Zhi stopped. She turned around, putting her hands up behind her head. Her turn to giggle, to sneer at him like he was stupid. But there was an acrid stench in the smell of her sweat. It wasn't as if she wanted to die, was okay with the idea. But laughing was always better than showing fear. Always.
"Ye kill me, won't solve yer problem. Yer bein' flat cockered, churl, an' that ain't me fault."
She wasn't looking at the barrel. That was hard. She was looking at him, pretending it didn't exist. Pretending she wasn't a half second away from death.
"Ye kill me, an' yer off worse."
The kid was too young and too desperate for money to have any connections that mattered. He was like Zhi. Someone killed him? There'd be precious few people asking questions. Fewer still who wanted to do anything about it.
"Ye kill me, won't solve yer problem. Yer bein' flat cockered, churl, an' that ain't me fault."
She wasn't looking at the barrel. That was hard. She was looking at him, pretending it didn't exist. Pretending she wasn't a half second away from death.
"Ye kill me, an' yer off worse."
The kid was too young and too desperate for money to have any connections that mattered. He was like Zhi. Someone killed him? There'd be precious few people asking questions. Fewer still who wanted to do anything about it.
