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Western Story

“Ya got any last words John?” The Sheriff asked holding the barrel of a rifle in between his eyes. He was in the middle of nowhere, nothing but the mountains watching in anticipation and the vultures waiting for their next meal. He looked around, it was actually quite beautiful, the sky was blue, just like the color of Betty’s eyes.
“You’re no man.” John lifted his head and spat on the Marshall’s left cheek. Without hesitation he pulled the trigger letting out the nine millimeter bullet. But before it made contact, time had stopped, and he had remembered.
“John Mitchel!” Butch yelled over the noise of the saloon, “Oh boy, I hadn’t sheen you in a ahellofa long time.” His breath reeked of alcohol.
“How are ya Butch?”
“Oh I’m fine. But the wife kicked me out my own house, can you believe dat.” He gave a drunken laugh and stumbled into a waitress to get a hard right hand to the face. “Come one baby don’t be like dat.” He laughed and ordered another shot. John left the saloon before he could notice. The full moon shimmered a pale light on Dead Man’s Gulch.
Howls of laughter came from behind a building along with the muffled screams of a woman. John turned around the corner to see three deputies holding a waitress from the saloon.
“Now look here, you just go on ahead and go back where you came from, you didn’t see nothin’.” One of them said. “Boy are you deaf? I said get out of-.” A bullet found its way to his right thigh. He fell to the floor instantly, screaming in pain. While the others struggled to pull their pistol out of their holster, John had his two revolvers aimed at the two men. They had the engravings “Mitchell” and “Bandits” on the side.
“Get out of my town.” John said, motioning the woman on the floor to get behind him. “And if I so much as catch a glimpse of any of y'all, I’ll make sure that the bullet goes through your damn head!”
“Why are you trying to save a w****!?” Barked the deputy with the bullet in his leg, he got another in his arm.
“Leave!” John snarled. The two uninjured deputies retreated with their friend on their shoulders and vanished behind another building.
“Are you alright ma’am?” He asked. She was still a little shaken up and didn’t answer. “Where do you live?”
“By the jail.” She said looking down.
“Then it looks like you’re staying with me and the wife tonight.” He unhitched his horse, and rode off into the night with the frightened woman. The galloping of John's horse on the hard packed earth soothed her, and she felt a bit safer with him.
Soon they arrived to John’s ranch, it was beautiful. The house was lit up by candles and Betty was on the front porch with a lantern in hand.
“John I was worried.” She said as he helped the woman off of the horse. Her tone changed instantly as she caught eye of the woman “Who the hell is this?”
“Betty calm down, this girl was in the middle of a fuss with some deputies down by Dead Man’s. I just helped her out is all.” Betty’s face loosened a bit and she apologized to her. They walked inside and had supper trying to keep the woman’s mind off of what happened. Something was on John’s mind that troubled him, but he let it pass.
“What did I tell you,” The Sheriff was scolding the three deputies. “Don’t be wearing your uniforms if you’re gonna’ do somethin’ stupid!” He took a long breath and fixed his vest, “It’s alright though, because now we can go get John Mitchell for killing a deputy. Once he and his gang are gone this town is ours.” The injured deputy had a puzzled expression on his face.
“But, he only shot me in the leg and-” The Sheriff fired off his pistol painting the wall and chair he sat in a crimson red. The Sherriff looked down at what he did with no remorse on his face. “We ride at dawn!”



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WSwilliams said...
Mar. 21, 2012 at 3:55 pm:
Nice Western story. Even though it is a short story, try describing the town a little bit. Was it a hot day? Was it in the desert? I also liked the western lingo you used and the portrayal of a bandit who was a hero for the woman. Good job! 
 
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