The Scalp Hunters

A Killer’s Creed

Logan darted around his mount and drew both flintlocks.

Dega did the only thing he could think of; he spun and ran. He braced for a searing pain in his back but no shots boomed. Veering to avoid an oak, he spotted a thicket and without hesitation dived in, holding the bow at his side so it wouldn’t become entangled. He went several steps and crouched.

“You’re as dumb as a stump, boy.”

Dega peered through the interwoven limbs and leaves. He hadn’t moved fast enough. The white man was at the thicket, both guns leveled.

“Not that you’ll live long enough for it to do you any good, but here’s some advice. Never talk when you should kill. Never let yourself be distracted. Now come on out with your hands empty and I might let you live a bit.”