“I don’t have an uncle!” I shouted, pitching my tone as an accusation rather than a statement even as I continued struggling.
My words struck him more solidly than my attempted blow, and he frowned, working through the implication. Then his eyes hardened and he dove forward, physically hauling me with him to the ground beside a low wall.
“What are you—” I started to cry, but he silenced me with a sharp gesture as he released my arm. And then from somewhere nearby I heard a soft hiss, like a whisper of air rushing to fill a void.
“Stay down!” he added, pushing me forward behind the low wall. “Gloria,” he whispered. “We’re taking fire.” He paused for a moment and I realized he was carrying a communications package, but he must not have liked the answer he received because he immediately s
