Williams shimmied forward on his elbows and braced his rifle against the building’s cornice. The brigands were working their way down the slope, completely ignorant of what was coming—until the raptors began leaping from the overgrowth and knocking them down, tearing out their throats, gutting them with their sickle-claws.
“They’ll come for us when they’ve finished,” shouted Williams, scrambling to his feet. “What’s the plan?”
He skittered to a stop at the edge of the building and saw Ank preparing to strike the rear wall with his club tail.
“Is that a good—”
But it was too late, and the cinderblock wall collapsed at the impact as though it had been struck by a wrecking ball, after which Ank lifted his tail so that Williams could climb on and lowered him to the ground.
Williams peered
