Well, that’s one fascist scumsucker gone, thought Rani. If I knew who to pray to, I’d beg to take out another dozen before I die. She aimed at the closest gangboy, a drooling one-eyed skinhead with a ribbed scar running from forehead to chin. Before she could squeeze the trigger, something heavy hit her in the back and sent her shot flying wide. Running now, the gangers were still coming at her.