As it sinks in, I become aware of the chaos raining down on us from allsides. I can hear the wail of sirens, the high-pitched screams of fear, theshattering of glass, the endless report of gunfire. I cup my hands over myears and fall back on a soothing mechanism that I developed around thetime Dad left us and Mom started going loopy.
“One.” Deep breath. “Two.” Deep breath. “Three.” Deep breath. “Four.”Deep breath. “Five.”
More gunshots. Louder. Closer. I can hear them even over the sound of myterrified heart throbbing in my ears and my cupped hands. I feel like mypulse is in my throat.
Shadows converge around me. More huge men. I hear them murmuring,talking over each other in harsh, staccato bursts.
I’m not sure wh
