Ling Moy could hear the horses behind her as she ran. She had dropped her shotgun somewhere behind her, but she had pulled the trigger twice. Its barrels were as empty as her stomach. She came back out to the main street and bullets were flying in all directions.
“Stop running, you flash-girl!” roared a voice behind her.
The wooden flooring she ran across exploded and wood fragments flew around her face. She tripped and fell into the street. The ground thumped beneath her as the horse moved closer to her. She rolled over and found herself lying in front of O-Lan. The man on the horse laughed as he aimed his pistol at them. She threw her arms over her face.
The gun in O-Lan’s hands barked and the horse threw itself upward. The rider slipped off the back and tumbled to the ground. O-Lan strode forward with no fear showing on her face as she pulled the trigger on her pistol two more times.
Though muffled, Ling Moy heard O-Lan curse, “Stupid, color-seeking wolf.”
Ling Moy slowly sat up when a pistol clattered next to her.
O-Lan shouted, “Get up lazy bug! We aren’t done yet.”