CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Zero caught the concrete with both elbows and a shoulder. He rolled twice, end over end, as rubble rained down on him.
Slowly he managed to roll himself over. Everything hurt. One by one he wiggled each limb to make sure that nothing was broken, beyond the nine bones that had been previously. He groaned as he pulled himself to a seated position on the pedestrian walkway. His vision swirled; he was woozy, disoriented.
White smoke drifted in his periphery. He heard sounds, but they seemed distant. People shouting in both pain and fear. Horns blaring. A deep, resonant creaking that he felt in his bowel.
Pierson. Zero climbed to his feet and staggered forward into the smoky haze. His foot caught on something and he stumbled, nearly falling again. It was a Secret Service
