Harry Danes sat silently, his legs outsretched, his back against the wall, his head bowed.
Then he raised his head and looked around him.
At the bodies crumpled on the ground: DeStiy, Tisha Lopez. Both unmoving, barely breathing.
At Maya Reimnitz, paralysed by fear, kneeling next to that silent woman who rocked back and forth, silently sobbing.
At Ryland, trying to stand up.
At Rick, on his knees, his hands holding something unseen in front of him.
He couldn't think. He had to think. Cold. Froze. His brain.
The pain. Froze. His body.
Life sucked out of.