Everything seems to happen at the same time. My hands fly up to my mouth to stifle the scream. The bullet zings toward Clay, who snaps toward the sound, his eyes narrow, his revolvers gleaming. The sleeve of Clay’s shirt ripples as the bullet zips past, fraying the fabric. Clay dives toward an outcropping of rock and disappears behind it. Bear Paws drops behind our Jeep and issues a sting of foreign curse words below me. One of the twins gurgles his dying breath. Then silence descends, heavy like a blanket.

The only sound is my hot breath in and out in quick succession. No one moves. One of the Riders, the smaller twin perhaps, whines below. I slip a quick peek over the side of the Jeep and peer down on my enemies. Bear Paws hunches against a tire, his rifle clutched to his chest. He blinks sweat out of his eyes. His tongue darts out and licks at his lip in nervous pulses. The smaller twin sponges clots of blood off his dead brother’s neck with part of his loincloth. He begins praying in a language I can’t understand. No one pays me any mind.

Clay’s crouched behind the boulder, still and silent. Why doesn’t he shoot? Maybe he’s worried he’ll hit us. Or maybe he only had two bullets.

Bear Paws takes a deep breath, heaves up and aims, squinting with one eye over the stock. The gun cracks. Clay’s rock cover explodes, sending pebbles and dust in all directions. No response from Clay. Bear Paws drops back down and reloads.

Silence. A crow caws from the ridge. Why won’t Clay fire?

Someone’s shuffling around at the base of the Jeep. My eyes flick to the ground where the smaller twin crawls forward on his hands and knees. Something in his hands glints in the sun— truck keys. His eyes flick between Clay’s rock cover and the truck. He’s going to run. I’m elated, but then it dawns on me—he knows my secret. If he leaves now, he’ll just be back with more guns and ammo.

With one more glance to his dead brother, he scrambles up and sprints to the truck. He throws his arms over his head like that one gesture will keep him from being shot up. I can’t let him escape, but I can’t run into the open without catching a bullet in the back.

Bear Paws yells after him. “Juto, you bastard! Get back here.” But Juto isn’t stopping. He’ll soon be kicking up dust as he peels away.