The siren went on, idiotically, howling above the crowd. The monsters had all almost as one turned to look at the space where the bar had been, agape. Dogs were beginning to bark somewhere in the night. Someone said the word 'raid,' and it was soon picked up, people repeating it as though realizing very slowly that's what was happening.

While everyone continued to look at the bar's empty foundations, Hawk had sat bolt upright, staring the opposite direction out into the night, towards the road. In a moment he was on his feet again, arms wrapped around his sore chest, having seen on the crest of the hill a small and faint red light.

He bumped the buffalo man with his wings as he sprinted past, but did not look back, even as a loud pow and a sudden burst of red light told him that the buffalo man had been hit. In three steps he was in the air, a distance above the ground now, and had swung around on the wing to look.

The moonlight was bright, but even so what he saw below was dark and indistinct but for the livid arcs of red light firing down from the main road onto the now scattering cluster of monsters below. He made out small shapes, a ring of red light around the prone figure of the buffalo man, a range of human figures upon the main road advancing down the slope--a glimpse of things running that must have been dogs--more monsters, peeking out from behind parked cars to see what was happening--the glowing mist, still streaming off the bare foundations of the bar. It was difficult to see how many people were coming from the road, even from the air.

He held his ribs as he tilted on the wing to bank back downwards, towards the ground.