He slid down the wall like a broken puppet, painting the wall dark with blood. I stood there in the darkened parking lot, caught between the fight behind me and the fight waiting for me. I let my jacket fall back into place and used my body to sort of push Nathaniel between Micah and me. I needed not to be held when I was this angry.
Oh, yeah, I wasn't the only one having personal problems. The sound of gunfire and yelling and screaming was ahead. We had one of those long seconds that seem to last forever, but are really just the blink of an eye, to look at each other over his wife's head. No more losing your head, Bert, okay? I'll try, but I can't promise.
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