The Snowman holds it up higher in response, tipping it to showcase the ridges where teeth have gnawed bone.
“Jesus Christ! Put that goddamn thing down and raise your hands above your head!”
The Snowman falters. The expression on his face is now one of confusion. He leans forward to set the head on the floor and barely keeps from collapsing. Something falls from the inside pocket of his jacket and makes a clattering sound when it strikes the tile.
“Back away from the knife!” the Starman shouts.
More screaming from the back of the restaurant.
The Snowman shakes his head and smiles again. This is obviously just a misunderstanding. It’s just a skinning knife. The tip isn’t even sharp anymore after using it to carve the names of the dead onto the wall. He can prove it. He can just pull it out of its scabbard and show the Starman that the blunted tip isn’t even sharp enough to prick his thumb.
“Back away from it! This is your last warning! Back away from the weapon!”
The Snowman grabs the knife from the floor, grips it by the hilt, and pulls-
The report is deafening.
The Snowman’s head snaps backward as he’s tossed toward the door.
The glass spider-webs away from the bullet hole.
It falls in shards onto the Snowman.
A crimson pool seeps out from beneath his head.
An arc of blood slowly dissociates into slender ribbons that trickle down the inside of the plate glass window above the scarlet-speckled booths, dribbling down the words painted on the opposite side of the glass.
ALFERD PACKER GRILL
HOME OF THE WORLD FAMOUS 72 oz. MONSTER SIRLOIN
ATTENTION BIG GAME HUNTERS:
WELCOME TO BIGFOOT COUNTRY!