typeracer

Arn shakes his head, the lines around his mouth deepening. Soon's they see you, they'd kill the men and take the women. Get in the cellar. I'll handle this. His weathered hand squeezes mine. It's the most affection he's shown me in months. I savor the roughness of his palm. Then quick as it came, he drops my hands and goes back to slipping bullets into his rifle, his eyes marking the approach of our enemies.