Page 177 of New Storm Rising
For me at least.
As for others…
I glanced sideways at the huge form of Karim trying to take cover behind a boulder half his size.
“Um…do you think you can crouch a little lower?”
He glowered at me from where he had his nose almost pressed to the ground. “No!”
“Err…how about you at least take that off?” Cautiously, I pointed to the turban that towered nearly three feet above the top of the rock.
The death glare he sent me was answer enough.
“The enemies are down there, remember?” I pointed over the rock in front of me—then quickly drew back my finger when a bullet whizzed by. Grumbling, he nodded and reloaded his rifle. As for myself, I quickly shifted places again, and took aim once more.
Bam!
Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one using tactics and common sense. Down below, the desperados were working in perfect tandem. Between the broken-off rocks scattered below the cliff, they moved swiftly and effectively, one firing relentlessly up at us, while another moved from cover to cover, closing in on the cliff.
“Crap, crap, crap! They’re good at this! Too bloody good!”
“They have a combined bounty of half a million dollars on their heads and are still alive,” Mr Ambrose reminded me. “Of coursethey are good at this.”
“You sound almost admiring,” I squeezed out between gritted teeth.
He sent me a “duh” kind of look. “Of course! It’s half a million dollars.”
“Could you stop thinking about money and focus a little more on survival?”
Lifting his revolver, Mr Ambrose took aim. “I, Mrs Ambrose, am fully capable—”Bam! Bam!“—of multitasking.”
And that he was. Face set in icy determination, he fired nearly as fast as a Gatling gun, and most certainly as deadly. Already several dead or injured desperados lay strewn across the ground down below. But those were just hired thugs. The real threats, the real killers, were weaving between the bullets with ease, moving closer with every second. It wasn’t long before the outlaws were pressed against the bottom of the cliff, out of sight and, more importantly, out of shooting range.
“Chitara!” Karim cursed in his native tongue.
“I have no idea what that means,” I squeezed out, “but I agree completely!”
With a metallicshhhink, Mr Ambrose slid another round of bullets home. “Any suggestions?”
“Sadly, no,Sahib.”
“Mrs Ambrose?”
“Well…” A wicked grin spread across my face. “I might have one.”
And, grabbing the rock that rested in front of me atop the cliff with both hands, I pushed. Tumbling down the precipice, the rock whistled through the air, until…
“Aagh!”
Crunch!
I raised an eyebrow as the two men stared at me. “What? It’s not like we need cover anymore, now that they’re almost in front of our noses.”
Mr Rikkard Ambrose considered this for about a quarter of a second—then grabbed his own rock and pitched it over the edge of the cliff.
“Gaah!”
Thud!
