He let Kevin pull him, kicking to his feet only to get them both on the ground.

These walls wouldn't stop bullets, not for long. He returned the pull to safety by dragging Kevin in front of a heavy book case.

"Ztay down." It wasn't a slip - the 'zee' wouldn't carry as an 'ess' sound would, and he was keeping his voice low. He pulled a knife from his wrist sheath and another from his boot, offering the latter to the boy. His wrist knives where made to throw.