( Sorry this is so late! :( )
Amy didn't even have a chance to react. The bladed arm came so quickly that she just looked----and then, suddenly, there was blood spurting from her throat, her expression blank, and her head falling obscenely backwards, unsupported by the slashed muscle.
"Amy---? AMY!" Just as Drew stepped forward, Amy crumpled like a ragdoll to the ground. No. No, not his sister. Not his sister. She carried a gun, sure, but she wasn't a part of this. Horrified, he stumbled forward in shock... but there wasn't time for shock. Screaming, he turned his rifle around and started to swing it at the silver girl----he'd beat the life out of her, he'd crush her, he'd destroy the mutie freak who did this to his sister.
--Trouble was, there were too many things acting on him. He wasn't thinking. Remora's actions, messing with his head, causing panic and fear, and this noxious gas that was curling around his feet, creeping slowly upward, and finally was inhaled into his lungs... all things he didn't know how to fight, all things he didn't understand. He still tried to get at Cait, but he was coughing, his mind racing more than ever. The panic was overwhelming and his heart was working overtime, his hyperventilation sucking more and more of the gas into his lungs.