When the thing shrieked behind her (so close behind her) Lilly's heart lodged in her throat in preparation for the inevitable. Molton iron trickled down her spine, sending a mortal shiver through her body that felt like her life flashing through her brain in one single, horrific instant. Her only instinct that remained was that stiffened, fiery resolve of protection, that set Jacob hurriedly on his feet (now awake and heading toward terrified), whirled her around to face the thing that would attack her and fend it off so her offspring could get away.
It wasn't a logical instinct, and it didn't come with any cognitive thought. That only crashed through when she noticed the Thing was lunging away.
Without even taking a breath, Lilly scooped up her squealing son and started to stumble back toward the mouth of the alley, until she saw it's limb lop off in a sick leak of black ooze. Jacob catterwalled into her shoulder, her hand gently on the back of the toddler's head to keep his eyes away from the scene hers were locked on.
Both mother and child jerked hard with the bark of the shotgun, which echoed around the cavernous and empty buildings - over-sized tombstones for the Giants of Human Society. The waker crumpled to the ground, without an arm and now without a face, in a pool of it's own foulness. It left Lilly's wide blue eyes with an unimpeded view of her impromptu savior.
She could hear the stirring of the security detail around the bend: her husband's voice among others, shouting on cue, having heard the gun-shot and realized the government official's wife and child were missing. They'd be there in moments, but for now...
Steam puffed hard from her open lips, still tingly with shock. Jacob was still crying, but it was more from the loud noise and sudden movement that woke him than anything.
"Thank you," she managed to breathe toward the dark eyed stranger, with genuine gratitude that dug bone-deep. "Jesus Christ--thank you."