The ride

Marshal Hawks and I saddled up our steeds and rode towards the edge of town. A man wearing a derby and spectacles ran up to us from one of the wood buildings.

“You’re going to get Jango James, Marshal?” he asked.

“That’s right, Mayor Johnson,” the old lawman answered. “We’ll handle the desperadoes, you just stay here with the women and children.

The mayor harrumphed angrily at the comment but didn’t offer any criticism or help.

“Wait! Joey!” I heard a woman’s voice call out. I looked and saw a young boy running up to us.

“What’s your name, mister?” the boy asked, walking along next to our steeds.

“My name is Jon, son,” I answered. “I’m a lawman.”

“Wow,” Joey’s eyes grew wide. “You gonna kill a lot of bad guys with your gun?”

“If I have to,” I answered. “That’s not what I want to do, though.”

“It must be cool to kill bad guys with your gun, huh mister?”

“Killing is never cool,” I looked at him, then squinted towards the distant desert.

“When I get older, I’m gonna have a gun and I’m gonna be big and brave, too!”

“A gun is a tool, Joey,” I replied “No better or no worse than any other tool, an axe, a shovel or anything. A gun is as good or as bad as the man using it. Remember that.”

“Now Joey,” Marshal Hawks interrupted. “You should be gettin’ back to your mother.”

“Awww,” Joey shoved his hands in his pockets, kicked the dirt, then ran back to his mother.

“Kids,” I chuckled.

“It’s tough growin’ up in a rough place like this,” Hawks said. “He’s so desperate to be an adult that he’s gonna miss all the best things of bein’ a kid… fishin’ at the waterin’ hole, swimmin’ at the fishin’ hole, runnin’ around with a hoop and a stick…”

“A place like this is tough on a kid,” I agreed. “Tough on grownups, too.”

“You got that,” Hawks said, almost absently.

We rode for a couple hours in silence. I was thinking about my solemn duty that layed ahead and I imagine the Marshal was having similar thoughts.

As we rode, the terrain grew from the flat, dusty trail to a rocky incline. Soon, we were walking along the side of a mesa with a gentle slope sliding down into a river below.

“The mountains sure are pretty,” I said. The orange sunset produced giant streaks of waning golden light across the sky.

“Pretty dangerous,” Marshal Hawks replied.

Shots rang out and I saw Hawks fly off his horse and tumble down the hillside into the river. I pulled out my pistols but a sharp pain pierced my left shoulder.

“Ha ha ha, I told you that you ain’t seen the last of me, dog!” I heard Lobo’s voice as I tumbled off my own ride.

“Lookit this!” came his companion’s voice. “He’s got a badge.”

I looked up through the haze and saw Lobo stroll up to me. My vision grew dimmer as he pointed his gun at my face.

“Guess I’m gonna shoot me another law dog,” Lobo said with a malicious grin.

I heard the shot ring out and things went black.