Time slows as the body of the Outsider leader hits the dirt at my feet. I hold a smoking gun in one hand and a bloody knife in the other. The eyes of his followers move from his body to me, their disbelief palpable. I’m not sure if it’s because I murdered the hell out of their leader or if it’s because I’m a woman.
“Come and get me, motherfuckers!” I scream the challenge.
If I don’t survive this confrontation, then I’ll go down with the same die-trying attitude I’ve lived my entire life.
Someone shouts and the other Outsiders wake up to what has happened. I hit the ground, dig my fingers into the dead man’s coat and roll with the body against the side of the vehicle.
Bullets thump into his carcass as I use him for cover. I twist my head around to look under the vehicle. I’m on the edge of the clearing with the Outsiders to my front. There’s no one to the back of the car. Maybe if I can get to the other side, I can disappear into the trees.
I can almost guarantee I’m faster than any man here. They won’t get a chance to touch me if I can put some distance between me and them.
I check the chamber of my gun. Ten bullets.
I pull myself under the vehicle, keeping my eyes on the booted feet approaching the car. The fit under the car is tight, but I’m able to maneuver my gun around to shoot the foot off someone who gets too close.
He screams as he goes down; a warning to the others that I’m not fucking kidding around.
I drag myself out from the other side of the car and calculate the distance to the tree line where Scarlett disappeared a few minutes ago. I twist around to peek over the top of the car. The Outsiders are converging; I won’t have time to make it to the trees. Even a bad shot could get me in the back at that distance.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mumble.
I reach over my head and try the door handle. It’s unlocked.
I drag the car door open and dive inside. The car will provide minimal cover, but it’s better than staying out in the open.
They quickly realize where I’ve gone and shout at each other to shoot inside the car. I use the few bullets I have left in the gun to take them out one at a time.
Wolfe taught me how to shoot. He’d been relentless, forcing me to do it over and over until he was satisfied that I was a better shot than he was.
Every bullet out of my borrowed gun finds a home. One after the other, the Outsiders go down. I’m confident they won’t be getting up again.
I can’t be sure how many are left, but my original count was eighteen and I know for sure I’ve maimed and killed seven of them, including their leader. Eleven is plenty enough left to finish me if they come at me all at once.
