NARRATOR<br/><br/>It was chaos. Complete and utter chaos. When the attackers unleashed their pack of dogs the defenders were surprised, yes, but they did have all their eyes focused on that doorway and as the pack of dogs rushed snarling through it they were met by a hail of bullets and hurled Molotov cocktail bombs.<br/><br/>There was a ferocious blast of heat and flame, enough to singe the hair of the men and women holding the barricade if they were foolish enough to be looking over it. Instantly several of the dogs screamed and whined loudly as they were coated in blazing melted rubber. Armoured plates could stop bullets, but not fire. Several collapsed and died at once and two more, driven to madness by the pain threw themselves at the barricade, leaping over only to die beyond it, twitching and stinking terribly. Five of the dogs survived, two of them going for Herb Swann and three more darting towards other defenders. One took a length of steel pole in its face and fell down whimpering and twitching, injured but not dead while two others leapt for the throats of their targets.<br/><br/>Above on the bridge walk over the atrium the deputies up there flinched back, crouching and crawling away as the intense heat below them made their defensive position unbearable. It was one of these that Marshal shot as, eyes watering, he struggled to see through the smoke and heat.<br/><br/>The two men stationed in cover beside the door turned on the Sheriff's signal, one of them stepped out and blasted two attackers in the chest but was in turn shot by several bullets to the body, one of which tragically came from someone behind him on the barricade. The other man, quite inexperienced and unused to such terrors simply ran.<br/><br/>Several attackers burst into the atrium, jumping right through the burning wall of rubber and roasted dogs and began firing at anything that moved. The noise was intense and the rapid<em>PACK-PACK-PACK! … PACK-PACK-PACK!</em>sound could only mean semi-automatic weapons. Pandemonium, ensued with the defenders falling back from their barricade trying with pistols to stem the tide.<br/><br/>It was hopeless. Men and women on both sides fell everywhere but the attackers had more and with better combat skills, armour and guns. Some attackers fanned out to the sides and threw grapple irons up over the railings to the upper walkways. Light rope and wooden ladders uncoiled and they began climbing. Though the first one was shot down, others took her place.<br/><br/>Inside the Atrium Café Norbert the barbot observed the chaos outside as his plate glass window was blown in.<br/><br/>"Now that is enough!" he chided the crowd outside in his English butler's accent, "If you wish to order food, please form a queue!" Two men rushed in and shot him, the bullets thunking into his casing and making him shudder and spin round.<br/><br/>"Alright. That's<em>it</em>. You're barred!" he said to the first man, "And you're barred too. I've never seen such impatient customers!" More bullets hit him and whizzed by, shattering coffee mugs behind his head. That was sufficient to alert the robot's defence circuitry to the fact that these were not customers upset at an undercooked weiner, but something a lot more serious.<br/><br/>"I said, you're barred," the robot confirmed flatly, lowering his flame attachment, internally adjusting it from its usual low setting for grilling burgers and drying wet glasses to a more useful setting. A jet of lighted flame fuel shot out for fifteen feet across the room and consumed the two men in the doorway. They screamed and writhed and fell to the floor. The doorframe caught fire.<br/><br/>"Remember the Alamo and to Hell with Mexico!" Norbert shouted, apparently having had his vocal response codes written by a fan of old movies.<br/><br/>For now the Atrium Café was holding out, however elsewhere every Vault defender who could still move was falling back, some towards the Level 2 staircase, some towards the Level 3 stairs and others down the corridor towards the dorms alongside whose doorways more barricades had been set up. The large space of the Atrium itself was filling with acrid smoke and sometimes friends hit or shot each other in the chaos.<br/><br/>Sam Clarke gathered up the ammo clips and made it to the Level 2 stairs though he was not alone in deciding it was better to fight another day. Several vault personnel were ahead of him diving down the steps to the lower level. Sherriff Kane was almost bodily pushed aside; despite shouting orders and brandishing his pistol no-one was listening.<br/><br/>Herb Swann swung his heavy hammer and was gratified to see it connect solidly with the side of the leaping dogs head. The head distorted into a strange elongated and flatter shape as the skull was crushed. Blood gushed from the leaping creature's nose and mouth and its eyes bulged and popped out. The airborne body collided with Herb's left shoulder and though the jaws locked on, by the time the bite reflex was ready to kick in the creature was dead. The second dog was deflected from its attack by the falling body of its kennel-mate and made to leap around or over the obstruction. Herb would need to fight on or run and he had only split seconds to decide.<br/><br/>It was decision time for everybody, Fred Jupiter, Kenya Hamilton and Morgan Townsend among them. Stay to fight and quite possibly die, or run. And if so, where to?