"What about you?" Wendy asked. Zhang Heng was not precisely an expert horserider. If the situation turned ugly, he probably wouldn't be escaping on horseback. "I may be desperate to find my father, but I don't want you to risk your life either. If things don't work out here, we can always get out of this town. We can still seek help in the other towns nearby."
"Where? Rensselar or Spurs? These two are the nearest towns, but they only have one sheriff. Or were you thinking about going back to Glen and ask Sheriff Doland, whose horse I killed, for help? Let's not talk about his stand first. Once we leave, they will surely suspect something isn't right."
Zhang Heng was just finished cleaning the rifle. "Don't worry. I can handle it."
"How? You said before that they could be a whole group of them—five, seven… worst-case scenario, there could be dozens of them, and you're only one man. Not to mention your horseriding sucks."
