John sat behind the wall of the crumbling saloon hearing bullets whiz past like tiny rockets.  Rodney sat next to him clutching his left side where he had been shot just minutes before.  On the other side of the smoldering building, Andrew Morris,also known as Crazy Killer Kane, was leaning against an overturned wagon with his acquaintance who was returning fire to the now injured sheriff deputies across the dusty road.  John wondered how he even got into this mess and how he would get them back to safety.

     It was just your average 1896 summer in Texas.  Barren sun beating down, a slight breeze ruffling the shriveled plants poking through the dust caked ground, and little rain in sight anywhere you could see.  John Denif sat at the front of his small town sheriff`s office and looked over the local people as they meandered around in the dry heat of the afternoon.  Even for a small rural town, Chipsdale was even slower than usual.  People now days were tired from trying to sleep in their hot bedrooms at night.  As John started to drift off, a hand on his shoulder awakened him.

     “Jeeze Rodney, ya` bout gave me a heartattack.”  Rodney was the other town deputy along-side John.  On days like today when the marshall was out of town, they were in charge.

     “I jus` reckon we oughta find somthin ta do sides` sittin round here all day that`s all.” said Rodney.  John decided to get up and saddle his mare Jen.  As he approached her, she greeted him with a little whinny and a shake of her head.  He lead her to the stable behind the station and rubbed her down real good.  After that he made sure that she had plenty to drink before they took off.  As he was leading her back around, he heard approaching footsteps.

     “John, John!” exclaimed a female voice from around the bend.  As he looked a little further he realized it was Andria, the girl who ran the general store next to the bank.

     “John, it`s real bad over there.  People is a hollerin` and screamin` and they got guns.  They're tryin` ta take the money from the bank!”  About the time he comprehended what she said, an enormous tremor shook the ground so hard it made Jen rear up and snort in the air.  He grasped on to her reins until she calmed down and then saddled her up.  He then went around to where Rodney was saddling up his own horse and without a word they rode off together towards the center of town.  They approached the general store through a side alley instead of the main road.  They made their way across the road to the little saloon as fast as their legs could carry them.  Across the way he heard shouting from the bank.  John decided now was the time to act upon the situation.
     “Rodney, stay here an` watch ma back while a getta look at the men who are holdin` up our town.”  And with a quick head nod, and a puff of his chest, John walked out onto the dusty sunny road.  From across the way, a tall, dark, slender man of about thirty strutted out of the bank holding a large bag over his shoulder.  He looked straight at John with his crooked glare, due to the jagged scar across his left eye, and smiled a jagged yellow toothed smile.
     “Hello deputy, It appears we have ourselves a misunderstandin`,” John looked at him real hard for a minute as if trying to figure out what to say.
     “The only thin` I need ta understand is that ya are terrorizin` these here good folks an takin` our hard earned money,” John spat back with a look of disgust on his face.  The tall man let out a deep roar that was so loud it shook the good heavens above.  Like clockwork, a woman came walking out of the bank with a similar style bag strung over her shoulder.  The smile she shot John made shivers run down his back.  It was just a smile of someone that killed for fun.
“I thin` we have talked enough deputy, mos people that waste ma time end up six feet under or wishing` they were.”  As he said this, he withdrew his revolver and pointed it at Him before John could even reach for his.
     “Now I reckon` that ya are a man of the law ya make sensible decisions, so I thin` I will say ma good pardons and be on ma way while ya go back in that there saloon.”  John had no choice but to comply if he wanted to live. This was just a delay in his plan, it`s not like he was going to let them get away.  They would be hanging from rope before long, he thought as he walked back towards the saloon     Once inside, he gave Rodney the universal sign to fire.  He drew his pistol and pointed it through the crack between two swinging doors.  He pulled the trigger and the bullet lodged into the back of the man`s leg.  Before he could get a shot at the woman, her gun was blazing bullets at them and the window Rodney was at erupted in a shower of glass and an agonizing scream.  Rodney lay in his back against the wall clutching his left side where a red stain was blossoming under his hands.
     John was full of rage and pulled his gun again and started spitting bullets back at them.  When he pulled away to reload, he heard a thunk and heard a hissing noise.  He peeked through the crack to see an all too familiar stick of dynamite laying right outside the door.  He tucked his pistol into his waistband and grabbed Rodney by his armpits. 

     Half dragging, half carrying, he quickly brought him through the back door and onto the ground as the all too familiar sound of dynamite exploding crackling through the air.  John draped his body over Rodney`s just as a plume of dust and debris erupted on top of them.  A large piece of wood struck John`s back with tremendous force, but that was better than Rodney enduring more pain.

     After he dragged Rodney to the corner of the building, he looked toward the empty street to see the tall man doing the same from behind an overturned wagon.  Only then did he remember the posters in nearly every town around the area.  This man was Andrew Morris, and had a warrant from the committee of Texas for being one of the most die-hard, bloodthirsty criminals in the Wild West. 

     This reality hit John like a fist to his stomach.  Not that this was one of the most feared villains in the state, but if he succeeded where no one else ever had, he could finally start his family ranch. The money they would pay for his body would be more than enough to start a ranch, and he could finally send his son up north for some proper education.

     As if struck by lightning, John felt like the best sharpshooter in the wild west at that moment.  He finished reloading and pointed the barrel of his gun where he could see the man`s foot sticking out from behind cover.  He inhaled, adjusted his aim, and ducked back as a bullet found its way into the timber meer inches above his head. 

     He had nearly forgot about the woman who just about had the best of his head.  He looked again and saw her throughout spent bullet casings which meant she was reloading.  He took this opportunity to shoot the man in the foot again.  The second shot met its target and he fell out of cover into the open.  He met John`s gaze for a fraction of a second before John shot him in the face.  Of course the deranged man died with a sick grin on his face.

     As if by surprise, the lady walked backwards away from the body of her partner and into the open.  With fire in her eyes, she turned towards John and raised her gun.  John didn`t have time to react and closed his eyes waiting for the impact.  He heard a shot ring out, but felt nothing.  He opened his eyes to see the woman collapse onto the ground and not move.  He looked back to see Rodney clutching his side and holding a smoking gun.

     “I thought it was time to repay the favor,” Rodney said with a little gasp as he sank to his knees and passed out.  John rushed him to the little town clinic where the doctor was able to remove the bullet and sew him up.  After a few days of unconsciousness, Rodney had regained color in his cheeks and finally awoke.

John had the bodies taken to the supreme Court of Texas for processing.  The money he received covered Rodney`s medical bill and left an equal amount for him to split with him also.  They were finally able to take down those posters and sleep peacefully in their beds even considering the heat.  Nobody ever messed with the Chipsdale sheriff`s office again.