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slammed his forehead against it. Maureen heard the thump. The glass held. |
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At the sound of a clank, Maureen looked away from the brightly lighted scene. She saw Lou over to the side, a black shape against the darkness of the wall, lifting the iron lid off a barbecue kettle. He snatched something off a nearby tray. Carrying the lid in front of him like an odd, dome-shaped battle shield, he ran toward the door. |
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In the kitchen, Cyndi rushed up beside Sheila. She passed a butcher knife to Sheila and kept one for herself. |
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Doug dodged out of the way. Lou punched the iron lid against the door. The glass shattered, blasting inward, throwing shards at the girls as they staggered backward. |
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Lou leaped through the opening, shield first, right hand waving a yard-long barbecue fork overhead. |
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He went for Sheila, but Cyndi lunged in from the side, shrieking like a madwoman. As she stabbed downward, he whipped her across the face with the rod of his fork. The blow turned her head. Her body followed, and the blade cut only air. Doug, diving, took her down. |
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