“I think he did,” Letty said. “Yo, man, you think . . .”
Sawyer walked through the open door and they heard a voice, uncertain which man, and then . . .
Crack!
“He fuckin’ shot him,” Kaiser said. He sounded astonished.
Letty already had her pack open. She pulled out the Staccato case, unzipped it, took out the gun, and jacked a round into the chamber.
Kaiser: “Wait!”
“No. I’m going.”
She slid out the back of the tent, and Kaiser pushed his way after her, keeping the shotgun pointed at the building’s front door. Letty moved to her right, until the nearest oil tank was between her and the front door, and then ran lightly toward it, Kaiser a step behind her. Letty looked around the oil tank, then ran on to the next one, watching the door.
As she got to the tank, the lights in the building went out and Sawyer stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him, moving toward his truck.
Letty shouted, “Stop there! Get on the ground! Get on the ground or I’ll kill you.”
Sawyer froze, then said, “That you, girlie? Letty?”
“Get on the ground. I’m looking at your forehead with my red dot.”
“Don’t shoot, I’m going down . . .” Sawyer slowly knelt, then flattened out in the dirt.
“Take your gun out, don’t point it, push it away from you. Push it over there . . . If you fuckin’ try anything, I’ll kill you.”
“Like I said, you’re a mean little bitch. The gun’s on my back . . .”
“I know. Roll up and take it with your off hand and push it . . .”
Kaiser came up beside her with the shotgun as Sawyer rolled up on his side, reached to his back with his left hand, caught his pistol with his fingertips, and tossed it off to his left. “That’s the second time you made me throw a good gun down in the dirt.”
Letty asked, “You kill Winks?”
Without thinking, she stepped to her left, bumping Kaiser, and Kaiser said, “No,” and swung the shotgun to his left, and at that instant, Sawyer pulled a second pistol with his good hand and Kaiser said “Shit!” or something like that, and pushed Letty and followed her down behind the oil tank as Sawyer fired twice at them, the slugs whanging off the oil tank.
Letty did a quick peek and he fired again, and she switched the Staccato to her left hand, did another quick peek at Sawyer, who’d scrambled to his feet, and she shot him, low, she thought, and he screamed and went down and she shot him again as he was rolling under his Jeep and he turned and fired half a magazine off the side of the oil tank.
Kaiser grabbed Letty by the arm, jerked her away from the edge of the tank, stepped sideways and fired three rounds under the Jeep.
“That had to . . .”
“I don’t think . . .”
Sawyer, from behind the Jeep, shouted, “You a pussy? C’mon out and we’ll settle it . . . We’ll both come out and we’ll settle it head-to-head, gunslinger.” He laughed, and the laugh sounded like a scream.
Letty looked up at Kaiser, who shrugged and whispered, “What the fuck?”
“All right, I’m stepping out now,” Letty cried. “Let’s see what you got, cowboy.”
One second later, Sawyer popped up at the back of his Jeep, his gun hand aimed where Letty should have been. Nothing of Letty protruded from behind the oil tank except her left eye and left hand and she shot Sawyer in the forehead.
“Moron,” she said, as he went down. “Watched way too much TV.”