Blaze felt a sudden, raw knot of something in his gut. Maybe it was fear or a hard, bright focus. He tightened his hand on Nancy’s reins and tried to keep her breath even.
It was clear that everybody was on edge. They had been riding for ages, and now it felt like they were crossing into uncharted territory.
“Too many shadows,” Chato murmured.
The Indian eased his white Appaloosa mare ahead a little, listening with his whole body.
Then, the world broke open.
A rifle cracked from the right bank. Nancy screamed a high, terrible cry and bolted, but a second shot punched through her flank.
The horse stumbled, a hot spume of blood washing over Blaze’s leg.
“Down!” Marisol shouted.
Blaze hit the ground hard. The world slid sideways as Nancy pitched and collapsed. The great animal’s weight thudded down across Blaze’s thigh and chest. Sand bit into his palms as he clawed for freedom.
Hot metal screamed in the air. It was gunfire from both banks.
“Get off me!” Blaze yelled, his voice raw with panic.
He dug his fingers between Nancy’s ribs, rocking with everything he had. The horse’s breaths came ragged and short, wild eyes staring into the clouded sky.
Blood pooled warm and slick beneath them. Blaze felt the animal’s muscle spasms against his legs and the sharp shock of a bullet’s heat still hanging in the air.
“They shot at him!” Marisol bellowed.
She fired twice, her rifle cracking and echoing off the banks.
Blaze heard one rider land in a tumble of dust. Another one screamed and pitched forward, hit through the shoulder. Blaze couldn’t see all of it. It was hard to tell how many bandits were surrounding them.
“Stay down!” Chato’s voice came from somewhere on the right.
He had already jumped off his horse and vanished into the scrub, moving like a shadow against the rock.
Blaze felt Nancy shift again. Then her body went still, heavy as a sack. For a stunned moment, Blaze lay there with his face in the sand, lungs burning, every limb screaming.
“Marisol!” he croaked.
Her hands were on him in an instant, fingers tearing at the cinch, at the leather, trying to free him. Bullets knifed the bank above and thudded dirt near their heads. Blaze’s leg was stuck. The taste of iron filled his mouth.
“Hold,” Marisol snapped.
Her voice was a blade. She jerked the reins free with one hand and shoved Blaze hard. He rolled and scrambled, the horse’s dead weight thumping the earth with a dull finality as it toppled fully on its side.
Blaze crawled away from it, dragging his trapped boot free. His limbs burned with effort.
But there was no time to relax.
“Get down!” Chato shouted from the right again.
More shots slashed overhead as Blaze flattened himself on the ground.
He found a hollow behind a half-buried boulder and shoved his back against it, the grit digging into his spine. He tried to breathe normally, and his throat was raw.
His heart hammered like a fist on a door.
“They came out of nowhere,” Marisol said, reloading with machine-quick hands. “It’s an ambush from both directions.”
