When she straightened up again she was fine. Tanner was rubbing his thigh, yelling at her to follow him. Only, when his hand came away from his shorts, she saw that it was covered with blood. “Oh my God, you’ve been shot!” “Barely, Car, it’s nothing. Come on!” But they’d hesitated a second too long. A shout from above drew their attention to the roof they’d just escaped from; there, framed in the window, was the bearded man. He took a shot but it went wild, and as he crawled onto the roof and prepared to fire again, a second man burst through the window. He was enormous, completely bald, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. And he didn’t look like he planned on stopping as he crab-walked down the roof. His progress was awkward because of the gun he was holding, a big two-handed-grip model like you saw in news reports about gangs, the kind of automatic weapon that could cut down several victims at a time.
