1.24.2016

Page 4

She grips tighter.  Her knuckles go white.
“Hand me the knife.”  He steps closer and brings his voice to a whisper.
She shoots out a palm to his chest.  Thaxton stumbles back slightly and grunts.  He extends a hand and opens it slowly.  “The knife.”
“N…n...n...n...No!”
He sighs and pulls out a medallion from under his shirt.  It is a wooden wheel, strung with a fraying leather cord.  He spends a moment looking at it and then tucks it away again.  “No one in Thuja openly carries a weapon.  You are drawing attention to yourself.”
She grinds her teeth side to side.  A vision of drawing the knife and stabbing Thaxton in the chest plays out in her mind’s eye.  She sees the arc of the weapon.  She sees the blade penetrate the flesh, miss the ribs and piece the heart.  She sees his body slump lifeless to the ground.  She growls quietly and shakes her head.  Shakes the vision away.
He steps forward again and again she pushes him.  As he staggers this time, she runs.  People watch.  Thaxton watches.  No one follows her.  No one stops her.  They move out of her way silently and continue on.

No comments: