Infante

I raised my gun, firing as Helen and Mary attacked in concert, moving out of the space between vat and pallet, and from the damaged stack of crates behind the man.  My bullets struck the side of his head, his ear, his temple, distracting him while Mary threw knives.  Helen leaped onto his back, grabbing one knife that had lodged in his shoulder, using it as a handhold to climb up.

> . [...]

He hurled himself at the pillar, to sandwich Helen between himself and it.  She jumped clear, still holdng the thread so it pulled taut, and -while Mary and I both emptied our guns into the side and back of his head- kicked Helen.

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