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crouched on either side of him. They held their knives ready. The waitress cowered behind Lynn, hanging onto her shoulders and gazing with terror at the approaching mob. |
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At least the crazies were holding back. |
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But John knew he only had three rounds left in the gun. He could feel the weight of the extra cartridges in his shirt pocket. |
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He wouldn't have time to reload. |
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Take out the ones with the best weapons: the bearded guy with the axe; the woman in panty-hose who had the hatchet; the fat naked guy with the meat cleaver. |
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That would still leave people with knives, hammers, screwdrivers, crowbars and one crazy bastard with pruning shears. |
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They'd all be on him the instant they realized his gun was empty. |
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John knew he was good. In hand-to-hand combat, he could take any of them. |
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He glanced at Lynn. 'When I start shooting, run for it.' |
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She shook her head. 'I'm not leaving without you.' |
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'You've got to. You've gotta get out of this.' |
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'Just do it. Get home to Kara.' He elbowed Cassy. 'Run for it when I open fire. You and Lynn.' |
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