Roger stared at the man, uncomprehending.
“Goddamn it—do it!” the biker shouted. It was the voice of a wild-man; saw-edged and uncontained, incapable of bluffing. Raw.
“Easy, Omar ...” urged one of the gunman"s peers.
“Roger, honey,” Savanna stammered helplessly. “Please God do what he says.”
So much for her new convictions. Dinosaurs were one thing. A crazy, drunken man with a gun was something else entirely.
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
