He concentrated on his work, he didn’t look up, not even for a minute. Mortar the bottom and end of the brick, place the brick, trowel away the excess mortar, repeat.
Above him, all around him, was yelling and gunfire. The noise had started out sporadic, but was almost continuous now. Still, he didn’t look up. When it was time to bug out — if it came to that — Red’s hand would fall onto his shoulder and he would turn and run. He wouldn’t look back: there wouldn’t be a point. There would be no coming back to finish this wall.
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