Chapter 21“What was that?” Biggs asked, a heavy-set man with broad shoulders. “I swear I just saw kids out there.”
Standing to his left, on the other side of the sealed door, his colleague offered him a look of contempt, but hefted his rifle up nonetheless.
“You’re imagining things.”
In the bushes, something moved, and Biggs caught a glimpse of colour, black and white kimonos.
“Kids!” he shouted. “There are damn kids in the bushes!”
He took a step forward, and, across from him, Wedge fingered his rifle nervously, anxious that there were only rubber bullets loaded within, and then feeling awful that he was considering that rubber bullets would not be enough for kids breaking curfew. When did he become this way, he asked himself, scanning the bushes; was it the uniform, or had it been h
