Something About Chapter 6

Faeryn felt the rush of the gun up through her whole arm.
Through her whole body. It sent a chill down her spine and
she shuddered silently with the recoil of the gun. Everything
slowed down to a snail's pace in that moment and Faeryn
was able to take the whole scene in with incredible clarity.
She had always been able to slow things down to a level
where she had more time to think, to react. It was just one of
those many talents she used to be made fun of for. Now, it
was part of her survival.
She was able to watch in stunned silence as the crouching
man was knocked swiftly off his feet with her well-aimed
shot. He landed with a heavy thud on the dusty ground, his
last breath knocked out of his lungs in a rush and a poof of
dust. As his boots settled on the ground she looked around
and took in the events.
The two men, one Brian and one not, spun around from their
captive girls, they had their clumsy hands on the butts of their
guns, but not quickly enough. Faeryn already had her gun
cocked back and pointed square between the eyes of the one
who was not Brian. Not Brian took a moment to look around
and saw the body of the crouching man on the dusty ground.
He lay in a growing puddle of dark red mud. The toes of his
boots pointed to the night sky. Crouching man's gun lay a foot
or so from his hand.
Faeryn watched this with sly amusement; she knew it would
take her less than a second to kill both of these men. But she
didn't want to just yet, and as long as nothing interfered there
would be no problems. But no sooner than she thought that,
someone did interfere. One of the captive girls stood up. A low
growl rose from her throat, as she dusted herself off. Her hood
fell back to reveal stunning auburn hair and flashing green
eyes.
Not Brian was too occupied with the dead shot six-shooter
staring him in the eye to turn around at the sound of the girl's
growl from behind him. But Brian turned around. And he did it
quickly enough so that he was able to pull out his gun.
He wasn't quite quick enough though and the red-head was
able to turn and kick him swiftly in the groin. He dropped to
the ground holding his balls. His gun fell forgotten next to him
and the red-head picked it up off the ground.
Faeryn watched this all with fascination. It was strange what
limits one could find when pushed to the edge, she thought as
she stared at the young girl. She was now standing over Brian
with his own gun pointed at his face. Faeryn made note to
herself that the gun the red-head so cleverly got from Brian
was useless as it was. There was no bullet in the chamber.
The other girl was now huddled quietly in the pooling
darkness by the benches along the outer edge of the fire. The
girl that Faeryn recognized, from so long ago.
"What the hell Ed, come fucking help me. Kill these bitches
and fucking help me!" Brian yelled out from his vulnerable
position on the ground.
Not Brian, now known as Ed, spun around at the sound of his
friend's voice. He had, until then, remained fixated on the gun
that was apt to take his life. But now, carelessly he decided
that the strange dark haired girl was not going to shoot him.
Faeryn saw this all in slow motion, she saw what the man
named Ed planned to do; he wouldn't finish his plan, not this
time.
Ed made his spin without an issue and wound back his arm.
He slapped the crazy red-headed girl hard across the face.
She went sprawling into the dirt, but quickly regained her
posture and held up the gun at Ed. She pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
A deafening blast rung through the night air, that was
otherwise silent before, save for the panting of the downed
man, Brian. Ed clapped his hand to his forehead as a small
dark hole appeared there. His hat flew off his head and blood
began to rush fluidly from between his fingers. He fell to the
ground with a sickening thud, spreading his own dark roan
puddle of mud under his face. It was the same color as the
puddle underneath the crouching man.
The girl with the red hair sat in shock, covered in the blood of
the man named Ed. Her commandeered gun sat beside her in
a sad gesture of surrender.
All of that happened in a matter of seconds that to Faeryn
lasted a lifetime. But there was still the problem of the man
Brian.
He sat in the dust, gunless and afraid; he backed away from
Faeryn, skidding slowly along the ground on his ass. Sweat
dampened his face and his lip trembled. His boots scurried
along in front of him in a completely useless fashion as he slid
himself backwards.
Faeryn took one step toward him. A small smile spread on her
face but was gone as soon as it was there. She held up her
gun and cocked it back. Her finger rested gently on the
trigger.
"Oh, you bitch." Mumbled Brian, seemingly to the empty night
behind Faeryn.
A gunshot went off before Faeryn even had time to pull the
trigger of her gun. Brian was knocked backwards into the
dust, his body convulsed once and he fell silent, adding to the
already mounting stench of death.
Faeryn turned around to see where the shot had come from,
half expecting the red headed girl, but knowing full well who
she would see.
Despite the matted quality of the blond curls, and the tear
stains on the freckled cheeks, Faeryn couldn't mistake who it
was that stood in front of her.