But Tanner enjoyed killing.
The spanging sounds sounded harder. Outside the window frames, Stan could see gouts of concrete and stucco being chiseled out of the walls. There was practically nothing left of the frames themselves but splinters of wood, held in place by small lumps of disintegrating mortar.
They were taking the house apart, he thought. They were dissecting it as casually as you would a frog, until the entire front part of the room would be exposed and there would then be no place to hide.
He turned up a notch on his heater and sprayed the other side of the street with a wide angle beam. There was an abrupt cessation of noise and then it started in again, louder than before. The small bedroom was becoming foggy with concrete and brick dust.
He caught sight of a figure moving behind the shrubs across the street and took careful aim. There was a sharp cry and then he had to dodge quickly back inside the window. Something had grazed his cheek, cutting it so a thin stream of blood angled down from the cheek bone.
He waited a second and stole another quick look out.
Two men had taken refuge behind some trees, further down the block. He took aim, then hesitated. The frozen figures of the two boys who had been playing catch were directly in the line of fire.
He tightened his finger, then sweat crept into the corners of his eyes and he blinked for a moment. He took aim again ... and wavered slightly. The sweat was heavier now and he could feel it soak the shirt on his back. Once more ... only apes....
"What are you waiting for?"
Stan calmly chose another target.