“It’s Claude.”
“Where?” She craned her neck.
“There, by the trees.” They locked eyes with the man, but no one called out: they all knew better.
“Jesus, they’re gonna smell him.”
“Not if he goes soon; I think he’s waiting for an opening.”
“He’s not gonna get one, there’s just too many of… oop, there he goes.”
Claude sprinted into the midst of the horde, taking them by surprise, weaving between lurching bodies and outstretched hands. Trying to change directions on the wet grass led to disaster, however, and he went down. He was quickly surrounded.
“Well that’s that...”
“Yeah.”
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