The loose boot came the rest of the way off in the dead man's hand. Felicity got her foot free of his teeth and her knee caught under Voss's belly as he twisted to bite. She would have landed face-first in the grass if Sarge hadn't got his arm around her middle. He sat her down behind him with one stockinged foot on his boot, hard enough for him to feel the pressure and turn to see she could stand.
A few weeks ago, being picked up like that would have made her blush all the way to her ears. She still noticed how good his arm felt around her. She could enjoy those two seconds of contact another time, provided they all lived long enough for her to get a quiet minute to herself. "There's one flat behind the stump to your right," she told him. "I know because the bastard has my shoe."
