"Let me," said Filomena writhing, with a shrill scream, from the clutches of Joseph, who kept her in the other room. He passed the door like a possessed, her nightgown crumpled by the short rest, long untidy hair that swayed with each step the upset on the face and hands were stretched forward, those strong hands, accustomed to fatigue. Bernard inadvertently bent over stroking the hair as a Magdalene Christ with his "Nardù, Mom .. answer. " A voice alarm coming from the other room, the voice of a girl, "They're going from the back!" Victory in the family was called Vevina. Joseph tried the rifle with eyes, was there lying on the floor, ready again. Grabbed him, ducking Antonio, ran to the window of the room and began firing as hell a fury toward those shadows, load and shoot with the power of anger inside me, with tears in his eyes that made those flickering silhouettes. Load and shoot, "Go away, monsters, demons!"
Abel and Argentina were hiding under the bed, they were both teenagers. The bedroom door was left open when the man began firing a few shots and had penetrated into the room, tearing the clothes hanging. The cabinet was not there, the clothes were hung from a pole and covered with a cloth. Argentina Abel sobbed while he held her trying to reassure her, "You'll see what time they go," and meanwhile, hoped in vain to wake up from this horrible nightmare.
Cor. was a wealthy young man, was being a professional mediator. Three times a week went by horse-drawn carriage with his girlfriend who lived in cavat a Tortoreto. That evening he had lingered a bit ', after the customary visit had made a stop at the inn. With the warmth in the body of the wine poured, the coolness of the night are better addressed. From the shortcut cavat turned toward the via della Quercia. His trotting mare proceeded on the dirt road, pushing the trees to the passage. Cor. felt the heavy eyelids, perhaps for the quart or guzzling the monotonous cadence of hooves. Then he broke into the monotony of the strokes and he revived. Gunfire that followed as a battery of fireworks. He could see the flashes at the side of the road, shining through the vegetation. Cor. spurred the mare repeatedly hitting it with the reins, in a panic. The animal galloped wildly down the path, too frightened by the gunshots that echoed in his chest. There was a shooting in progress, the flashes of gunfire lit corners of a house, those of D'Angelo "Gone are the robbers from Creve plan," said Cor. Then he looked away from that home and concentrated on his salvation. He continued to urge the horse raised at every upheaval from the bench of the gig. Finally reached the main road and disappeared.
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