Chapter 11

For a moment Anjelo was stunned, his mind in a whirl.

What had happened?

When he came back to his senses he looked down, and saw Lathe lying at his feet in a puddle of blood.

“Oh, God, he’s been hit!” Anjelo cried out. Weakness made his legs buckle, and he fell on Lathe. His crying was both ferocious and noisy. Salty tears fell from bloodshot eyes, his thick lashes sticking together in clumps as if he’d been swimming in the ocean.

“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God!” he muttered over and over when he couldn’t revive Lathe. Finally, he grabbed his cell phone and punched in 911. He didn’t really know what to say, but somehow began babbling out a bunch of words that made no sense to him. He only hoped whoever was on the other end would be able to understand. He explained the best he could by answering one question after the other, and finally yelled at them to hurry.

And then before he knew it, a far-off siren filled the air.