when Curt, gloves off and on his knees looking for my keys, grabbed the back of my coat and pulled me abruptly down. I landed with a teeth-jarring thud on an uneven surface I realized was his foot. I heard him grunt.“Someone’s shooting!” I squawked. “In a populated neighborhood!”“Idiot,” muttered Curt, pushing me off him.“What? Me?” I got very defensive. “You’re the one who yanked me over! I didn’t mean to land on you.”“Not you,” Curt said impatiently. “Him. Whoever it is.”A second shot fragmented the side window above our heads. Little pieces of glass rained down on us, stinging our faces and getting caught in our hair.“I thought windows in cars were shatterproof,” I said inanely.“Around to the other side of the car,” Curt ordered. “Hurry! We’re too exposed here!”I needed no prompting. The shadows were suddenly a haven.“And keep down,” he ordered, as if I needed to be told.I tucked my head as low on my shoulders as I could get it and duckwalked around the car past my MERRY license plate.I don’t think I’m too happy at the moment, Sam!The spot between my shoulder blades itched, and I felt like I had a bull’s-eye outlined there in fluorescent paint.
