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sounds I’d ever heard.
    And it was coming from the next table over. We couldn’t have been any closer.

Chapter 10
    MY HEAD SNAPPED sharply to the left, my eyes tracing the horrible sound to its source. As soon as I saw what was happening, I wished that I hadn’t. But it was too late and I couldn’t turn away. I couldn’t do anything, actually. It was over so fast, I couldn’t even get out of my chair to help.
    Two men.
    One knife.
    Both eyes!
    A chorus of shouts and screams flooded the restaurant as the man wielding the knife let go of the other man’s head, the blood spouting from his eye sockets as he collapsed onto the table. A little spark was triggered in the back of my brain.
I know him. I recognize him.
    Not the man with the knife, not the killer. He didn’t look familiar; he didn’t even look human.
    He moved lightning fast—and yet there wasn’t a trace ofemotion coming from him. He coolly tucked away the knife in his jacket, then bent down to whisper something in his victim’s ear.
    I couldn’t hear it… but he definitely whispered in the dying man’s ear.
    For the first time, I glanced over at Dwayne, who looked exactly as I felt. In complete shock. I could tell he hadn’t heard the killer’s whisper either.
    What came next, though, everyone in Lombardo’s clearly heard.
    The killer began walking toward the door to the kitchen when a man behind him shouted, “Freeze!”
    I turned to see
two
men with guns drawn. Cops? If they were, they were out of uniform.
    “I said,
freeze!
” the one repeated.
    From twenty feet away they had the killer dead in their sights. At least that’s the way it looked.
    Plates, silverware, and entire tables went crashing as people scrambled for their lives to get out of the way of whatever might happen next.
    The killer stopped, turning to the two men and their guns. Sunglasses blocked his eyes.
    He said nothing. He barely moved.
    “Put your hands up slowly!” the second man barked. They certainly sounded like cops.
    The killer just smiled. It was a sick, twisted grin that seemed tailor-made to the crime he’d just committed. His hands, however, remained at his sides.
    “Put your fuckin’ hands up!”
came the second warning.
    My eyes pinballed back and forth between the killer andthe two men. It was a standoff so far. But something had to give.
Or someone
. And everything, including the barrels of two guns, was pointing at the killer.
    Suddenly his hands jolted up, but not before first taking a detour. As fast as you can say Travis Bickle, the killer reached into his jacket, removing two guns of his own.
    You talkin’ to me? Are you talkin’ to me?
    Who the fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to?
    Dwayne’s reflexes were still there, and he dove to the floor. I was right behind him, closing my eyes as sheer pandemonium broke out above our heads. There were countless gunshots. People screaming.
    People dying
.
    Finally, when it all stopped, when all I could hear were the horrified sobs and gasps of everyone down on the floor around me, I opened my eyes again.
    And I nearly threw up.
    There, in a pool of blood on the polished hardwood floor of the restaurant, was one freshly carved-out eyeball staring up at me.

Chapter 11
    MY LEGS WERE rubbery and my stomach rolled as I slowly stood, gazing at a sea of overturned tables and chairs, smashed plates, scattered silverware and food. Shocked and bewildered, everyone was asking everyone else the same question.
    “Are you okay?”
    The answers were quickly drowned out by the piercing sound of sirens. I barely had time to grab my tape recorder as the New York police descended on the restaurant, blocking off all the exits and corralling us like sheep in the bar area.
    Soon, everyone was asking a different question.
    “Haven’t we been through enough already?”
    A few ambitious cops fanned out among us, quickly trying to get as much information as they could before turning the investigation over to the detectives.