Valentine had never used a rifle bayonet for anything but opening cans since training. But he extended the one on the Type Three.
Valentine charged, yelling, his vision going red in fury and despair.
The ravies bared their teeth.
Valentine threw himself into them, lunging and wrenching and clubbing. A hand like a steel claw grabbed his arm, and he responded by giving way to the pull, throwing himself into the opponent. He clubbed the butt of his gun into the ravie's face again and again.
Another lunge and he lifted a young man off Bee like a kebab on his bayonet skewer.
He noticed Duvalier next to him, slashing like mad, killing anything that approached her like a bug zapper firing cold steel bolts.
He got Bee's arm around his shoulder and dragged her up. She managed to rise.
A storm of gunfire cut down the ravies in his way back to the V between Boneyard and Chuckwagon. Stuck stood atop the Bushmaster, firing his assault shotgun. Chieftain stood at his back, removing fingers and hands from ravies trying to climb atop the wreck.
Valentine realized he was bleeding but he felt no pain, fighting madness coursing through his nervous system.
He stumbled into the Boneyard, almost carrying Bee, rifle dangling by its sling and .45 pistol in his hand now.
"Graawg," Bee said, tears in her good eye, the other socket a gory pulp, pointing to bloody divots in her shoulder.
"Doc, you got a shot or something you can give her?" Valentine asked.
"I'll fix her up."
Valentine waved Stuck over.
"No, wounded inside!" he shouted, gesturing at the Bushmaster beneath him.
He emptied the shotgun into the remaining ravies all around.
Pkew!
A red blossom appeared in Stuck's shoulder, and he toppled off the APC.
Valentine looked back at the musical armored car. A rifle barrel projected from a rivet-trimmed slot in the front passenger-side window.
He could see the grinning faces of the driver and gunner behind their armored glass.
"Chieftain, take out those fuckers!" Valentine shouted.
The Bear nodded and disappeared.
Stuck, despite the rifle wound, was still swinging. He had a knife in each hand and used them like meathooks, plunging the blades in and pulling his opponents off their feet.
"You want a piece of me? There's plenty left, you assholes! Reapers and Grogs left enough for yas!"
Stuck led the remaining ravies down the road, shouting and gesticulating even as his steps grew more and more erratic.
While Stuck attracted ravie attention, Chieftain was dragging something away from the Bushmaster. Valentine realized it was the 20mm cannon. The big Bear, hair bristling up like a cockatiel's, righted it, braced it with his legs, and pointed it at the armored car.
Valentine looked at the armored car. The faces in the cabin weren't smiling anymore.
Krack! Krack! Krack! Krack! Krack!
The thick glass of the armored car had five holes with little auras of cracks all around, and blood splattered about on the inside.
And still the music played on.