Mint calmed her breathing, feeling the slight heat of the muzzle against her temple. She raised her hands slowly, knowing that one blow from the shotgun would end it all.
"I'm not going to fight," she said. "I still want an open casket to brag that even in death, I look good."
The person beside her didn't respond or entertain her remarks. Instead, he reached out to grab the strap of her rifle.
"Move, and I'll blow your head off," the man warned, yanking the strap up to her head. He then shouted, "I found her!"
Mint didn't take her chances right now. She kept still, letting the man disarm her. The strap went from her torso to her head, then down to her shoulder and arm. She didn't move an inch, her eyes locked on her arm.
She kept her gaze fixed there until she felt the shotgun on her forehead loosen slightly.
