He paid for his coffee, picked up his change, then stood up and looked for the light switch. There were four long fluorescent tubes above him, no chance to break them all. He saw the light switch against the back wall, then took a deep breath.
He walked up quickly behind the alien.
The little man did not move.
"You," Web said.
The alien face swung toward him.
"Get up," Web said.
The dry face whitened, but the expression did not change and the old man did not say anything.
"I asked you to get up," Web said gently. His right hand hung low, Web clamped down on the alien's frail shoulder and jerked him to his feet. When the alien opened his mouth, Web hit him low. The man doubled. Web picked him up and heaved him the full length of the store, in the direction of the light switch. He leaped after the hurtling body, threw the switch.
In the sudden blessed blackness he found the alien's head on the floor, crashed it down twice with a great, nerveless strength. Frantically, savagely, while the fat lady screamed and the few other people bellowed toward the door, he searched the alien's pockets. There was nothing resembling a gun. What he found he jammed quickly into his own pocket, then whirled and waited, crouching.
Outside were shouts, and a crowd was forming. When there were enough people outside he stood up and ran for the door.