He ducks back behind cover--a pile of the ripped up chairs from the auditorium upstairs--but the shots are wide and he waves a hand to Tom. I'm okay.

"Neil!" he yells, adding his voice to Tom's. He needs to think, needs to figure a way out of this, but he needs to hear what he can't quite see. Neil could be...

No. No, he can't. There's no way this is going to work like this. Not with guns, not at this distance. He stills his breathing, listening for a sign.