This was no surprise, I knew he often touched himself in his sleep... it was almost erotic, waking up at times and finding him, deep asleep, touching ...imself, murmuring my name. I watched him for a minute more, walked over to the bed and started undressing. I leaned over him and kissed his lips softly, just to start myself off. A good kiss is an aphrodisiac unto itself, right? As I did so he moaned slightly, that still-asleep, half pleasure, stretching your muscles out, oh-that's-so-good kind. Her portable electric was covered now, for she had just finished the final revisions on her article for the magazine, and for the first time in a long while she had no impending deadlines or other responsibilities. Time enough to begin making friends with Cathy once more, and to make friends with all Cathy's chums, too. This young man for example. She looked at him with a smile. He was a beautiful boy, she thought, as lovely in his own way as Cathy was in hers. There was such an aura of young. I gathered the three damaged bundles and placed them in the hollow of the tree with the dark glasses.I was pretty nervous as I approached my truck. I half expected a dozen police cars to screech to a halt, with cops jumping out and ordering me to put my hands up. Nothing happened. I started my truck and drove in the opposite direction of the bank.It took a couple of hours for me to relax. It seemed like I had gotten away with the bank robbery! My accomplice didn’t know my name, so he couldn’t. Inside I found several people -- all of them quite dead, lying on the floor or slumped over blackjack tables and roulette wheels.Something, apparently, had come through and killed everybody in the whole town.Everybody except me. Maybe Willard hadn't even had a stroke, down in the mine. Maybe whatever killed all these people had killed him, too.Or maybe the only reason I wasn't dead was that I'd been down there, trapped underground in Uncle Willard's mine.None of the dead people I saw was marked.