Her breathing smoothed to a low rattle, her heart an occasional thump. Yolanda opened the bottle with a quick twisting-yank. She stared at the man as she lifted the beer and downed three good swallows.
Something held her attention, something
familiar yet imprecise.
She backed up to the rocker and sat down. She looked behind her, saw the rifle within reach. She had an uneasy feeling that the gun would be of no use.
