“Are you talking to me?” whined the girl, her voice seeming to bleed as if cut by invisible knives. “Why would you want me to go away all of a sudden?”
“No—that’s not what I meant—I ...”
Williams held up his rifle—pressed his forehead against it.
“Come out, Williams!”
“Yes, my love, come out!” A new voice. Her voice. Katrina.
Williams squeezed his eyes shut.
And then they were coming, he could hear their growls and the tapping of their awful sickle-claws against the cracked and broken pavement, and Ank was charging past him, breaking through the windows and walls, roaring defiantly, and when Williams looked up he saw the dinosaurs collide like thunderheads, heard Luna scream her piercing, drill bit scream, and knew they’d never make it to Barley, to say nothing of Tanelorn.
II
“Dam
