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They looked like the real article, and nobody was bothering them. Not yet. |
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John made his way toward them. Just get to them, he thought. Stay there, shoot anyone who tries to take them. But even with the extra bullets in his pocket, he knew he didn't have enough ammo to kill all the crazies. |
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He glimpsed someone rushing at him from the side. He whirled. A man with a steak knife. Black face grinning. |
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He swung the revolver up. |
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As the knife flashed down at his chest, John sidestepped and chopped Steve's wrist. The knife flipped away. He slammed the gun barrel against Steve's head. The man started to drop. John grabbed the front of his shirt and hurled him sideways, watched as he toppled over the back of a woman hunched over bloody remains, watched him roll and come to a stop near Lynn's feet. |
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John spotted Steve's wife near the open doors. She was on her knees, biting the face of a screaming man while a guy with a pocket knife split open the man's leg from hip to knee. |
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John rushed to get her. Somebody grabbed his ankle. He pulled free, leaped over a couple of struggling women, and saw the gal with the axe prance in from the right. She had the axe overhead. Maybe she wasn't going for Carol. John decided he didn't care who she was going for. |
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