It happened so fast, Mike told himself later, that no one had had any time to react. They had heard nothing. Two watches were posted, Nellie and Tim on opposite ends of the circle. Nellie facing the highway, Tim looking back towards the mall.

Molly had just stood up to walk over and talk to Nellie when the shot had come. The flat, loud crack of a high powered rifle. Mike's head spun hard as it automatically turned at the sound and tried to duck at the same time. And he saw Nellie falling and falling, and it seemed as though there were a fog around her head for a second and then it was gone, and in the silence he could hear blood pattering to the pavement.

Molly screamed and started to run, but Ronnie tackled her to the ground. Chloe and Bear were up, machine pistols in their hands, crouched low, running for that side of the circle. Mike, Josh and Tim ran behind them, crouched over as they ran for the truck where Nellie lay on the ground.

Mike made the truck, peered up over the fender, and the man was in plain sight. A fat Biker looking type standing next to an SUV pulled down onto the side of the highway.

The man began to raise his rifle once more when all four of them opened up on him. He dropped instantly but no one stopped firing. The machine pistols chewed holes through the thin sheet metal of the SUV, blew the windows out and flattened both tires on the side facing them.

The fire power lasted only a brief few seconds, but all of them had emptied their clips. They had all shot a second clip home before they had stopped to even draw a breath, but the momentum had ceased, and they all stood silently a moment longer, their eyes moving over the biker where he lay beside the truck.

Mike forced himself to look over at Nellie. The back of her head was gone. Her eyes were open and clear, as if she could see him, as if she were looking back at him. "He's dead," he said to Ronnie.

Molly fought her way free, scratching and biting, and ran to Nellie. She stopped just short of her, looked down at her for a moment, and then collapsed next to her sobbing. She pulled her toward her and tried to cradle her head, but looked down at the blood and gore that covered her hands as they slipped off her body.

Her own machine pistol hung at her side. She jerked it up quickly and fumbled with the safety.

"Molly," Mike said in a loud startled voice.

The tears flooded from her eyes. "Fucker killed me too," she whispered.

"Molly," Mike said again. He started for her.

"This whole world is so crazy," Molly said. She finally got the safety off. It seemed like minutes to Mike as he replayed it later, but it was only a split second from the time she had wrenched the pistol free to where she had thumbed off the safety.

He had thought... She means to make sure Nellie doesn't come back. Hard, but necessary. But Nellie wasn't going to come back. That was clear. His feet were moving. Carrying him toward her. Her eyes lifted and met his own briefly, and something there told him a different story, and he knew, but knowing did him no good. It didn't speed his feet, or help the words from his mouth any faster.

Molly bought the barrel up, pulled the strap from her shoulder and just as quickly reversed the barrel, putting it in her mouth. She looked at Mike once more. Blinked.

"Jesus Christ, Molly!" Mike screamed.

She pulled the trigger.

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