Knock-knock-knock!
Somebody was rapping on the glass.
“Who the hell ...?” one of the cashiers barked, leaning back and staring down the line.
The tyrannosaur lifted its great head, swinging it toward the window, and the 4x4’s tires slammed back down. Everyone gasped.
“Nobody move!” the cashier shouted.
The rex stared at them, its dark eyes glinting under horny brows, its deep snout tapered like a wolf’s. Its jaw dropped to reveal rows of worn daggers.
The clerk murmured to himself: “Easy ... that’s a boy, nothing in here,” and to the others: “I think we’re okay. He can see us, but he can’t smell us. We’re just part of the scenery ...”
The rex turned away at last, stooping to chew blindly at its elusive prize again.
The red stain in the snow grew larger.
Roger held up his stump and
