drabble continuation
Aug. 2nd, 2008 02:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaebilityMore of this drabble. Cross-posted from my IJ.
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There were voices, fluttering like moths in the dark, and Ben held his breath and strained his ears to give names to the speakers, to decide how best to silence them. They quieted as they dispersed; stupid bastards couldn't find a mountain if they were standing on top of one. "The careless ease of fools shall destroy them," he recited through his smirk.
Another patrol might come around - provided not all of Big Jacob's gang were empty-headed asses - but they had a minute to breath. He crouched down and slid his hand under Dan's jacket, assessing the damage. There was a puddle next to the bumps of Dan's spine, and the rancher hissed and shrugged when Ben pressed his fingers against the wet cloth. "No good," he said, flattening his palm against the wound. "Bullet came out all right, but you're bleedin' like pig."
"No shit." Dan leaned against the side of the barn as he stood. It took him a second to steady himself, but when he spoke again, his voice was firm. "Gimme my gun. I'll be fine."
"No." Ben's hand went to the stolen revolver shoved under his belt. "The horses are tied to the post 'round the corner. Get 'em and head back; I'll take care of this. Meet you at the river when I'm done."
===
There were voices, fluttering like moths in the dark, and Ben held his breath and strained his ears to give names to the speakers, to decide how best to silence them. They quieted as they dispersed; stupid bastards couldn't find a mountain if they were standing on top of one. "The careless ease of fools shall destroy them," he recited through his smirk.
Another patrol might come around - provided not all of Big Jacob's gang were empty-headed asses - but they had a minute to breath. He crouched down and slid his hand under Dan's jacket, assessing the damage. There was a puddle next to the bumps of Dan's spine, and the rancher hissed and shrugged when Ben pressed his fingers against the wet cloth. "No good," he said, flattening his palm against the wound. "Bullet came out all right, but you're bleedin' like pig."
"No shit." Dan leaned against the side of the barn as he stood. It took him a second to steady himself, but when he spoke again, his voice was firm. "Gimme my gun. I'll be fine."
"No." Ben's hand went to the stolen revolver shoved under his belt. "The horses are tied to the post 'round the corner. Get 'em and head back; I'll take care of this. Meet you at the river when I'm done."
