Green Desert - Chapter 1.3.3 - Bhanar

The old man shouted, “Vata,” which seemed like a name, but my eyes didn’t leave the blonde. She said she didn’t have a gun, but she could be lying. She probably was lying.

The woman walked towards me, hands still raised, but her oversized sweatshirt didn’t bare her midriff. “I’m sorry,” she called, coming closer. Trying to get within the handgun’s range.

“Stop!” She did. “Go away!” She didn’t. I wracked my brain for my Sarıman lessons. Goosebumps covered my arms.

“I only want to help.” She started forwards again.

My hands tensed. I almost shot her right then, but my finger was practically frozen stiff. “Stop!”

She did, chewing her lip, thirty yards away. Her arms started lowering. If she had a gun, she couldn’t be hiding it in those skin-tight pants, which meant. . .

“Remove your shirt.”

Her arms dropped slightly and she stared at me. “What?”

I enunciated. “Remove your shirt.” I remembered the word. “Your sweatshirt.”

She stood like a statue, head tilted a bit to the side.

“No gun under your sweatshirt?”

Realization dawned on her face, eyes big. Her hands dropped towards her waist.

“Slowly!” My trigger finger tingled.