Mr. Stewart's body fell from the blood-smeared seat of the coach, an expression of surprise etched into his face. The skittish horses whinnied as Robert approached. He briefly considered shooting them, too. But his foremost objective was killing the occupant of the coach, and the thrill of doing so spurred him on. He jerked the coach door open.
"Get out, Lily."
Startled by the use of her name, Lily froze. She could not see Robert's face, only his silhouette against the intense flames behind him. It seemed bizarre that heavy rain was falling while that fire burned so bright. The cold steel of Robert's gun barrel against her hand broke the spell of her brief fascination. Bewildered, Lily motioned the gun away from her.
Robert grasped her waving arm and pulled her roughly from the coach. "What's the matter, love? Aren't you glad to see me?"
In the glare of the firelight, Lily got her first glimpse of the grotesque carnage at the campsite. Horrified, she turned her head and saw Mr. Stewart's bullet-ridden body sprawled in the mud near the coach wheel. Lily screamed, then tried to escape Robert's grip. She wanted to run, to be anywhere but here in the midst of such madness.
"Who killed all these people--my God, did you kill them?" A blast of cold rainwater steadied her. "Why--?"
Robert released her suddenly. Lily struggled to maintain her balance in the slippery mud and the water rising beneath her feet. Constant flashes of lightning revealed Robert's malevolent expression. He raised his arm and leveled the gun at her chest. "A million-and-a-half dollars for a start, and I'll be the only one alive to spend it."
