Dean kept his hand clamped over Lia’s mouth as two guerrillas ran up the path in front of the houses and turned toward the back, going in the direction they thought she had taken. They shouted back and forth. Someone on the other side of the buildings apparently thought he saw something and began firing.
“You all right?” asked Dean, letting her go.
“I’m fine.”
“Where are your shoes?”
“I left them in the shower.”
“Get on my back,” he told her. “I’ll carry you.”
“No.”
“You are the most stubborn human being in the world.”
“My feet are fine,” insisted Lia.
“Then come on, for cryin’ out loud. Before they figure out which way you went.”