Crimson’s voice now sounded a little hysterical, as if he were scared something awful might befall him if he stopped talking. But he soon ran out of breath, he knew too much and Chartreuse pulled the trigger before Hunter made up his mind.
The second time she’d killed.
Setri had been awake since 5am. She had loaded and unloaded her father’s revolver three or four times, distractedly. It was a clunky, Russian-made weapon and it didn’t always fire. Once she’d finished reloading the g*n, she checked her phone. She had no credit. She couldn’t call anyone. The battery was almost depleted. Outside, the heat burned everything. Just a few minutes in this sun could make a grown man cry. And Setri was not a grown man. Not by any stretch.
The village elders and their goondas had come for her fathe
