Bill Redwood had been the sheriff of flint for 2 decades. As the firstborn son of a farmer, he had seen the town from every harvest, as he and his dad rode in from the countryside to sell their produce. His father would always say that
“Compared to the strenuous work required to maintain a farm, the city life was carefree place”
Even so, Bill had always thought it a special occasion when they visited what seemed like the center of the world for a country boy like him.
He remembered the exact day he wanted to become a man of the law. The former Sheriff had ridden past his fathers stall, a criminal tied on the back of his horse. He was a local trouble maker who had stolen animals from their land and many others. Like any other kid he was awestruck, but never in his lifetime did he expect the sheriff to glance at him and smile. Those eyes, Bill had chased those proud eyes ever since.
Snapping back to the present, Bill scanned the crowd of opposing figures, 7 in total. Six of them were not his. A bad hand, even for the worst jack player.
Milk continued hastily galloping towards the clustered men. As they neared, Bill punched the chamber of his revolver out, inserting 6 rounds into the empty holes. Six rounds for six men. The sounds of hooves could be heard as 2 horses came galloping on both his sides. It was Trevor and Michael. Each had rifles strapped on their backs. Without saying a word the trio sped up their horses, as the sun shone down.
"I've told you several times you are not entering our town" a man drained in sweat wearing a large hat spoke, his hand hovering above his holster. The lit cigarette in his mouth dangled with each word, as his eyes were focused at the six armed men in front of him.
Any man knew the odds were not in his favor, as a matter of fact, all it took was one of these bastards getting triggerhappy for him to be filled with more than six rounds. God be damned if he didnt take at least one of the six fucks along with him.
John tensed his body preparing for the worst. Usually crooks like these always had somthing to say, acting smart and all that. However these men were silent, observant, not amateurs. His fifteen years of experience as a law man were the only thing fighting the voices that told him to run for his life.
As he was preparing to yell again one of the six men stepped forward.
"About damn time" he said, in a coarse raspy voice
Just as John was about to ask, the sounds of hooves cut through the tense air.
"You alright ?" Bill yelled, exorcising the voices in his head. The old comrades presence filled him with confidence.
"Doing just fine Sheriff"
The three men dismounted as they Each locked their weapons towards the opposing crowd.
"Bill Redwood" a lanky and hollow cheeked man said with a coarse and raspy voice, taking a few steps towards their group as his men kept their distance.
"So this is the esteemed white rider of Flint?” he said chuckling.
The man looked back at his crew and stopped laughing. " He doesn't seem like a lot to me, isn't that right boys?!''
Grunts could be heard accompanied by the sounds of several men spitting. The lanky man then turned back towards Bill revealing a stone cold face devoid of emotion.
"A lot of men want to see you dead, white horseman"
Bill spat on the ground " Many have tried, but you know what? " he said as the whites on both sides of his irises showed.
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" They all lay 6 feet under"
A chuckle could be heard coming from John “ I should know, cause i dug the graves for the sons of bitches”
Silence ensued as all the men present instinctively slowly hovered their fingers near their holsters and triggers. The howling of the wind could be heard as no one made a sound. The standoff had begun, and once someone drew, blood would be spilled. The opposing parties eyed each other, looking for a single sign of weakness. Having a stoic face could be what determined who lived and who died.
Suddenly a shot came from above as one of the six men dropped dead. Bill and his three deputies opened fire, not having the time to discern where the shot had come from. The older man tapped his revolver, dropping another of the scum. He heard a groan come from behind him as John dropped onto the ground, he had been hit. Michael, Bill and Trevor all nodded towards each other as they each sprinted in different directions, a tactic they had drilled if they were ro be outnumbered.
Another volley of bullets came their way as the remaining four men shot at them furiously. Bill reloaded his rifle, crouching as he stared at the four men. He quickly looked back seeing John laying in a pool of his own blood.
“Dammit” he barked
Three large bangs filled the air, as another 2 of the goons fell to the dirt floor.
The lanky man was visibly scared
" Damn you white horseman!" he shouted, aiming his revolver towards Bill.
