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"Get out?" The words leapt from her mouth in incredulous disbelief.

And then, Mel leapt too, forwards, pushing off the ground with all the energy that she had into a full out sprint.

Maybe she'd been real shocked when Alvaro had offed Irene - just like that, in one instant, because she'd figured this was low pressure, no sweat, no problem, no need to back anyone up, the three of them would just weasel outta this one 'cause they hadn't seen anyone in days and like hell they'd end up seeing someone die in front of them right away, they couldn't possibly be that lucky - so maybe she hadn't had the presence of mind to move when Serena had made a suicide run of it. Irene had pointed her gun at Alvaro just moments before. Now Serena was the one pointing it at him. For a moment she couldn't see any way this ended differently.

She moved, and everything narrowed down to nothing but motion and purpose.

Get out? Five feet, five inches and one hundred twenty pounds said no - stay down, you fucker.

There were no red cards here. The world was a big angry blur; she aimed for Alvaro, aimed to drop her weight on him and press down, hard.
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