12
The Forever Fly
“Whoa,” I said, lifting both hands shoulder high, palms out. “Easy. I’m unarmed. Please don’t shoot me.”
“I will! If you make me, I will!” she growled, jabbing the gun my way threateningly.
No, she wouldn’t. The safety was on and there wasn’t even a round in the chamber. I played along anyhow.
“What, uh, so what’s the plan here?” I asked calmly, making no sudden moves.
“I just want the horse,” she said. “Just put that saddle thingy on him and I won’t shoot you, ok?”
I struggled to keep a straight face at the word ‘thingy’. If she wasn’t pointing a gun at me, it would have been downright cute. I decided I liked her.
“She’s a she, not a he,” I pointed out. “Might be really big, but she’s definitely a she. Her name is Yazzie.”
“Whatever,” the woman said impatiently
