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"Sounds about right," Duvalier said.
They came, more like a single organism comprised of screaming heads and waving arms than a series of individuals, filling the kitchen with noise. Valentine brought his U-gun to bear, feeling the pounding on the other side of the fryer against his back.
"The roof!" Valentine shouted, firing. "Go, Ali!"
"I can jump better than either of you. I'll cover you."
More appeared and Valentine didn't wait to argue. He stood on a prep table and tossed his weapon up through the hole, hoping he didn't overthrow and land it in the parking lot. He grabbed an electrical conduit pipe and pulled himself up, got his foot into a light fixture, and climbed. The roof was thick with growth, and disturbed butterflies hurried into the sky.
Everready passed up his gun to Valentine, and Valentine heard Duvalier's Mossberg.
"Forget the packs!" she shouted.
Everready made it to the roof with less difficulty than Valentine.
Duvalier crouched to spring up through the hole in a single leap and they were on her. She spun like a dynamo, slamming one against the fryer, even now moving from the pressure at the other side, screaming as another sank its teeth into her shoulder.
"Goddamn!" Everready swore as yet another grabbed her.
Though mad, though they felt no pain, her attackers weren't Reapers. She pushed one off, kicked another, punched a third, pale limbs and coat a whirling blur of motion. Everready shot a fourth with his carbine.
Valentine dropped back through the hole.
"No!" Everready shouted.
Valentine picked up her sword cane and used it as a club, swinging at the heads and arms coming around the fryer.
"Jump!" Valentine yelled as Everready shot another one down. Valentine struck a ravie on the floor as it clawed at her ankle; his kick broke its jaw.
Duvalier crouched and jumped, and went up through the hole like a missile.
Valentine drew the blade from Duvalier's sword stick. Using the wooden tube in his other hand, he battered his way back toward the office. He felt hands clutch at his canvas boots and broke the grip-if they were snakeproof they'd probably be ravies-resistant- then cracked one across the jaw.
"Val, where are you going?" Duvalier shouted.
"Lemme at that bite, girl!" he heard Everready say.
"Diversion!" he shouted.
Screaming his own head off, Valentine rushed into the office. The back wall had bloody splatters and buckshot holes. A staggered ravie, holding himself up on the desk, received Valentine's boot to his chest, throwing him back onto one coming through the door. Valentine pinned the fresher one like a bug on a piece of Styrofoam with the sword point and vaulted through the door, running.
"Oily oily oxen free!" Valentine shouted, banging a Dumpster with the wooden half of Duvaliers sword cane. "Come out, come out, wherever you are. London Bridge is falling down!" He hurried around into the next parking lot, banging on empty car hoods.
Ravies turned and began to run toward him, screaming. Fine, better the oxygen flowing out of their pipes than into their bloodstreams.
"Meet me by the casinos tonight!" Valentine shouted to the pair on the roof. He saw Everready applying a dressing and the iodine bottle to Duvalier's shoulder.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Valentine called again. "Hey diddle diddle, the freak and the fiddle-"
The doughnut shop began to empty, and other ravies hurried up from the direction of the riverfront.
Just about. Just about!
"Ring around the rosy!"
The last few around the doughnut shop turned toward him.
"Warriors, come out to play-yay!" Valentine didn't know what childhood game the last one signified, but an old Wolf in Foxtrot Company used to employ the taunt on hidden Grogs, clinking a pair of whiskey bottles together.
