Conner looked panicked and waved his gun at the sky while Xavi stood motionless, feet apart, hips pushed back as if he were riding a horse. He held what looked like a sawed-off shotgun at groin height, its stubby barrel jutting like a metal phallus, the tip tracking back and forth. Alice opened her mouth to call to them when another missile streaked through the sky to take Conner high on his left shoulder. He spun to the deck, gun clattering away, and lay silent.