>>5626248Caught in the blast of his ally's rocket fire, a glorious explosion leads to annihilation. The candle of life flares brightly, then extinguishes in a puff of smoke. Horace dies doing what he loves: crushing a man's skull with a baseball bat.
Rico bravely charges into the fray to save his crewmate, but finds himself a step too slow. Blown off course in midair by the concussive blast of the rocket, he splashes into the water with naught to show for his efforts but regrets and a singed and burning shirt.
Meanwhile to the south, Napps reverently picks up the chainsaw of his deceased foe. This is the very weapon that left the bloody gash across his chest, a scar that will never quite heal. Even deactivated, the power tool feels alive in Napps' hands. He's both awed and afraid, like he's locked in a cage with a prowling lioness. Light pull trigger, reinforced and scraped-down frame, removed grip safety, streamlined oil reservoir, customized pull handle. This thing isn't a construction tool. It's not even a weapon. It's an extension of a lunatic killer's fury and will. Now the chainsaw finds itself bereft. It needs a new master. It pledges fealty.
