“s**t!” he cursed, hearing them bang against the floor, and whirled around—
Too late. With a hiss of escaping gas, one of the cylinders took off like a torpedo. He ducked as it whistled overhead and began ricocheting about the room— shattering vials, staving in walls, smashing out lighting fixtures. Levi hit the floor as broken glass rained down, adjusting his cap so that its bill faced forward and protected his face.
The footlocker-sized radio pulsed: Boom! Boom-boom! Boom! Boom-boom! Then the cylinder sheared through its center—spilling its electronic guts—and rebounded off the wall behind it, bouncing off yet another cylinder and throwing sparks.
KA-WHAM! There was an explosion. Hot shrapnel scattered; Levi buried his head in his arms; debris spatted his shoulders. Water poured out
