How quickly everything came together at the last minute. Really..
The gun shots triggered more than an annoying ringing in her ears: cue the mass exodus of coffee drinkers and hillbillies all rushing for the double doors at once. George's eyes shifted to the clock above the diner counter. 9:39.
Jenna was still alive.
Thankfully no one in their right mind would be rushing toward the sound of gunfire, and everyone was in such a rush to get out that a decidedly much slower eighteenish looking woman in the back wasn't going to be on the front of anyone's mind either. Hopefully.
After everyone had filed and screamed and pushed their way to 'safety', George made her way around the counter and into the kitchen. Not exactly cautious about being shot. Yeah, it'd sting. And ruin her clothes, but y'can't kill what's already dead.
There on the floor, she saw Jenna. The sight turned her eyes away before she could realize it'd disturbed her. George hadn't been lying when she said the woman reminded her of her mother. Now that's all she could picture, laying there with a weakening pulse of blood spewing from what had used to be the waitress's neck.
She looked at her watch again. 9:45
With the next round of the second hand, at exactly the moment when poor Jenna Thompson was relieved from the horrible mess that was her body: George herself would have been in the same 'realm' as she.
If anyone had seen the girl head behind the counter: they wouldn't see her there anymore. Just a dead woman on the floor... and a lot of blood.