Count Down to a Showdown

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Westerns  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young gunslinger learns that a drink and a mouth can get you in trouble or worst Dead.

I like westerns and read Novels by Louis l'Amorur and I wanted to keep a dying art alive. Now i am not a true writer but i like to tell stories so this is a small story that hit me one day at work.

Submitted: December 29, 2007

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Submitted: December 29, 2007



On the count of three, draw Mister!

At that moment I heard the bullet speed past the right side of my head and my hand dropped to my pistol and before he could pull the trigger for a second attempt I had my gun drawn and pointed at his head and I could see he was a bit surprised that he had missed.

“You missed stranger now get to your knees” I said with a bit of anger

“No, don’t shoot partner, my gun it’s jammed, I am unarmed!” I could see he was afraid to die but he was not afraid of me.  His gun was no more jammed then I was out of bullets but I had him dead to rights and knew it and he knew to keep a cool head.

“You best get up and get out of town before I fit you for a box, you understand me.”
The strange staggered to his feet and started to walk off.
 “Sure Mister, I’ll be on my way, but you ain’t seen the last of me.”

I kept a watchful eye on the stranger and never turning my back on a man that just tried to kill me... I watched him ride on until I saw nothing but the dust kicking up from his horse in the distance. But I know he will be back and the next time we meet one of us will be laid up at boot hill.

As I walked back across town I reflected back on the moments that lead up to this one. The Stranger was a gangly boy with red wild hair and an unshaven face. He was careless in his task to scout out the town and I could tell he was more interested in a fight then scouting. Yep being young will make you feel as though you know better than anyone else what’s best and he was set in his mind that they could take this town without any problems. The stranger was to scout the town so him and a crew of outlaws could come and rob the local bank. I saw the boy was in the saloon and he was jawing with one of the town old timers. The problem with young wild boys is they can’t handle a good drink and his mouth was running like a runaway steam train.
“Old timer ifen I were you I’d stay clear of the streets tomorrow. Yep I would sit right in here and keep to the bar.” The boy was wild eyed and half drunk but not so drunk to notice a man walk through the double swing doors of the saloon.
I walked up to the bar and the tender grabbed a bottle and a glass. He poured me a drink and set the bottle down. I looked through the mirror behind the bar and saw the stranger sitting with old Bill Jackson and he was just talking up a storm.
The bar tender saw me take a glance and walked back over and said I might want to see if I could help old Jackson out. The boy was getting a bit loud and starting to get a bit out of hand.
I walked over and set my glass on the table between Bill and the stranger.
“How goes it Bill, you doing ok this fine day?”
 I watched the stranger and he didn’t much like my interference with his conversation and his eyes let me know it.
“I am doing fine and this he feller he’s a wild one has a lot to say and he means to say it.”
“Stranger you got business here in this town or are you just passing through?”

“Mister I don’t see what business that is of yours, you should mind your own cause this don’t concern you.” He shifted in his seat and turned his chair to face me.

“Stranger you are welcome to stay and have a drink but this here town is a peaceful one and we don’t want trouble from any strangers. So if you can’t mind yourself then you should head out of here before the sun sets. “
“Mister you don’t know what trouble is but it’s coming and you aint going to know what hit you when it does.”
“Just the same you heard what I said and I am not to remind you again. You stay peaceful or leave the town.’

He looked at me with hate in his eyes and I knew then he would not leave peacefully.  I picked up my glass and took down the last bit of whisky and returned the glass to the bar. I glanced at the stranger one last time from the mirror and walked outside headed towards the middle of the road knowing his kind he would not let it go without words or even worst a fight. He followed me and that’s when I heard him say it.

On the count of three, draw Mister!

© Copyright 2019 Kilroy. All rights reserved.

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