The monofilament-edged razor snaps out from my forearm, and I slash at the onrushing thing in a blur of movement. The tip of the blade rips across its face, parting flesh and showing white bone. The ghoul shrieks and falls to one side, clutching its torn face. Another just as quickly comes at me and I slash at it, but not quite fast enough. The ghoul’s filthy claws rake across my side, leaving a trail of pain behind them. The light armor in my vest protects me from the worst of it, but the force of the blow puts me off balance. That’s when Crawley decides to make his move.