A fat man ran ahead. He famously threw his legs, pulling them out of the deep grass, pressing the machine gun to his chest. Thin noticeably lagged behind, limping on his right leg. The fat man ran to the porch, tried to raise the bolt. Unable to do this, he turned around, threw up a machine gun and opened fire on a thin creature running into it. He abruptly went to the side, and the bullets smeared on the dead man, but he, without losing speed at all, leaving the line of fire at the last moment, was able to reach the thin back in a jump, pulling him by the backpack. The man stumbled and, taking a couple of big steps, leaning to the left, trying to keep his balance with his outstretched arms, flopped into the grass, rolling across it on his chest. Quickly turning over on his side, he threw off his backpack, and when the creature rushed again, he managed to slip his luggage between himself and him. The mutant crashed into a thin man, knocking him into the grass. The fingers of the creature smeared, tearing apart the backpack. One, two and only rags remained from strong camouflage fabric. Things scattered from the backpack throughout the clearing.