Margaret's eyes widen as the mannequin falls to the ground, still moving and writhing. Her eyes flit up to the stranger and the leg she's wielding. She whacks away another mannequin with the table, making it stumble and fall backwards onto the floor.

"No," she hisses. "But I'm trying to make it secure. Once they're out, we can fortify this entrance with the furniture and wait for everything to tide over!"

She puts down the table for a moment, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"I can't do it alone--there's still mannequins in here to clear out, and they just don't seem to stay down."