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They say your life flashes before your eyes before you're about to die. I could see flashes of my young life play in front of me as my horse galloped through the forest, knowing her own way and jumping over the logs, stumps and rocks that jutted from the dirt under her hooves. I could hear the whoosh of my blood pumping through my veins and the clap of her hooves as they hit the ground, almost making a rhythm.

My pistol hit my hip in its holster with my mare's every movement as she ran and my long hair was flying behind me like the tail of a comet. I stood on the saddle and leaned forward, posting, so as to not feel the brunt of the impact of her escape. I could hear my heavy breathing join in the noise of her hooves and my pulse. Too soon I heard the sound of hooves behind me. I was scared to push Storm harder but kicked her into a little more momentum. I quickly patted her mane in apology and I heard her give a quick snort as if to say 'apology accepted'.

I heard the men's voices behind me and chanced a glance. They weren't too close but they weren't as far as I wished either; they were a few turns behind, still in slight view through the trees and brush.

Storm did her best to run faster but came across a small incline, barely noticeable. Her hoof slipped on the edge and we fell sideways. She kicked and righted herself but three more horses joined us too quickly. One of the riders grabbed her reins. She whinnied in anxiety and I tried to crawl up to comfort her.

"Oh, no you don't 'lil lady." Another rider said in a thick Southern drawl.

I looked up into harsh steel gray eyes and the barrel of a Magnum. The cock of the gun seemed to be the loudest noise in the forest and it rang in my ears as if the gun had already been fired. I kept my eyes focused on that large hand and the pistol and gulped.