He heard Molly drinking from a water bottle behind him, and was glad his father was actually somewhat taking care of her. He was pushed down the path, and every few minutes was reminded not to try anything by a sharp jab with his own gun. They walked for a long time, enough time that Mal could feel his fingers go numb and could barely see from the amount of mist rising from his own breath. After what he assumed to be miles, Maxwell said "Stop". Mal, not having much choice, did as he was told. "Molly, go refill your water bottle at the stream. It's a little ways to the right."
Mal couldn't see her, but knew she was narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "No, I know you're gonna kill him as soon as I leave."
Maxwell did not move, but said in fury. "You dare disobey your father? It's time you learned some respect." It all happened in a rush. Maxwell turned to hit Molly, and Mal used this split second to make his move. He had been working as they were walking on freeing his bindings, and had been waiting to rip the last thread. He did so, and wiped around to punch Maxwell. His fist made contact with the side of his head, and he wiped around and smacked Mal with his gun, drawing blood on Mal's temple and he fell back, landing on his hands. Maxwell raised his gun to shoot Mal. Molly was to close, and saw why was about to happen. She ran in front of Her father, trying to push the gun away so Mal wouldn't be shot if it went off. Her and her father grappled for a moment, and Mal got up to help her. But it was to late. The gun went off when Molly tried to grab it and ended up pushing the trigger into her fathers finger. It went off, and Molly was in the way. It pierced straight through her chest, dying her pink shirt crimson. She fell like a bird with broken wings, crumpling to he ground. Her father looked down at her with wild eyes, horrified at what he'd just done. He looked at Mal briefly, before taking the gun and shooting himself in the head before Mal could even react. He crumpled on top of his daughter, and Mal couldn't do anything but run to to Molly's side, to push her father off of her. To pick up her little crumpled body, curled up like a wounded animal. To feel at her neck. To realize, she was not yet lost. He heart still beat.