“Get off! Get off me, ‘X sobbed, sounding like a little kid.
Y kicked at the sickos, slashing with his knife. It was no good, though— there were just too many of them — and he himself toppled over, landing on his friend and smothering him.
‘It’s all right X, ‘he said. ‘I’m with you. It’s all right. You’re not alone. ‘He felt for X’s hand held it tight, as more gym bunnies blocked out the light, swamping them.”
The steady flow of brain-exploding new things was hammering at her. When she was little, a wave had knocked her over at the seaside, and every time she’d tried to get up the next wave had knocked her down again. This was worse. Her mum had come and picked her up back then. Who was going to help this time?