One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 19, page 3
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Pí‘oro Kılímo stood up from where he’d been sitting against the wall of the cave. It was time to start moving again. The horses had cooled off.
A helicopter whirred in the distance. Pí‘oro paused, holding out his hand to shush the blonde girl before she said anything. The helicopter was getting closer.
“Helicopter,” he said while grabbing the reins of the horse furthest out in the open. She whinnied as he yanked her up the rocky slope to the back wall of the cave.
Fírí grabbed the other horse and tugged her out of sight, too. Unconscious Zhíno and the bags were already as far back as possible.
The helicopter grew louder, obviously heading for the spring. The trees were thick enough that the police wouldn’t be able to see into the cave from any angle, but if the police landed, Pí‘oro would be out of options. Should he try to make a break for it now? Pí‘oro glanced at his soul brother. He wouldn’t have enough time to secure him to a horse.
The helicopter paused overhead; his time was up.
“What do we do?” whispered Fírí, panic evident in her voice.
The cottonwoods flapped around in the helicopter’s downdraft. What are they doing up there?
An idea came to Pí‘oro, as good as any the goddess Sívorí would have. He rooted through the saddlebags till he found Zhíno’s pistol. He didn’t intend to shoot anybody, but the police wouldn’t know that. The police wouldn’t know that he and Fírí were working together, that she wasn’t his hostage.
“Load up the horses,” he ordered.
“What are you doing?” hissed Fírí as she stepped back, her eyes huge.
“Just load up the horses!”
Shoving the handgun in his pocket, Pí‘oro grabbed Zhíno and set him over the rump of his gray, tying his belt to the saddle straps. Fírí began tying the saddlebags to the roan.
Then the helicopter flew away, heading downstream.
Pí‘oro heaved a sigh, slumping back against the cool cave wall. Fírí stared at him, but Pí‘oro just rubbed his forehead. The next time the police came, he wouldn’t be so lucky.
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