Aces and Knaves

wasn't sure why, but my knees had hit hard enough to knock the wind out of me so the shock must have hurt something in my back.
    My knees were skinned but they seemed to work. Gradually, I rolled over and got to a kneeling position, gritting my teeth against the pain. I made it to my feet, but with every step pain washed through me. I knew approximately where the park headquarters was but I couldn't walk there, at least not in a reasonable length of time.
    I remembered Stan saying that he would come back and find my body. If he found me alive he would put me out of my misery. I had to hide. The jumble of rocks meant that there were plenty of hiding places. The trick was to find one that was comfortable enough so that I could stand it.
    I picked up my daypack, which had some water and granola bars in it, and hobbled a few yards away from the cliff to a cluster of boulders. I had to climb about ten feet, but I managed to work my way into the middle of them.
    A crack between two of the rocks faced toward the cliff, where both ends of the rope still hung from the outthrust rock, above. In my current state of pain I couldn't picture myself climbing up that cliff and I wondered how I had ever done it.
    I found a sitting position that was bearable. I leaned my back against a smooth rock. I drank some water and chewed on a granola bar and hoped that someone else would show up before Stan did.
    It became very quiet when I stopped moving, the kind of quiet unknown to a city, the kind that is scary to somebody used to constant noise. But it lulled me and I started to daydream, helped by the warmth of the afternoon sun. I must have fallen asleep.
    A noise startled me and I opened my eyes. Through the crack between the rocks I could see somebody moving, a little below me, near the face of the cliff. I blinked my eyes to focus them. It was Stan. He was looking up at the rope. Both ends were well above his reach. He couldn’t get to it unless he climbed partway up the rock. The rope might be used as evidence against him.
    He also had another problem. There was no body. That meant I was still alive and he had to find me before someone else did. The sun's rays slanted almost horizontally from the west. It would be dark soon. He needed to find me before dark. And I needed to get out of this mess before dark.
    Stan looked around. I didn't move. He shouldn't be able to see me because I was in shadow and the crack between the rocks in front of me wasn't very big. He walked a few steps to the side and disappeared from my view. I moved closer to the crack to increase my field of vision and spotted him, still looking around. I felt a lot better when I could see him. I had to keep him in sight.
    Without showing myself I called out, "Stan, here is the puzzle for today."
    I paused and he looked in my general direction. If I remained hidden he wouldn't know I was hurt and he would hesitate to approach me, especially since he had to climb uphill, out in the open, to do it.
    I continued, "If party A pays party B to kill party C, does that make party A a coward?"
    "I know where you are," Stan said, but he didn't move in my direction.
    He took off his backpack and pulled out a gun. I had been afraid of that.
    "You can't use a gun here," I said, partly to let him know I could see him.
    Stan continued to search with his eyes, but he didn't spot me. He walked slowly toward the base of my rocks. I couldn't let him get too close. I picked up a loose stone. I stood up quickly and lobbed it at him, almost screaming at the pain in my back.
    The stone bounced harmlessly a few feet from him, but he fired twice at where I had been. The shots reverberated off the cliff walls. Stan retreated several steps while I kept silent. Somebody would hear the shots and show up soon. I just had to wait him out.
    He must have realized that his time to shut me up was limited because he started toward my position again and reached the bottom of my rock pile. If he killed me he might be able to declare self-defense or even get away. I showed myself briefly and lobbed another rock at him, audibly grunting. It missed again. He fired at the air.
    Stan started to climb toward me, keeping his gun pointed in my direction. He was too close and too alert for me to show myself again. I had moved so I could only see his legs through the crack. If I couldn't see his eyes he couldn't see me. I hoped.
    But I had to do something fast. I stuck my hand out through the crack, waved it