[Sunday September 15, 2075; Under the Mechanical's Compound, Puyallup, Seattle]
Al backpedaled in what, as best as he could tell in the dark and confusion, was the only direction without any other ghouls in it. But the voodoo freak, monkeying along the ceiling hanging from the pipes that fed the tanks, stayed right on him. Every time he tried to take a shot it batted his barrel aside, and still somehow found a free hand to take a vicious swipe at him. When Al tried to back up faster, he nearly lost his footing on the muck-covered floor.
Beside him, black coat almost invisible in the gloom, Spike whined in frustration at being unable to reach their foe.
Frantically ducking another blow, Al saw a flash of familiar white out of the corner of his eye. It was another dog, huge as Spike, but this one fluffy and white. The Akita barked, then turned and ran around behind a big tank, one of the only ones still intact after the albino's grenade blast. Without even thinking, Al turned and followed, risking a rear attack in favor of speed.
It worked, he left the mounted ghoul behind, but when he got to the other side of the vat the big Akita was gone. He turned to see the undead creature almost upon him, having gone the short way across and over the huge tank. And in that moment, Al knew why he'd been led here - he raised his weapon and fired, just as the thing was preparing to launch itself at him in a terrible leap. But his narrrow-choked stream of buckshot zipped past the thing's ear and straight into the rusting supporting strut bearing the abomination's weight, and it plunged headlong into the brackish surface of the water, disappearing.
For the moment.
"Snow - pop one in that there tank!"