Bert relaxed visibly, though not entirely. "Thank fuck," he muttered, and raked a hand back through his hair. "And thankee, too, sai. I'm glad someone was around for them." No sarcasm, no wit. For the moment, his relief outweighed his incorrigible humour.

He looked up after a little while, and started limping towards the door. "They've stopped shooting," he observed, and paused for a moment with his hand on the door, counting off under his breath before he opened it.

Roland was on the doorstep, his hand outstretched for the handle. Perfect timing, Bert thought, a little smugly, and stepped aside. "Any of them left, Ro'?"

"Some of them turned tail." Roland looked up, pushing his hat back off his face. Then he saw the others in the hut, and for a moment, he swayed, the blood draining from his face, looking as though he might faint. "Fuck me. You're alive."