Her head rattled like a baby's toy. Self-preservation kicked in and time stopped.
The first fifteen seconds was getting to her knees without vomiting from the pain. The next sixty seconds was spent putting her gun muzzle against the Monster Truck Boys' knee joints and pulling the trigger. Eight shells were ready to do damage, two in each joint. If it didn't work, she would choose a higher target for the next pause.
She crawled away as time resumed.
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