|He'd gone berserk at
the camp, killing everything that moved, waiting for someone to take him
out. He hadn't even been touched. Three Fingers figured this one was a little
smarter. Neither one of them wanted to survive but both wanted to make it
worth the effort to take them out of the game.
He turned, shooting too soon. Finger tightening on the trigger as he zeroed in. Feeling the tightening in his chest. Fingers losing strength as he stared at the rod dribbling blood down his stomach. Eyes glazing in silent farewell.
Neddy trained his rifle on the woman who had just saved his life. "Why?"
"Why not?" She leaned down and pulled the rod out, watching the gush of blood pump up from the dead man's heart. "He would have taken you. You're losing your edge." She slid the rod back into the quiver that went with her cross bow. Better than bullets, she thought. Quiet and you can re-use the arrows.
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