Fuck, was that a chainsaw?
Using the cart for support, Dave managed to pull himself up just enough to get a decent view of what was going on. The smoke had cleared now, and he could see the girl on the floor clearly. Either she'd been killed in the smoke or some other Superman Wannabe must've jumped in to save her. He looked over at Roland, creeping towards some guy Dave'd never met. He'd realise it soon, that Dave was right, that keeping his head down was the way to go, that-
Dave blinked. No way. He had to be fucking seeing things. Had to have lost more blood than he'd thought from his cuts. No way had Roland just stabbed the guy in the neck. No, he wasn't seeing things. Behind his BS about saving people, Roland was worse
than the people he wanted to 'save' people from. The prick who joined in didn't surprise Dave, fucking Alex Rasputin, one of the hockey players. What did surprise Dave was when he picked up the chainsaw and sticking it in the poor bastard's stomach.
Dave turned green. Both Roland and that fucker Rasputin were covered in blood, organs, bone, flesh... He heaved. He couldn't hold it any longer. He was scared right now. Fucking scared. This was someone they'd never been provoked by, and they'd just slaughtered him like it was nothing
. What the fuck was Roland gonna do when he got back to the girl who'd tried to murder him with a trumpet and the guy who'd just fucking tackled him to stop
him doing shit like that?
"We gotta get the fuck out of here." He looked over to the Mexican girl. Surprisingly, the bitch who'd threatened someone with a trumpet had turned out to be the sane one. That was just great. "If Roland's gonna do something like that to some random fucker, he's probably got worse in store for the two of us that ACTUALLY hurt him. Just... follow my lead and let's hope they don't notice us, I guess. Unless you wanna lead the way."
Dave pulled himself to his feet. He hurt all over, his bloodied knees feeling the worst of it. It didn't matter. He just wanted the fuck out of there, right now. He checked that Roland and Ra Ra Rasputin were busy in their maniacal glee or whatever the fuck they'd do with the corpse, and made his way towards the exit as quickly as his busted kneecaps would take him.
((Dave Morrison, continued in Time Is Not On Our Side