Sitting, with my knees tucked to my chest, my arms around them, my head tucked between my elbows, afraid to move, I smelled singed clothing and hair. My ears rang, my head pounded, I must be alive. But I was afraid to move. Silence settled. I sensed it more than heard it, my ears screaming in protest to the assault. Scuffling. Irv Gittings. That thought propelled me to my feet. I’d seen his face. I know I had. His mocking smile. I cast around wildly, swiping my hair out of my face. Footfalls reverberating. Running. One set. Which way? The cement walls created a great echo chamber. I whirled one way, then the other. No one. I thought I heard a laugh, evil and taunting. Then the single footfalls were drowned out by many. People running. Growing louder, I thought. Hard to tell with the ringing. Romeo rounded the corner coming down the ramp from the outside. Forrest and the investigator with the unremarkable name and flat affect followed behind. “Shit. Lucky are you okay?” He skidded to a stop in front of me, grabbing my shoulders.
