. He was being held. The killing beast inside of him screamed with outrage at both what the evil thing on the floor had done to the woman here …what he had been doing to Rita …and with the frustration of being kept from doing anything about it. The howls echoed inside of his skull, bouncing off the broken and razor sharp edges of his consciousness. …it …must …die…