"I like your boots..."
I turn slowly. The man, is old, unshaven and leaning on a stick, but his eyes hold mine with hunger.
"Thank you," I reply.
"If you die, can I have them?"
I look around. We're alone on the forest road, but the birds are hushed, the moment before surprise. My hand, frees the pistol. I cock the hammer and take aim.
"I don't plan to die soon," I say.
Noise and pain in my head. I'm on the ground. The old man hasn't moved.
"No-one plans to die," he says and spits. "Get him girls."