The cashier nudged her husband's shoulder with considerable force, and Roger moved away from the door very, very slowly.
The gunman's eyes shifted to the clerk. “Move, Buckwheat.” Then to Savanna: “Move.”
Cautiously, Savanna and the clerk inched toward Roger.
The man named Omar applauded. “Good Buckwheat!”
“That's enough, man!” the clerk barked explosively, and moved toward him with clenched fists.
Omar exploded, too. He surged forward like a leather-clad tidal wave and struck the clerk across the jaw with the pistol grip. When the clerk rebounded he had a gun barrel hovering in his face.
Omar stepped away from him slowly, smiling like a lunatic.
“You 're a spunky buckaroo, my friend,” he said. “Hell, I think
I might even spare your sorry black ass. But we've got a credibility prob
