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The bullet whizzed past D.J. Halloran's cheek, so close a wisp of air touched her skin like an angel's kiss. She threw herself onto the ground, cursing as the cement met her hipbones with a bone-jarring crack. |
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"Damn, kids," she muttered. "Where do they get the guns?" |
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Tentatively she peeked around the end of the squad car. Another well-aimed shot rewarded her curiosity. She jerked back and sat up, careful to keep all body parts out of view. A quick glance around the area reinforced her isolation. Just her, the gun-toting kid, who must be on something to shoot at a cop, and a neighborhood full of people cowering inside their homes. Unless she could get to the radio in the squad car, or one of the citizens |
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