I can see those... hideous beasts coming out of the burning walls. I hear Naughty John telling me--warning me--about my own brother! He knew about James, Sam. When I stand still, I see all of it. So I don't stand still, and I certainly don't go looking for more. And every night before bed, I pray for those pictures to go out of my head. When the prayers don't work, I ask the gin to do it.