Two Men and a Gun

The sun shone across the dry sand. Cacti towered over small bushes that littered the landscape. All was still except for the light, warm breeze that stirred up sand and rocks. It was all quite quiet, until a scream echoed through the desert. The scream of a tortured soul, of a man on the brink of death, a man by the name of Outlaw. Behind him was an older fellow, a fellow holding a gun to Outlaw’s head.

“Why?! Don’t do this to me, you bastard! I helped you get all the money in this wretched town…and you double cross me! How could you?!” Outlaw yelled at the man. He didn’t want to look him in the face. That meant looking at the barrel of the gun.

“Now you just sit here,” the older man said calmly, “and I’ll get my supplies.”

“Supplies? What do you mean? You’re not just going to leave me in the middle of the desert to die?”

“Oh, no. That wouldn’t be enough. You’ve killed many men.”

“I’ve killed many men?,” Outlaw interrupted, “You were with me every step of the way!”

“ Yes, I was. But I’m not the man looking down the barrel of a gun, am I?” The older man said as he reached in a bag and pulled out some ropes.

“What are you doing,” Outlaw asked, horrified, “What are those ropes for?”

“Stand next to that cactus. If you don’t listen to me, you’re dead.”

“I’m going to be dead either way. If you’re going to torture me by tying to that cactus I would want to die now!” Outlaw exclaimed.

“ You’d have a chance to escape,” The old man responded with a light chuckle, “if I shoot you now, there’s no way to escaping death.”

“You’re mad!” Outlaw yelled, “ I would never have double crossed you!”

“That’s why you’re the one who’s going to die first.”

Outlaw examined the scene. He could overpower the man and kill him, but he wouldn’t have the strength to make it back into the city even with the man’s supply of water. He was a dead man either way. His only choice was to kill the man, for he hated him with his soul. When the man wasn’t looking, Outlaw positioned his body, ready to lunge forward and attack him.

“Don’t try that,” the man said, as if he knew what Outlaw was going to do, “I’ll have you down before you even reach the peak of your jump. Now go stand next to that cactus.” Outlaw followed the man’s orders, and stood by the cactus, careful not to touch any of the sharp needles. The older man walked to outlaw, carrying a rope.

“Now, stand still,” the man commanded. Suddenly, Outlaw threw his body to the ground, and kicked the man in the knees. The man fell to the ground, and without pause, Outlaw grabbed the man’s gun and pointed it at his face.

“If you kill me, you can’t make it back to the town,” the man said, “it looks like we are going to die together, eh?” Outlaw kept the gun pointed at the man and walked to the man’s case of supplies. In there was a canteen of water, some extra ammo for the pistol, and a bag of cash from their last heist. He took a drink of the water, and walked back to the man.

“Let me just kill you,” the man said.

“No,” Outlaw responded, and shot the man in the face. He walked to the corpse, examined the remains, and started on his way.

“You were never a good father,” Outlaw muttered under his breath. He took one last look back, and then started on his walk to death.