"Fuck," Siobhàn muttered, checking her shotgun shells behind a crumbled wall. "Where is that fat ass?"
For a large man such as Hank, he sure is fast. Siobhàn had to keep up with him, moving from cover to cover just to keep up. But the bastard seemed to vanish into thin air every time she thought she had him cornered. The crumbled buildings didn't help her pinpoint Hank's location either. Not even a sound of stone was dropped. It was as if the shadows themselves were his accomplices, drawing her into a maddening game of hide-and-seek.
The guy was probably around three or four hundred pounds but he moved like a freaking cheetah, and that pissed Siobhàn off more than anything. She wasn't used to being the one hunted, especially not by someone who looked like he should be out of breath just climbing a staircase.
