Part 4
Kirwin was quiet, half‑empty. The sheriff approached us.
“What brings you two here?”
I asked about the men. Will added their descriptions.
“They just left town,” the sheriff said.
We mounted up and followed their trail. Eventually, we spotted them. They recognized Will instantly and opened fire.
We dodged bullets, returned fire, and chased them across the plains until we cut them off.
The dark‑haired one spat. “What do you want, vermin?”
Will stepped forward. “Answers.”
The blonde dismounted. “What answers?”
“You killed my family,” Will growled. “Stole from me. Why?”
They laughed. “Because we felt like it. And you two ain’t sayin’ a word about our crimes.”
A shootout was inevitable.
They counted backward from five. Dust exploded. Gunfire cracked.
When the dust settled, the blonde lay dead. Will was wounded but standing. The dark‑haired partner raised his revolver at me.
Before he could fire, I moved behind him and shot him twice.
He dropped.
Will stared at me. “Didn’t think you’d pull through. Thank you.”
We searched their saddle bags, recovered what they’d stolen, packed it away, and rode off.