“Stop," Kincaid said in a calm voice. "Unclench.""Unclench what?" Murphy demanded."Unclench your ass.""Excuse me?""You're going to trip the beam. You need another quarter inch. Relax.""I am relaxed," Murphy growled."Oh," Kincaid said. "Damn, great ass then.”
“We will outstretch the hand if you unclench your fist. ”
“We will extend our arms to you[world] if you unclench your fists.”
“Slowly, desolately, the fist of what we'd done unclenched the clawed palm of what we'd become.”
“Kincaid, evidently exhausted himself, drew a gun, took the safety off, placed it on his chest, and went to sleep too."It's cute," I whispered to Murphy. "He has a teddy Glock.”
“Blake jumped up again, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I hurt you. I’m useless,” he whispered harshly.“Stop. Stop, Blake.” She tried to speak calmly. “When you hurt yourself, it hurts me.” She reached out to take one of his bloody, torn hands.”