Smoke curls from Ferguson's six; red blooms from the banker's shoulder, face contorted, body falling back in an unnatural position. The other hostages scream, and Ferguson starts to laugh. For a moment, she's stunned.
(Sam slumps against her, blood warm, the sheriff crumples in his seat, Doc hits the floor, stops breathing, wet fireworks, a florid explosion.)
The moment passes, and quicker than anyone can react she's swinging her six, barrel warm in her hand. It connects with Ferguson's jaw with a wet thud. Gathering her skirts, she steps over him once he's on his knees.
"I think what y'meant t'say instead'a ‘ma'am’ was ‘boss’."
He groans as if her breath in his face pains him, hand clamped against his jaw. She's past him without a second glance, coming to her knees beside the wounded.
no subject
(Sam slumps against her, blood warm,
the sheriff crumples in his seat,
Doc hits the floor, stops breathing,
wet fireworks, a florid explosion.)
The moment passes, and quicker than anyone can react she's swinging her six, barrel warm in her hand. It connects with Ferguson's jaw with a wet thud. Gathering her skirts, she steps over him once he's on his knees.
"I think what y'meant t'say instead'a ‘ma'am’ was ‘boss’."
He groans as if her breath in his face pains him, hand clamped against his jaw. She's past him without a second glance, coming to her knees beside the wounded.