CHAPTER 4 - I'M THE BEST SHOT IN TOWN
Another miss.
“Try holding still, idiot. You might be able to hit it, then.” Bob chuckled at his own insult.
“You sound real chipper making fun of the guy that saved you,” I said, not even giving him a glance.
“Oh please. James would’ve got us out eventually.”
“Yeah, right after the whole place crumbled down on ya. Plus, I heard you didn’t even realize you had the cell key on you till you rolled on the ground crying, wuss.”
“Whatever, William,” Bob said, getting up and leaving.
Good.
I worked better alone.
Well, maybe not alone. Just not with Bob. That fat idiot can’t do anything right, except get me in trouble.
Just focus on the bottles, William.
Ignore everything else around you. It’s just you and the bottles.
You and the bottles.
The bottles.
The glass, empty bottles that looked like they wanted to be broken.
Give’em what they want, William. That’s what you do. You shoot stuff and hit’em.
You never miss… except for earlier. You never miss starting now.
The revolver in my left hand swayed uncontrollably. Even with my right hand underneath it for support, the front sight wouldn’t stay on the empty bottles lined up on the fence.
Just calm down.
I fired.
And I missed… again.
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“You still doing this?” Jane walked by. “You know my customers inside are wondering why gunshots keep sounding off from behind the saloon every couple of minutes.”
“What do you tell’em?”
“Just to focus on drinking, instead.” She hopped and sat down on a barrel. “So, by the looks of it, you seem to haven’t hit anything but my fence.”
“Yep,” I said, still focused on the bottles.
“Which is pretty impressive with how close the bottles are to each other.”
“Yep,” I said, giving her a side-eye this time.
She smiled. “I’m just teasin’.”
I shook my head. “You’re lucky you’re cuter than Bob.”
“Of course, I’m cuter than Bob.”
Things went quiet as I concentrated on the bottles. My left hand tightened up on the six-shooter’s grip. It felt like my veins were going to explode with how hard I was holding.
On the other hand, literally, my right hand barely felt attached to my wrist. It didn’t even feel like it was helping when I had it holding my left hand from below.
It felt like nothing.
Like a dead man’s hand, stiffened and unfeeling.
My left hand would have to carry me all the way to success.
I pulled back on my finger and initiated a shot. A bullet flew through the air and just barely hit the top of a bottle, shattering it into shards.
“Finally. It felt like you were standing there for three days,” Jane said.
I turned to her with a smile. “I still got it.”
“Yeah, sure you do. You’ll do real good if the guy you’re shooting at stands still for an hour.”
“What a downer you are.”
She hopped off her barrel and walked up to me. Putting a hand on my shoulder, she said, “I just don’t want you to go into a dangerous situation with unrealistic expectations, is all. I want you to stay safe.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, shrugging her hand off my shoulder. “I got this. I’ll be back in my prime in a few days. Count on it.”
She smiled, but it didn’t feel as full as before. “Sure.”
Leaving the saloon, I spotted James rushing off and Bob lagging behind. Stopping Bob, I asked, “What’s happening?”
“Another bank robbery at Jim’s.”
“Again? We just had one a week ago.”
“Yeah, well, I guess Jim’s just has crappy security.”
“Bob, you realize we are the security right?”
“Oh.”
“Whatever let’s go,” I said.
I took a few steps before I realized Bob wasn’t following. I turned back and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Well, about that, William. James told me not to let you come.”
“Why?”
“Your hand, idiot. You can’t even hit a bottle standing still.”
“I just hit one earlier!”
Bob looked left and right, paranoid as if James, himself, was going to pop out the ground and pull’em down for disobeying. “Fine, let’s go. But if James gets mad, this is on you!”
Fine by me.
I’m the best shot in town.