"No," said McClure. "The executive order went through yesterday. All of the tombs are being deprived of their bodies. They'll be burned in the next week."
They fell together to the floor. Lantry got his hands on McClure's throat.
"Please," said McClure. "Do you see, you'll die."
"What do you mean?" cried Lantry.
"Once you kill all of us, and you're alone, you'll die! The hate will die. That hate is what moves you, nothing else! That envy moves you. Nothing else! You'll die, inevitably. You're not immortal. You're not even alive, you're nothing but a moving hate."
"I don't care!" screamed Lantry, and began choking the man, beating his head with his fists, crouched on the defenseless body. McClure looked up at him with dying eyes.
The front door opened. Two men came in.
"I say," said one of them. "What's going on? A new game?"
Lantry jumped back and began to run.
"Yes, a new game!" said McClure, struggling up. "Catch him and you win!"