“Get down!” Julian yelled, hitting the cold marble on his hands and knees. “Do not raise your head above forty inches!”
Mac grabbed Perry Miller by the collar of his suit and hauled him flat against the floor. “Down, kid! Eat the tile!”
“What is happening?” Perry screamed, trembling violently against the black marble. “What did they drop on us?”
Julian slid his hands forward, keeping his chin pressed within six inches of the stone.
Behind him, Elena and Lin Mei dropped to their elbows on either side of Mobile Register Annex #04-B. Dr. Corvo knelt beside the rear casters, hooking his cane through the cart’s lower strut to keep it from rolling.
FLUTTER.
Twenty feet ahead, the first ribbon of crimson ticker-tape drifted down from the eighty-seventh-floor gallery.
The paper was two inches wide, stamped in fresh, dripping linotype toner, trailing a faint haze of red dust through the air.
