Dean caught her in the curl of his arm as she backed into him and propelled her away from the door into the hall as more nasty, slicing utensils were hurled in their direction. With both hands then he threw his weight against the door to the kitchen as several of the lizards lunged toward it, slamming hard but with no effect yet.
Putting the edge of his black, steel-toed work boot to the seam of the door, Dean turned toward Shannon, his expression both concerned and frustrated. "Now is not the time to freak out, Shannon," he said because he would have recognized her immediately from how she'd just charged into the kitchen practically rolling her eyes. "I can't hold them in there forever with just my toe and if I let go, they're coming after us. If they caught the smell of you they might track you even if you run away from me. So stick close while I think of a way to get us both out of here, ok?"
The blade of a large meat cleaver shot out between the crease in the door and the wall near Dean's face and he nearly let go of his hold on the door. "Shit!" he gasped. "I need a gun. Now!"
And the planet obliged. In his hand materialized a bright orange and yellow super soaker water gun. Dean looked upward. "What the hell is this?" he demanded. "I meant a real gun!"