Six Shots
Matthew Ryan Fischer
“How many
bullets do you have left?”
“Twelve.
Maybe twelve.”
“How old are
they?”
“I don’t
know. Do bullets go bad?”
“Well, the
gunpowder can age. Just be careful. Clean it and check the barrel to make sure there’s
no obstruction.”
“What about
you?”
“Less.”
“What’s
less?”
“I’ve got
an old six shooter.”
“Your
rifle?”
“It’ll
scare some people, maybe. But it won’t do us much more good than that.”
“We’re not
going to make it, are we?”
“Not with
that attitude we won’t.”
…
“No. We probably
won’t.”
“If I die
first, you have my permission to keep my share of things.”
“Half of nothing?
How generous of you.”
“Should we
get moving.”
“Let the
sun set a little bit more. Maybe we can hide in the shadows and not get noticed
so soon.”
“Hey, if our
gun powder can go bad, so can theirs.”
“Very true.
Good point.”
“That should
even our odds.”
“It just
might.”
“So…”
“Yeah.”
“Stick to
the shadows?”
“Stick to
the shadows.”
“Should we
get moving?”
“Any
minute now. Let’s just wait a minute more. Make sure it feels right, you know?”
“Totally.”
“We’ll
know. It’ll feel right. Then we’ll go…”
“Any
minute now.”
“Any
minute.”
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