panic, each prevented the other from getting through the doors on either side.
The Minotaur trotted towards them, head down, and charged bull fashion. It speared a balding man through the chest of his tie-dyed T-shirt. The man whimpered and fell like a deflated balloon. Blood gushed. His cry ended in a sort of gurgle.
The Minotaur charged the group again.
It all seemed to take place in slow motion and yet I knew it was very fast, taking no more than a few breaths. There was nothing I could do, no time to intervene.
My stomach churned. I didn't want to think, to smell, to see, or to hear. But neither could I close my eyes. If I were to die I wanted to know it was going to happen. I wanted to know it was all over, even if only for a few seconds.
Sweat running down my back, I concentrated on standing still, on breathing quietly.
Pol, two steps to the right and in front of me, looked like a statue, only the slight rise of his broad chest betraying life.
The Minotaur lowered its head again. A sharp cry sounded and a dark red stain bloomed on Nary's yellow dress.
Pol swallowed audibly and shifted his weight to the foot closer to his girlfriend.
The Minotaur lifted her, threw her. She landed in a heap close to us. Drops of her blood sprinkled my ankles.
I closed my eyes, biting my lips together as acid bile rose from my stomach.
Pol made a low, keening sound and the Minotaur turned an inquiring head. Pol bit his lips and, though his face glimmered white with shock and his eyes were wide and expressionless, he made no more sound.
I concentrated on remaining still, on not moving to either help or run away. I could do nothing, except, if I were lucky, save my own life.
I