14
My mind works overtime. I envisage Quell shooting Big Daddy and the momentum of his mass pushing him forward and skewering her dead. I see her shoot him dead, then come up against a true enemy whose teeth want to rip her apart, only to find her extra bullet is no longer there. A pull of the trigger and an empty click. I’m not thinking straight, and I turn to the bull Triceratops and run towards him.
‘Outta my way!’ I hear Quell shout. ‘I got this!’
‘No,’ I say, and I’m sure she can’t hear me. ‘I’ve got this.’
Big Daddy doesn’t flinch at my change in direction. He steamrolls ahead. It’s like a train speeding towards a child’s trike. If we make contact I’ll be lying on the ground motionless like Baby T and he’ll gut my insides with his horns. I am the perceived enemy of the herd, afte
