“Stop!”
I’m so close. If I can just get to the barn. If I can—
There’s hoofbeats now, too. Falling like a drum beat, growing louder and louder and louder until—
A dark streak flies by me at full speed. A demon on a black horse, neither of his hands on the reins because they’re too busy firing behind him. I don’t stop to look this time either, not just because I’m afraid to die but also because I’m afraid to know how many names I’ll have to put on my ledger if I live.
Close on Cypress’s heels, three men tear after him on horseback, straight for Soldana’s border, and I wonder how far he’ll get before they catch him. If we really will get the chance to find each other again like I said.
My lungs are burning by the time I reach the stable, a metallic taste in my mouth, another bullet connecting with one of the barn slats as I race inside and tuck myself behind the open door. My chest rapidly rises and falls as I try to catch my breath, my eyes doing a quick count of the now eight men outside. “Fuck, where is the fucking law—”
“Told ya you should have brought your horse.”
My head jerks up at the small voice intruding from thedirection of the hayloft, and I see the stable boy peering back down at me.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Get out of here,” I snap at him. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“Not if you get out of here first,” he argues, listening to the sounds of a few more shots hitting the stable. “They seem awful mad. What’d you do?”
“I got involved,” I mutter back, glancing out the door and stepping forward just slightly to let the men out there see me and my pistol. Fortunately, rather than receiving a bullet, I’m rewarded by the sight of them scampering back a bit.
“Hey,” I shout toward the boy. “Sid, I need you to—”
“Simon,” he replies, rolling his eyes at me.
“Right, Simon, you know how to tack a horse fast?”
“Sure do,” he says. “For the right price.”
“Little extortionist,” I grumble. “How about this? You tack up the mustang, and I’ll give you someveryquick pointers on how to fight.”
“I don’t know…” he says, still lolling about in the hayloft while a few more shots go off. “You don’t seem to be doing too great with that right now.”
I glare at him, then show myself once more to the men outside to a similar effect as before. Doubt it’ll last much longer, though. Not without a casualty. My hand starts to shake.
“You can have whatever is left in my wallet,” I offer instead, starting to get desperate. “How about that?”
“Deal,” he replies, and I think maybe it’s worth it when I hear him start running away up there, dropping down in the aisle a safe distance back near the mustang’s stall.
“Tell me when you’re ready,” I shout his way, and sure enough, I do have to resort to firing a shot in the air a few moments later when the men outside start getting close enough for adrenaline and instinct to kick in.
“You want the saddlebags, too?” asks Simon, when the sound of the shot fades. “Or you leavin’ em here?”
I stare at him briefly before returning my attention outside. “Why would I leave—”
“I’m only askin’.” I fire another shot in the air. “But I suppose you aren’t coming back anytime soon.”
“Suppose not,” I reply, having no choice but to aim a shot at the dirt in front of Maddock when he doesn’t retreat as far as I would have liked after the last round. “Not willingly.”
“All right,” the boy shouts. “Ready!”
I nod, shoot once more to scare, then I turn and run for the stall, thinking to take the mustang out the back until I realize that will likely bring them into the barn and right past the boy. Instead, I whistle for the mustang right as I reach the knot still keeping his door closed, and I have to admit, it does come loose fast in a pinch.
“Stay out of trouble,” I tell the boy, unintentionally brushing against the watch in my pocket before grabbing my entire pocketbook and throwing it his way. The mustang bursts through the opening stall door a moment later, as if he knows he’s charging into battle, kicking into full speed down the aisle past several other startled horses as soon as I grab his mane, swing myself up, and land on his back.
For the first time in a long time as we thunder toward the front doors, I remember what it feels like…that suspended weightless moment, where you’re still able to experience the frantic hope of evading an unavoidable fate. Only this time...
“Aiden.” A shout from my left immediately once we’re out under the night sky draws me toward a black horse and its rider racing to my side, a rifle now in his hands as we turn and head straight for the dark expanse laid out before us without slowing. Without a single shot managing to eclipse our escape.