I was shaking and aiming right at him and all I had to do was pull the trigger. But I couldn't. I stood there like that and I told myself to do it, an... I couldn't.Then Molly was screaming at me. "Do it!" she yelled. Her voice was all shrill and hoarse and crazy. "Kill him! Shoot him. Do it, damn you! Do it!" She was lying there on the floor and when I looked at her her face was all twisted up, and she was screaming at me to do it.But I couldn't.I lowered the gun off my shoulder. I was still. He had a wide red sash which was retained and was fastened by a loose hanging belt, which held two pistol holsters on the back. On his right arm he had attached a hidden blade which was properly concealed from spying eyes, he flexed his wrist feeling the device tighten; it was ready to use.The smells of vomit, piss, and shit assaulted his nose which he wrinkled. Men barfing in corners or lying in their own faeces made him grimace. While this might seem characteristic of the era, he knew the. More

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