"Hey ugly!" a voice screamed from across the Common. Swan paused, almost as if he was trying to comprehend the stupidity of whoever dared challenge him. He turned towards the voice, just in time to catch a glimpse of a small missile hurtling towards him. The rock punctured his left eye, causing more pain than Swan had ever had to tolerate in his long, violent life. He roared in pain, falling to his knees in a terrific crash that rattled Curie's teeth. Lily thought she could vaguely make out a figure in a red coat, pelting towards them.
"What the hell are you doing in the Boston Common?" Piper yelled, grabbing Curie by the collar. "Stop trying to help this raider you idiot! Run for it!"
Curie's astonishment rendered her momentarily speechless. Piper groaned in frustration.
"Listen, stupid. I'm here trying to save your life. So, can you please listen to me and get out of here?" Piper yelled again, struggling to be heard over Swan's screams of pain. Curie nodded, then turned to pick up Lily.
"I said leave her, she's dead weight." Piper said harshly, her eyes focused on Swan. The lumbering giant was rolling on the ground, his meaty hands soaked in red blood as they cupped his wounded face.
"She's my patient and she's coming with me." Curie replied firmly, grabbing Lily under the armpit. Piper rolled her eyes, but grabbed the barely conscious raider's other arm, heaving her to her feet.
"If we die, remind me to strangle you both in hell." Piper said drily, dragging the raider by the arm towards the Combat Zone.
By the time Swan had recovered from the blow, the trio had almost made it to the safety. Almost, but not quite. Swan's roar of anger was enough to halt both women in place. Curie lost her grip on Lily, who tumbled to the ground, mumbling incoherently. Piper glanced at Curie, looking for confirmation in her eyes. There was only one way out of this for them, and it didn't involve bringing the raider along. But Piper only saw steely determination in Curie's cool gray eyes. Reluctantly, Piper grabbed Lily's arm again, nearly yanking it out of the socket as she heaved with all her might. Just a few more meters and they would be safe; the narrow alley would prevent Swan from following them.
Swan leaned forward, his hulking mass rippling with tensed muscle as he prepared to charge after his prey. His one good eye could still easily see the two women dragging the third away. Despite the blood splattered across his face, the red trench coat was unmistakable. Hunger had motivated him to attack, but it was red-hot fury that powered his legs now. His prey was slow, pitifully slow. Swan roared another challenge at his attackers before taking two quick bounding steps toward them.
Before he could make a third, a bright-red laser bolt flashed inches away from his one working eye. Temporarily blinded, he blinked in confusion as more bolts flew past his face. But to the terror of Boston Common, the lasers were mere annoyances that were getting in between him and his revenge. He spotted the trenchcoat again; the bright-red clothing was unmistakable against the dull concrete cityscape.