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You join the rush of fleeing customers, positioning yourself behind behind a tall, wide man. As the muffled gunfire is coming from behind you, this does not protect you in the slightest, and merely slows you down, as the large man is not very quick on his feet, although plenty of large men are, I hasten to add.
A bullet strikes the large man in the back of the head, and he falls forward, smashing through the glass-paned door of the shop. You jump over his prone carcass and find yourself outside.
You are at a crossroads. It is mid-morning, and the sky is overcast. There are several people on the street here, running around in panic, weeping confusedly or, in the case of some teenagers in hooded tops, pointing at the café and the terrified or dead bystanders, and laughing, while filming the whole thing on their mobile phones.
Munt Lane runs to the South, curving South-East.
To the North, Munt Lane slopes down towards the seafront.
To the West is a dirt road surrounded on either side by run-down warehouses, which comes to an end after a few hundred metres, blocked by a metal gate.
To the East is a pleasant cobbled street, signed Acacia Avenue.
A quick audit of the buildings on each corner:
South-East: a music shop, open.
South-West: a garage, open.
North-West: an office building, open.
North-East: a coffee and cake shop where you could also buy booze, closed due to an ongoing shooting incident. |
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