Don't Poke the Bear!

Chapter 17

I WALK A few more yards to the right, and watch the guy below try to move Shrug to compensate for the angle. His right foot has been shot twice, and he can't feel it when Shrug lets his leg fall to the side. When he does, I shoot the guy in the foot for the third time.

I give him credit for trainin' horses and bein' one tough bastard, but this third shot in the foot makes him start to cry.

"Let me go!" He yells. "I ain't done nothin' to you!"

He's been shot three times in the right foot, once in the left ankle. I've shot one of his ears off, and half his nose. All these wounds are bleedin', but he still manages to keep Shrug on him in such a way that it's hard to get a clean shot without hittin' my best friend.

Shrug knows this, so every now and then he moves a different part of his body. Since I don't know which part he's movin', I can't find the openings quick enough most of the time. But when Shrug suddenly lifts his right arm, I put a bullet in the center of the guy's left hand.

"Damn!" he yells, and I can imagine Shrug smilin'.

An hour goes by, durin' which time I shoot the rest of his nose off, and put two more slugs into his left hand.

Then I walk back to my horse.

"You leavin'?" he yells.

"Yup. You outlasted me!"

A few minutes later I come back and sit where I'd sat earlier.

"I knew you weren't leavin'!" he shouts.

"Glad to see me, are you?"

"You didn't shit that quick," he yells. "You must a' taken a piss."

"Nope. I was out of bullets. Had to reload."

"You're wastin' a lot of ammunition on one man!" he shouts.

"Can't help it! You're a tough man to kill."

"Damn right I am!"

I wait a few minutes, watchin' him suffer. Then I say, "I feel like I ought to tell you somethin'."

"Fuck you!"

A few minutes pass. Then he says, "What were you gonna tell me?"

"The guy that's layin' on top a' you."

"What about him?"

"He can kill you anytime he wants."

"Oh yeah? So why don't he?"

"He's havin' too much fun."

I take careful aim with my rifle, and wait for my words to sink in. Suddenly the guy lifts his gun up to smash it into Shrug's skull...

...Leavin' me enough room to shoot the gun out of his hand, just like Bad Vlad taught me.

I walk down the hill, noticin' he still hasn't moved out from under Shrug. Probably can't. When I'm standing next to 'em I say, "How'd you train your horses to do that?"

"I ain't tellin' you nothin'," he says.

"Pity. Those are damn fine horses."

"They'll stomp you to death first chance they get."

I frown.

"Shrug?" I say. "Kill him."

And Shrug does.