He saw one grey man spin like a crazy dancer And another fall at his heels⁠—but the hill kept growing them. Something made him look toward his left. A yellow-fanged face Was aiming a pistol over a chunk of rock. He fired and the face went down like a broken pipe While something hit him sharply and took his breath “Get back, you suckers,” he croaked. “Get back there, you suckers!” He wouldn’t have time to load now⁠—they were too near. He was up and screaming. He swung his gun like a club Through a twilight full of bright stabbings, and felt it crash On a thing that broke. He had no breath any more. He had no thoughts. Then the blunt fist hit him again.

He was down in the grass and the black sheep of night ran over him⁠ ⁠…