Sharpshooter

Sharpshooter

The sun was high about mid-afternoon, and my back was starting to hurt because of the long ride on my horse. It's hard trying to find someplace new. Just over the horizon, I see a tall church and a water tower. I hope this town is better than the last. I ride into town. It's small and not really what I'm used to but it´ll do fine. Everything in this town is on one big dirt road: a church, jail, general store, and a saloon. The saloon looks rundown yet lively, there’s music and people yelling just my kind of place. I push open the door and I’m hit with the stench of smoke and hard liquor. Poker tables line the walls where guys are lining up to play. Every table is full and flipped tables and chairs block the path to the bar. I maneuver around the overturned tables and chairs to the bar, it’s cleaner than I expected it to be in a shaggy place like this. I ring the bell and an older gentleman comes limping out of the back. He has a thick white mustache and a bald spot on his head.

“What can I get you, sir?” He asks I look up at the wall with all the liquor.

“I’ll take some whiskey,” I say

“Coming right up.” He ducks under the counter and grabs a glass and starts to fill it.

“Oh I meant the bottle, I’ll take the bottle,” I say. He seemed a little surprised but he handed it over.

“Do you by any chance know where I could get a room”

“Why absolutely, we have rooms upstairs you can get room 5,” He says, “Upstairs straight down the hall.”

I take the whiskey bottle and head up the stairs. I wobble down the hall and open the door. It smells like smoke, it’s a small room with a bed in the corner, a coat rack, and a side table by the bed. I walk over to the coat rack and take off my hat and gun belt, I walk over to the bed and jump on the mattress, it molded to my back and it feels great on my back I begin to shut my eyes. I awake to the sound of gunfire outside. I hop out of bed it’s now dark and I can’t see a thing anymore. I feel for the wall and follow it to the coat rack. I grab my gun belt and put it on. I look out the window, the road illuminated by the midnight sky and the flash of burning gunpowder. I head for the door and as I’m about to turn the handle I hear voices outside the door. I put my back against the wall next to the door jam waiting, a shot goes off and the door flies open. Two men run into the room which is now being lit up by the hall light. Both men are built one taller than the other. I draw my revolver and walk in front of the door.

“Okay, fellas what’re we doing in my room,” I yell

“Well well, why don’t you just scram,” the taller guy said with a little fear in his voice, their facial features looked almost identical like brothers.

“You trying to rob me?” I ask.

“Course we are, why do you think we’re here,” they say, “I wouldn’t mess with us boy, we're in the Goodman gang.”

“That supposed to mean something to me?” I reply I ain’t too sure what the Goodman gang is but they can’t be that good if I caught them breaking into my room.

“It will in a minute boy,” the small guy says, “We are gonna kill you.”

“If you were gonna do that you would’ve already done it,” I say, I reach for my gun and unclip it from my belt hoping to scare them off before I have to use it.

“Fellas I suggest y’all leave now,” I say.

“How about no!” they yell.

The Taller guy charges at me. I draw my gun and shoot him twice he falls to the floor with a thud my ears start to ring. I feel a large force tackle me and when I open my eyes I see the short guy standing over me with a knife in his hands.

“Shouldn’t have done that” he says.

He brings his arm up ready to stab me, I kick his leg out from under him and he loses his balance falling and dropping the knife. I stand up and grab the knife from the floor and throw it down the hall. I turn around and see him in the corner of the room holding the coat rack. I grab the small lamp on the side table.

“We gonna do this or are you gonna sit in the corner all day” I yell.

He runs at me with the coat rack but trips over his buddy in the middle of the room. He lands on the coat rack and winces in pain. I bring up the lamp over my head and smash it across his stomach. Broken glass goes everywhere. I turn to the bed and grab the sheets where I tie him up. I limp out the door and down the hall to find help, at the bottom of the stairs I look where the bartender is and see his lifeless body draped over the bar.

“Damn, that was a nice guy,” I say to myself.

“Yeah, he was,” a voice says. I look over to the far wall and see a man sitting at the poker table with his hat just over his eyes. He groans as he gets up from the table. He's tall and older, probably in his 40’s with a black suit, hat, and gold badge.

“Sheriff,” I ask,

“Yeah that’s me, Sheriff Mitchell,” He says, “You new around here.”

“Yeah and I don’t mean no trouble or nothing but there's a few guys upstairs for you.”

“They dead?”

“One is for sure the other was still breathing,” I say, “ Who were those guys anyway they said the Goodman gang?”

“They’re the gang that thinks they own this town”

“What are they after I ask,” I say

“Ever since we killed their gang leader a few months back during a raid they have terrorized the city,” He says.

“I need a job,” I say, “You need help protecting these folk I’m your guy”

“Okay you start tomorrow,” he says.

We shake hands and he walks out of the saloon, I turn to head back up to my room, I open the door and see the mess I’ve made. The room is completely trashed, the lamp and the coat rack are still laid out on the floor, a pool of blood formed where the tall guy lay, and the short man groaned. I shut the door and head back downstairs. I walk towards the bar and take a bottle of whiskey off the shelf. I see some apples under the counter too so I grab those and put them in my pack. I walk outside the saloon doors and go around back where I greet my horse. I pull out the apples and give them to him. I found a pile of hay to crash for the night, I popped open the bottle and started to drink myself to sleep.

I wake up to a horse's face against mine startled. I jumped out of the haystack prepared to fight.

“Woah pal settle down,” he said, “you wanna help me with the Goodman gang well lets go”

He throws a rifle into the hay bale. I pick it up and sling it over my shoulder.

“Where are we headed” I ask

“Well since you were late getting up they’re gonna be here any minute,” He replies, “I need you on the top of the saloon.”

Without hesitation, I turned to the rusty ladder that led up to the roof and started to climb. There wasn’t much on the top of the roof other than the slight cover the sign gave. I peeked over to see the sheriff sitting on a rocking chair near the General store. I hear the sound of horses coming in fast and sure enough to the south of the town, there are 7 men on horseback riding into town. I see them hitch their horses at the General store. All of them get off and approach the sheriff. They start to yell but I can’t make anything out. I watch as the sheriff goes into the General store. Suddenly a shot rings out and one drops on the porch of the store. All the gangsters open fire on the general store. I unload my rifle in their direction. I can sense the fear as they get on their horses and run. I get up running towards the ladder and I slide down as quickly as I can. I sprint across the road, my heart still pounding with adrenaline. I stop at the porch staring at the door now riddled with bullet holes. I swing open the door to see the sheriff lying on the floor.

“Sheriff where are you hurt,” I say blood pooling around his body he lets out a groan and I kneel beside him.

“You’re going to be ok,” I say.

He takes the badge off his shirt and hands it to me with his final breath he says, “Go get em”

Right then I was given a purpose to find the people who put him through this, I will find them and I will kill them.