stalemate
I fell to the ground. What else was I going to do?
The hole in my shoulder pulsed, and I looked her in the eye.
“You don’t want to kill me.”
“No, I guess not, but you deserve it.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
The desert wind blew up, then. Just a freakin’ accident, and there was still Monty to think of.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“No.”