23.
I land on my right side just as a
donkey is trotting past, pulling a wood cart behind it.
I roll my body under the cart and,
emerging out the opposite side, get back up onto my feet at the very same
moment Pony-Tail starts shooting at me from out of the shattered storefront.
People scream, scatter about in every direction. It’s the kind of confusion and
cover I need as I make an all-out sprint for the center of the market.
I don’t get far before I make out
another shot and sense a round shooting past my right ear. I duck into a shop
that sells rugs, take a quick glance over my shoulder.
Pony-Tail is coming at me down the
center of the narrow road, the Arabs moving out of his way, like he owns the
place. Thumbing the clip release, I allow the metal clip to drop to the store
