“I don’t see them.” Weeze ducked back under cover behind the ruined McDonalds.
Rocker peeked his head around the corner to stare up the road. There were burnt-out cars, some chunks of asphalt kicked up by previous fights, but no Pinkos. He said, “We wait.”
“Hopper said they were almost here, moving fast. Where are they? Maybe they saw him.”
“We’d be hearing weapons fire,” Rocker observed. “Anyway, he’s well-insulated, they won’t see him.” He leaned back out to look again, and then his body fell over, head missing. Only then did Weeze hear the crack of Pinko blaster fire.
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