“There wasn’t supposed to be anybody else here.”
“No. She,” he said, glancing at Kerra, “was a mean surprise. Otherwise, I had it all worked out.”
Looking into the man’s rock-steady gaze, Trapper murmured, “But things didn’t go as planned.”
“You could say.”
“That was then.” Hank’s impatience drew Trapper’s attention back to him. The rifle barrel was still aimed at his chest. “This is now. And I’ve got this all worked out.”
Trapper made brief eye contact with Kerra. Her face was stark with fear. His own heart was stuttering, but, trying to keep his tone casual, he drawled, “You do? Just out of curiosity, Hank, how do you plan on killing the three of us and getting away with it?”
“I’m not going to kill anybody.” He forced Kerra’s index finger around the trigger. “Kerra is.”
“No!”
“I’ll let her choose who goes first.” Hank shifted the rifle’s barrel fractionally so the bore was now aimed at The Major. “She can put The Major out of his misery. That would be rather poetic, wouldn’t it? He saved her life, she ends his. The irony of it gives me cold chills. Or,” he said, aiming again at Trapper, “she can shoot you.”
“Not with that rifle she can’t. It isn’t loaded.” Trapper lowered his raised hands.
“Keep them up,” Hank shouted.
“No, no, no,” Kerra was saying as she strained against Hank’s increased pressure on her finger.
“Hank, for god’s sake, stop this.” The Major placed his hands on the arms of the recliner as though to lever himself up, but Jenks pulled him back and cocked his revolver.
Trapper kept his eyes trained on Kerra’s. “Pull the trigger.”
She gave a small but emphatic shake of her head.
“It’s not loaded,” Trapper said.
Hank laughed loudly in her ear, causing her to cringe. “Like I’d fall for that.”
“Did you check it, Hank?” Trapper asked.
Hank hesitated, “I didn’t need to.”
“Jenks always does what you tell him to?”
“Always.”
Trapper turned his head and looked at Jenks. No expression, solid as granite, nary a twitch, but keenly alert to every blink of an eye.
Trapper came back around to Hank. “If you’re sure the rifle is loaded, then seconds from now I’ll be dead, and you’ll be happy.”
“John, what are you doing?” The Major said, wheezing. “Stop provoking him.”
Trapper said, “Kerra, pull the trigger.”
“I can’t.” Her voice was mournful, barely audible.
“Nothing will happen.”
Hank chortled. “You’re bluffing, Trapper.”
“Pull the trigger, Kerra.”
“Trapper, please,” she sobbed. “I can’t.”