Once I believe nobody is about, I walk over to Tyner, who I find has a hole in his forehead. His eyes are wide open, like he’s still surprised I got him.
I take his gun, leave the rest, then look around a bit more. If the others were here, they’re gone now.
“All’s clear,” I tell Abel, who’s now laid out in bed. “How you doing?”
“Hurts.”
“Could have hurt worse.”
“Noted. Is Tyner dead?”
“Yep. Bullet to the forehead.”
“You’re a good shot.”
“Pa taught me not to waste bullets on missing the target. I’m no fast draw, but I hit what I aim for.”
“Lucky for me.”
We’re both still in drawers and remain that way. I keep the door open to let in fresh air. I get a fire going and make coffee, but by the time I get it poured, Abel is asleep and I’m left to consider that I’ve now killed a man.