But it was to late. Bill and Michael both had their revolvers locked at them. In unison the pair fired, causing two thumps to be heard as the lanky man and his last goon fell like bags of meat to the ground.
Bill quickly looked up to see a man from a rooftop 20 meters away. “ I'll be damned” he mouthed, eyes wide open before running towards John. “ Michael see if the buckeyes still breathe” “Matthew take my horse and go get Doc! ” Bill barked as he assessed the wound on John
Bot the men ran as they followed the
Seeing the pool of blood that had formed, Bill quickly ripped a piece of his flannel shirt off. Pulling out his knife he carefully but hastily cut off John's bloodstained Shirt, revealing the entry wound. It had gone through the liver.
“Dammit “
Seeing the blood gushing out he momentarily froze, before shaking his head and putting the ripped piece of flannel over the wound. The cloth quickly turned red as the blood continued to pour.
John groaned as his pale face mumbled something unintelligible.
“ Their boss is still breathing” Michael shouted, interrupting Bills trail of thought
“ Should I kill him?”
“ He's my trophy” A voice Bill recognized, shouted, as Joe emerged into the open landscape, holding a 1873. “ My payment for saving your necks”
“ Stay back!” Michael screamed “ take one more step and Il-”
“Stay down Michael, he's on our side “ Bill sighed “ Besides, we were practically sitting ducks, he could have smoked us all anytime he had wished”
Michael rested his arm, teeth clenching. “ Fuck”
Joe walked towards the 2 men. “ I'm sorry Bill, but your friend there got as much of a chance of making it as a donkey racing a horse”
Bill pressed his eyes, knowing very well that John had no chance of making it. Flint's doctor lived too far for him to arrive in good time. That and the fact that he would have to do an operation in the searing sun, as they couldn't risk moving John
“ I know the chances are slim, but I’ll be damned if i don't try” Bill yelled, spit flying out his mouth
He looked down at John. He was sickly pale. Quickly he reached for his neck. Nothing. No pulse.
"John stay with me god dammit! Think of your wife and son!" Bill screamed before he started doing compressions, somthing his father had taught him.
Tears flowed as he continued to press his chest, trying to resist the realization that one of his closest friends had died.
" FUCK!" his voice cracked as he suddenly stood up and walked away, face in between both his hands.
Joe sighed slightly as he continued towards the leader of the scourge, walking past Michael who already had begun running towards Bill.
Stopping directly above the hollowed cheeked man. He stared into his tired eyes
" William the rattlesnake O'Connor" He said somberly
"A bounty of 100 Dollars on your head"
Suddenly the lanky man's eyes shot wide open
" R-reaper" his voice quivered in fear , as if laying before the manifestation of death.
" Get away from me!" he cried, as he tried to crawl away from Joe.
Joe sighed
How the mighty always fall
The burly man scowled before stomping onto the man's back, causing a large crack to erupt from within.
"Arrrrgh! " The Lanky man yelled, as he stopped moving
“ You don’t have to do this Reaper I-I got a stash back home, just let me go and I’ll tell you where-”
“ Pathetic” Joe said, eying the shaking man “ Die with some dignity will ya”
Then in one swift motion he flicked his revolver out of its holster. A loud bang could be heard as a bullet went through his chest. He hated the fact that he couldn't shoot him in the head but he needed his ugly mug to get his bounty. Joe supposed it was hard to identify a man with half his face blown off.
The lanky man looked petrified as he coughed up blood
“ Im sorry Jason.”Joe heard him mumbling before his eyes shot permanently
Hogtying the corpse of the lanky man, he dragged the rope away as he whistled loudly into the air.
Far away a trail of dust could be seen forming as a black steed galloped through the hot dirt ground. " come here samson" he clicked with his tongue, as the horse began coming closer.
A smirk could be seen forming on Joe's lips as the horse arrived before him " good boy" he called out, in tone a lot softer than before.
Putting the trophy on the back of his horse, Joe climbed the saddle, whipping the reins as Samson began galloping.
“ Another day, another dollar”