by Jon Gerrard
* * *
In the aisle on the far side of the room, the guards there had been forced to subdue yet another of their men who had gone berserk. This latest one had taken down four members of their team before he had been subdued. Several others had been incapacitated by being struck in the head by flying objects. Altogether, they had been reduced to less than half of their original force.
The ones who were left formed themselves into a tight group, creating a defensive circle. By facing outward one of them was always able to see when some object was launched at them from one of the shelves. And by staying shoulder-to-shoulder with their teammates they were also better prepared to react if one of them succumbed to the mysterious force that seemed to be driving some of them mad. Once they had settled into this arrangement the attacks against them stopped. As long as they held this position it seemed that they were secure. But it also meant they were effectively immobilized.