"Dammit!" Hazel growled. "Keep hold of him!" She said to Haley. Hazel dropped Amos's body at the top of the stairs. He was already concussed, and better concussed than dead she resolved.

Amos' rifle was slung over her back. She swung it around and grabbed it in her right hand, the shopping bag still hanging off of her shoulder and bouncing off of her hip. She pulled back the bolt back, mimicking Amos' movements she had seen several times earlier that night. She fired the rifle, hoping there were enough bullets left. She didn't know how many were in there or how many had been fired.

She was really angry. The Tartok was in the way of the attic, and even if she drove it back, would that be enough to give them time to get into the attic? Was there even anyone left up there?

She fired the rifle, trying to buy enough time to figure out if it was worth it to try to get to the attic or if there was anywhere else she and Haley could hide. And Courtney, too, of course, so long as she survived being manhandled by the Tartok.