Chapter 37

Eliza shot, the force of the kickback making her stumble back until she fell on her behind. Looking up, she saw Ben staggering forward, his right arm hanging uselessly at his side, the bullet having torn apart his shoulder. But there was nothing wrong with his left hand. Eliza lifted her gun again, struggling to get a good aim on his moving body. He reached across his chest, his fingers fumbling for the gun holster on his right side.

Eliza shouted at him to stop, but he moved closer and closer, finally getting a grip on the gun handle. She shot again, blindly, her arms sagging from the effort. He didn’t stop moving. Pointing the gun at her head, he sneered, blood dripping down his right arm in a steady current, adding red to the bloody bandage around his wrist, and staining the sandy ground at his feet.

“Should have learned to aim better,” he said.

Gathering what remained of her strength, she leveled her gun again. “Fuck you.”