infection increases its hold over him and he can only watch as his arms drop limply to his sides and then feels himself fall face first to the tarmac. All control has now been lost. He could still feel the sensations however, but there was no pain on impact and no fear either, just a calm silence and a strange tingly warmth.

He manages to roll his head to one side where he can see Moe. The way he slices through the crowd reminds him of the Jujitsu patterns he’d seen him perform a thousand times in the dojo. It was nothing compared to this pure display of art now however. The old man looked as if he knew this was his last stand, and was going out as he dreamed, on his feet with a sword in his hand.

Almost gliding through the bodies - They had no chance