Rick looked down the small town. He gestured his other men forward. He would spend a night here, and maybe even grab a bite to eat.

Tying his donkey to the rail not far from the saloon, Samuel began setting up his easel on the boarded sidewalk and then arranging, finished works on display.

They were all oil on canvas. There was one of his donkey and several horses grazing in a large spring pasture, with mountains in the background and large, white, billowing clouds above them. An eagle circled the sky. Another painting showed an ocean scene. Foamy rose tinted waves washing onto a stony beach, as the sun set on the horizon. There were others, one of a house on the edge of the prairie, with a wrap around porch and a swing out front, another of a river cascading down into a red canyon.

Finally he took out a half finished painting of sunset in the desert, placed it lovingly on his easel and took paints and brushes from a satchel.

Their voices became more distinct as they neared, though no one could understand the Comanche tongue.

"Grandfather, you are old to be making these trip," the young commented.

"Not yet so old," he answered vaguely, "I will be too old when you find a husband, my child."

"That time might be nearing," she said quietly.

"BOYS!" he shouted. They would recognize his booming voice. "BOYS! BOYS, COME OUT!" His men started pouring out of the buildings. Finally, they were all together.

Jim ran out of the saloon. Rick was shouting like a madman and men were coming to his aid.

"What is this, a raid?" he muttered. Jim once again upholstered his weapon.

"You're under arrest, Rick!" he shouted. Rick looked up and took out his gun. He then looked around at his men.

"Just try and stop me!"

((I know, kinda dramatic/unreal but I like to write like that))

“I didn’t have t’ try very hard,” he leered and slammed his index finger on the trigger.

Jim ran at them, shooting and waiting for the smoke to clear.

Sam, meanwhile, was getting up off the floor, the shots knocking him partially out of his drunk state. He ran to the door and took out his gun.

Quinn ducked as bullets danced around his head. He been shot at so many times the fear of dieing had been forced out of him. He rose to one knee and fired at the nearest man and not waiting to see if he killed him, fired at another.

Seeing his boss go down sent Sam on a rage. He ran into the crowd of baddies like a madman, shooting.

Once his mules were calm, Ethan peered out to see what the hell was going on. He looked out just, in time to see Jim go down and Sam rush out like a mad man. As the shooters turned all their attention to Sam, or tried to duck Quinn’s bullets, Ethan stepped out and knelt beside the sheriff.

Zip! Zang! Crash!

Two bullets whizzed over their heads. Ethan straitened his hat. “I think it’d be best to get yeh out of here, Sheriff. You don’t look fit to be dodging bullets,” he stated simply and swung Jim’s arm over his broad shoulder. As the wild shoot out continued in the street, Ethan began helping Jim toward the safety of the alleyway.

Sighing, he looked at the two Comanche’s, taking in the girl’s stricken face. “It’s not a pretty sight is it,” he said gently, hoping to direct her attention, away from the killing outside.

Quinn saw Ethan help Jim. He knew that the two would never make unless there was distraction. He made sure his gun contained six rounds in it. Then he flung him self into the middle of the street and braved the storm of bullets. He fired his pistol madly at the crowd as bullets flicked around him in the dirt.

The reply was a soft stream of Comanche.

"She is praying," the old man translated, "For those in the fight. Naira, my granddaughter, has pity on many, even those who don't deserve it. She is a good girl," he patted his granddaughter's shoulder affectionately, then winced as another spree of gunfire sounded.

"You...good too, Sani," Naira slowly said in English.

Sani only smiled tiredly and soothed their nervous horse.

--------------------------------------

Ethan had nearly made it back to the safety of the ally, when one of the wild bullets hit him, grazing through his side. Stumbling, he fell down some steps, sending both Jim and him sprawling into the mud in front of the allyway. Painfully, Ethan rolled over, with a groan and, grabbing Jim by his jacket, crawls into the safety of side street.

Panting, Ethan sat against the side of the smithy and then looked down at his side. It wasn’t bad. The bullet had passed through leaving shallow, but bloody wound. Groaning, he got up and got some bandages and a canteen from a pack of his mules. After wrapping up his own wound, he went over to Jim.

“Sheriff?” he asked, looking over Jim’s wound.

