Page 6 of Suncatcher

Pearl spun, pain flaring across her back, her elbow swinging and connecting before her eyes did with her attacker.

Two more shots rang out near the water. Pearl’s gut clenched as part of her registered what those sounds meant, but she focused on the enemy in front of her.

Slipping a knife from its sheath on her thigh, she ducked beneath the second blow of the heavy wooden bat. She tried to stand, but the pain of the earlier strike kept her doubled over, so she worked with it and channeled most of the blight in her body to the spot, suppressing the pain to stop it from hindering her. She should’ve eaten more of it.

Or perhaps not. The world moved too fast, the sensation a combination of being too drunk and too awake at once. She hurled herself forward, burying the blade in his inner thigh. The man crumpled and she swiped the bat from him on the way down, chucking it toward the water.

Her fingers brushed the handle of her second revolver when hands caught her own. She bucked, slamming her head into the face above her. Then familiar metal pressed into her cheek.

She looked up at Marcus, who panted, one bloody hand clamped over his side but the other steady as he held her own weapon to her skin.

“You should’ve aimed better,” Marcus gasped.

“I wish I had,” Pearl spat.

Her upper back pinched with pain the fading blight couldn’t disguise as her wrists were tied behind her. She glanced sideways at the forms of the mules trundling away, patience spooked by the close gunfire.

Billy and Willy lay unmoving by the bank. They’d been good men, for the most part. Far better than Marcus. But her chance to tell him so was cut short by the bitter gag stuffed in her mouth. It tugged on her false teeth.

“I wasn’t planning on you being here. But I’m sure your mama will pay a pretty price for her precious Princess Pea back, don’t you think?”

Pearl’s insult was lost behind the gag.

Four men surrounded her. Not the worst odds she’d faced. The one she’d stabbed in the leg still lay on the ground, twitching as he bled profusely. He’d stupidly pulled the knife free. The remaining three seemed to have already written him off but without the decency to just end it.

They finally noticed their predicament of the heavy, unhitched cart, and the two upright strangers, one clutching a wicked nosebleed courtesy of Pearl’s skull, went running after the mules. Marcus didn’t look away, his eyes boring into her with a malevolent gleam. She glared back, pouring everything she couldn’t say into her gaze.

She tested the bindings on her wrists, to see if she had enough blight left to enhance her strength to break them. They strained, but held. She definitely should’ve eaten more.

Marcus smiled, and winced. The wound on his side had spread dark red blood down to his boot, wet and sticky, and he swayed.

Thunder rumbled again, and lightning lit the darkening sky.

The men returned without the mules.

“We’ve gotta leave the cart,” one said.

“The cart was the point. We need this,” the other snapped.

“We got her.” The first jabbed his thumb toward Pearl. “She’ll be worth far more.”

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea. Let’s just kill her and be done with it. You really want Sheriff Oak to know it was us?”

“She don’t scare me.”

“Then you’re stupider than I thought.”

“Shut up!” Marcus snapped. “It’s already getting dark. Let’s get to higher ground and hope the storm passes without washing us away.”

The second man pulled out his own revolver. “And she’ll slow us down.”

“You aren’t gonna shoot her,” Marcus countered.

For once, Pearl agreed with the bastard.

His attention was distracted. And Pearl took her chance.

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