Neal doesn’t move as fast as Malcolm, and not because he still feels like his head is full of glue. He hates the thought of Rebecca, Rachel, either, both, being left alone with Martin. He doesn’t want to abandon them, even now.

“Oh come on, Neal. No faith in me at all?” Rachel is still smirking at Neal when Rebecca pulls a delicate .22 out of some inner pocket and shoots Martin in the head, twice. Then pushes her glasses up her nose.