The world tilts. It feels like the aftermath of an explosion. Carver pushes himself up, tries to stand, but his legs are like rubber and he stumbles. Has to brace himself against the bed as the leader stalks closer, drawing a knife. Advancing on Pope.

No, Carver thinks, no, no, no.

He's crying when he lashes out. Grabbing the leader's wrist and twisting hard. The fucker's so surprised he drops the blade and it's easy, isn't it, just to open his belly up so his guts spill out.