Monoceros, Ptolemy Cluster
by Steven W. Johnson
I try to keep pressure on the bullet wound but blood still leaks out between my fingers. It’s a deep red against my green scales. I don’t know if I hit that damn bug, Renny. But he hit me. It’s been quiet for a minute or two, or ten. I think I’m in shock; staring first at my blood, then my badge, then my blood. The sun’s starting to get low in the sky, casting long shadows in the rocky canyon. My thoughts drift.