For: Her own saddistic pleasure
disclaimer: I do not own Appaloosa, neither do i own Viggo Mortenson, regardless that i really want to.
a/n: this takes place in my own twisted rendition of Blue-Eyed Devil. i'm not exactly sure where my book is snuggled in, but somewhere.
The men walked right up and shot me.
I heard the creak of the saloon door on its hinges. I was at the bar drinking whiskey with Willis, the bartender. The door opened. I half turned to see the new arrivals, should they be any trouble. From my shot glass I saw the quick reflection of a man with a gun. Willis went pale as death.
My hand was on the eight gauge leaning on the bar next to me. I never got to pull it. The bullet busted through my right side and tossed me against the bar like a ragdoll. The man got me with a Winchester, and boy, did my body know it.
My hat fell back and off. I was coughing up blood in a couple minutes.
I faced my attacker. I'm not sure if I was surprised that it was Callico, that blasted back-shooter. He had six men backing him. Where did that gusto come from?
"Callico," I choked.
"Everett." He said.
"Like an explanation I think." I said.
"You ain't gettin' one."
He nodded to his boys. As a crowed they came down on me with their colts and Winchesters. Half dead already, I didn't stand much of a chance against them. I was thrown against the bar, then dropped to the floor. One came at my head.
Willis stopped shouting.
Tilda ran out the door for Virgil.
Chapter 2 should be up soon