Page 5 of Little Dove

“It’s hard to leave when you don’t have the funds to do so,” she states matter-of-factly. “And also, pride. I’m not about to give them the satisfaction of letting them think they’ve run me off.”

“Or stubbornness,” I counter.

She shrugs. “Call it whatever you want, but I’ve been here for a long time, and I’ll be damned if anyone is going to run me away.”

“Including that fucker who dared to put his hands on you.” She has no idea how much willpower it took for me not to shoot him. Or how much I want to go back even now and make him pay for hurting her.

No one gets to hurt her. Ever.

She glances over at me. “Including him. Ezra isn’t a man that likes to be told no, and we have some bad history from years ago, so he likes to throw that in my face when he’s not getting his way.Here we are. Old Mill Town. Not the most original name, but the locals like it. Apparently there used to be an old mill around here, but it burnt down a century ago, and since they never bothered to rebuild it, everyone left and resettled elsewhere.”

We’re almost to the wide archway at the town’s entrance. From here I can see two bulls running at each other intricately carved into the wooden frame. Time has eroded it, and the sun has bleached it, but it’s still clear enough. From the frame’s slight twist, it’s seen some harsh weather and wind. Beyond it, I can start to make out the buildings that Amara mentioned.

She’s right, it does look like a western town from all those old American movies my mother used to watch when we were growing up.

We walk through, and I count eight buildings lining either side of the main street. It’s certainly not a big spot; from the large old spools and one perfectly placed, broken down wagon, it feels more like a movie set than real life. Still, for being so old, the buildings are in damn good shape.

We just have to hope that hiding out in one of them will be enough to keep us safe until Alessio can send us an extraction team. I’m running low on bullets, so if more of Marco’s men show up, I’ll need to be strategic with how I use them.

We walk down main street until we get to the center and I stop, looking around. I see a post office, an old saloon, a general store, a barber shop, a tailor, a gun shop, a Sheriff’s building, and a brothel. Who knew they were so open with their sexual escapades? Then again, things back then were different than they are now.

“Do you know if any of these buildings are better to hide out in until I can get us out of here?” I ask Amara curiously.

She shakes her head. “I’ve only been here a few times, and the only one I went inside was the general store because theywere selling drinks and snacks for the festival. But it’s empty inside; just a few prop shelves and the old cash register.”

“Do they leave things behind after those festivals?” Perhaps there is some food or water we can find.

She shrugs. “Possibly, but it’s old and moldy by now if they have. Or some teenagers or vagrants have already come and grabbed it.” Then she gives me a narrowed-eyed look. “How long do you think we’re going to be here? And when are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“As soon as we’re out of here,” I promise her. “Right now, we need to get ourselves inside before they send more men here looking.”

“You think there are going to be more?” She sounds both shocked and wary, but not afraid. I’ll take that over fear any day.

“It’s only a matter of time. So let’s get inside and find the best place to lie low.” I hope we can get out of here quickly if things go south.

3

AMARA

Well,this certainly isn’t how I foresaw my day turning out. Then again, how does one prepare for a random shootout, a fiery crash, and now being stuck in an abandoned town with a giant of a man who clearly knows how to use a gun? I’ll bet everything I have left that he’s not a good Samaritan, in the right place at the right time. But seeing as I’m now in the middle of the whole thing, it’s not like I have much choice.

Though running isn’t off the table if shit gets weird. He might be big, but I’m small and fast, and I know all kinds of places to hide in the desert. Not to mention, how to find water and food if I need it. When you’re an unwanted kid, and later, a down on your luck adult, you learn a few things.

Still, Old Mill Town is a place I’ve never really looked into. Mostly because whenever I’m out this way it’s full of people, and I try not to spend too much time around others if I can help it. I put up with enough abuse on a daily basis, why add to it?Now I’m wishing I just sucked it up and dealt with it, because knowing where to hide right now would be helpful.

Not to mention, a good way to shake the big guy if things go bad.

We walk up the steps into the post office, and I try the handle. Unsurprisingly, it’s unlocked and the door swings open with a loud groan, making me wince. The air smells stale, and the room is full of dust, dirt, and sand, but it’s mostly empty. There’s not a thing to hide behind or under. The main counter with all the empty boxes sits on the back wall, along with an ancient-looking cash register.

“Probably not the best place to hide,” I muse, looking around again.

Lazaro—if that’s even his real name—moves behind the counter, bending to inspect underneath. I hold back a laugh at the sight. He’s as large as the entire space back there, and I’m surprised he even managed to fit. Finally, he straightens and suggests, “Let’s keep moving.”

Nodding, I turn to the door at the right of the room. “All of these buildings are connected inside,” I explain. “Which means if we find a spot to hide in, we’re going to need to barricade a few doors.”

He nods and follows me, ducking to get through the doorway. I stop once we’re inside what I assume was a tailor shop, if the pedestal and three-sided mirror are anything to go by. The mirror is caked in a layer of dust, so I can barely make out our reflection. I glance toward the back and see an empty sewing station, the lone chair’s leg snapped and propped up only by the table. To the front is a single pane window, and what I assume used to be the cash register near the door. It’s nothing more than an empty wooden decoration now.

“Not much here, either,” Lazaro remarks, moving to the sewing area. “And it’s too open. Even sitting behind the counterthere, we’ll be too close to the window. One look inside and they’ll spot us.”

---