His movements seemed pre-ordained. His body did not wait for instruction, did not wait for the seconds of thought that would serve him an early death. It merely did. A girl with shaved black hair and exceptionally long arms pounced on him from behind. She heard the snap before she felt it. She screamed and wept on the floor, holding her broken arm with nobody paying any attention to her. His elbow took out the boy he had kicked, and he disarmed the stick from the fourth girl, using it to chop at her neck. She backed off, choking, as black tooth was upon him. He dropped the stick and grabbed
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