A Violent Winter. Scene Thirteen.

person in red jacket walking on snow covered ground

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As Jefferson continued to pull himself toward her, Selena grabbed a stick from a nearby pile of brush.

The sound of gunfire swelled to a crescendo as Jefferson pulled himself to his feet and began to run.

The easy lope of a wolf bounding toward his prey.

Selena stood her ground and prepared for battle. For too long she had given way under his assaults. What had it got her?

She needed to be strong for her son.

The swing of the stick was easily deflected with a brush of his arm.

Selena staggered backward as her enemy pressed his advantage.

“Betray me. Will you? After all I’ve done for you.” Jefferson raised his pistol toward her head. Selena closed her eyes preparing for the final impact.

There was nothing.

Her eyes blinked open.

Jefferson lay on the ground before her feet.

“I tripped him mom.” Her son held up a thin rod. “See.”

She gathered her son in her arms as a sob of relief shuddered from her slender form. “Good for you Jamie.”

“Sorry I’m late ma’m.” A member of the posse was towering over them. “I saw what happened but I couldn’t get here in time.”

The storm of gunfire subsided he hauled Jefferson to his feet.

“Well. Well. If it isn’t Jefferson Little himself,” the posse member laughed. “Looks like your theivin days are over.”

Other members of the posse were filtering out from the forest. Some nursed wounds, others prodded gang members before them. This fight was over.

Selena’s thoughts turned toward a vision of Walter, laying motionless in the snow.

Panic overwhelmed her as she headed down the trail back toward the town.

She had to see what had happened to him.

To be continued…

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