Sprite looked down and a small switchblade stuck out of her side, the blade probably two inches deep. Her stomach turned; she got dizzy and light headed. Already Scotty had pulled himself off the ground away from her. She looked up, aimed her gun, her throat contracting, and put a bullet in Scotty’s leg.

He fell to the ground, screaming. Sprite looked down at her side again, the knife still there. She wanted to put her gun back in its holster, but she was afraid her arm would hit the knife. She stood there, swaying, not sure what to do.