face and long white hair that draped over the shoulders of her down vest. She couldn’t have been older than thirteen.
“Hi,” she said sweetly.
Sam slowly snuck the knife down the back of his pants.
“Hi,” Sam said.
“You want some food?” the girl asked. She pulled a granola bar out of her pocket.
His pulse quickened at the sight of the small pistol clutched in her other hand. He smiled.
“Actually, uh… you got any more of those guns?”