Chapter 23 Green Silhouette
Matt swung. The ax-butt hit a collarbone with a dry pop. The guy didn't even yell; he just folded into the pile on the landing. Rex was a machine. He wasn't swinging; he was stabbing. He drove the brass stanchion into a man’s gut. The attacker puked clear fluid over Rex’s boots. "Knees, Matt. Low center," Rex muttered. He wasn't even breathing hard. He looked like he was doing the dishes. "Too many," Matt coughed. The smoke tasted like burnt hair and insulation. "They’re coming up the back way." "They’ll stop when they’re empty," Rex said. "Keep hitting." Three decks up, the madness had hit a wall. Sarah walked through the reserve. It was a dumpster. A man sat in the corner, his tongue bleeding as he licked syrup from a jagged peach tin. He didn't care about the metal cutting him. He
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