All Faith saw, for the most part, was red – figuratively speaking. When the woman’s fist caught her in the jaw, causing her teeth to click together, and nearly bite through her tongue, one of Faith’s hands left her neck and snagged her chin. Her killer instinct kicked in and she jerked the chin sharply to the left while the right hand tightened even more around the neck. She heard a crack that sounded eerily familiar, and the fists quit punching her. Letting go, her gaze focused on the source of the other voice. It looked like a cross between a dog and a toaster, and had something hanging out of its mouth. With a grunt of annoyance, one of her fists jerked out and punched it in its strange metal head, sending it flying into a tree a short distance away.
Slowly, Faith stood, no longer seeing the body on the ground, and after a moment, she started to run again, trying once more to find a way of there.