Hear Catherine stop, and a glance shows she's aimin. Make sure I'm well clear, an then there's the crack of the rifle, smell of powder an the witch goes down. Hopin' she ain't dead - we ain't murderers. Could come to anythin later, but shootin a woman in the back don't sit right with me.

Catch up to her an get my pistol trained on her again. "Don't you move," I tell her.