The blood was warm.
It carried the scent of metal and gunpowder.
By the time she opened her eyes, Matilda Murphy was already lying on the ground.
The gun had slipped from his grasp and flown off into the distance.
Victoria was breathing rapidly, it took her some time to realize that Hank Clegg was standing not far from her, also holding a gun.
She quickly knelt down, checking Matilda Murphy's heartbeat.
Hank Clegg also squatted down.
"Is he dead?" Victoria asked neurotically.
"Not yet," Hank Clegg replied calmly, "We don't know about later."
Seeing Victoria crying again, he gently squeezed her shoulder: "I knocked his gun away and the bullet probably missed, so let's hope it's only a minor wound."
"But..." Victoria's face was covered in tears, "Even if he is saved, some things can't be changed anymore..."
"So do you agree with him dying or living." Hank Clegg asked her straightforwardly.