((Ok Cabloob you’ll have to tell me what Ethan will see here))

Jim felt himself being pulled along. His wound was burning and he felt its venoms spreading. It hurt like hell. Someone was pulling him to safety. When they reached the alley, Jim slipped into unconsciousness.

Someone else had gotten in the fight, and had shot one henchman down. Sam was still shooting wildly, but he felt his vision clouding over. The shots in his body were becoming more and more critical, and he was losing blood fast. Another shot did him in and he crumpled to the floor. He crawled along to one of the henchmen and shot his package off. He saw Rick move slightly. He was still alive!? Sam crawled over to him and recognized him instantly as the man that had attacked him years ago. Sam put his gun to Rick's head and pulled the trigger. It was empty. Rick's nasty looking wound had blood pouring all over his face. Rick used his last reserves of energy to shoot Sam in the eye. BOOM!

Sam and Rick died after that shot.

Quinn saw Sam’s face explode into a mess of flesh and blood. He ran forward and fired at two henchmen trying to steal Sam’s body. Screaming an old war cry in his native Gaelic he ran at the remaining men in Rick’s group. A bullet flew at him and smacked into his flesh just below his belly. He stumbled backward like a drunken man and his pistol fell to the dust with a thud. Turning away from the fight he crawled toward the Saloon looking for refuge.

"We need a clinic. Take care of your boss here until we can move into a clinic." He then ran back into the shootout.

---------

Sani nodded thankfully, and he took Naira's arm gently, telling her in Comanche what Samuel had suggested. Turning their faces away from the gory gun fight, the two of them hurried through the side door into the hotel.

((Continued in the Hotel, I guess...))

As the gunfire started, Kyle ducked around the side of a building, pulling out his two pistols with lightning-quick speed. Peering around the corner he took in the scene at a glance. The Sheriff was down, so was the man who had started it all. Suddenly the deputy and the Irishman were both down, the Irishman slowly crawling to safety.

"Darn my luck." Kyle muttered to himself, "I wanted to have a little peace here. Oh well.."

Without putting any real thought into the action, Kyle leaped out from behind the building and started shooting with deadly accuracy at Rick's henchmen, especially the one who was dragging Rick off. Holstering his left-hand pistol, Kyle reached Sam and grabbed the dead man's jacket, dragging him back and into the Saloon.

((Continued in the Saloon))

"Argh! WE NEED SOMEWHERE TO WAIT THIS OFF!" he shouted. "LET'S TAKE THE CLINIC!" He headed to the clinic with Rick and some other henchmen.

"D***it! Get under cover!" Saul yelled at his younger brother, who was standing in the street firing like an idiot. Saul pumped another shell into his shotgun and fired at the retreating figure of Kyle. The fighting seemed to have stopped. The sheriff and his helpers had all been beaten down. Saul pumped the lever on his shotgun again.

"The streets clear! Get into a couple buildings and barricade them up pronto!" Saul moved out from his perch behind a building and surveyed the gang.

((need info on number of henchmen/condition they're in/general temperment and IQ/etc.))

Ahab fired a last shot and then rolled to cover. Sitting beside his brother, Ahab began quickly reloading his guns.

“D*** Irish dog! He has no idea what he’s done! He’ll pay! They’ll all pay! They can’t just kill Rick!”

He wiped blood from his cheek, where it had been grazed by a bullet, and stood, holding his gun ready.

"The streets clear! Get into a couple buildings and barricade them up pronto!" Saul moved out from his perch behind a building and surveyed the gang.

Ahab followed his brother out. “Right. We should take the sheriff’s office, there’s sure to b guns and supplies there and we should see no one leaves town to get help.”

“Damn blue-bellied coward!”

Angrily, Ahab turned and stormed into the sheriff’s cabin.

Getting the best horses they could find they went down the ally, by the saloon. Seeing the two black geldings tied behind the saloon, Ahab smiled. “Now this aint to hard,” he said and dismounted to fetch the horses.

Socrates, on the other hand, stood placidly, merely waiting until someone got close enough.

----------------

Kyle came dashing out the back door, guns blazing, green eyes flashing with too many emotions. He fired off shots at Ahab and the other men, not wild, but precise and accurate shots. Both guns working and shooting, as if they were manned by two completely separate beings. Kyle rarely ever missed.

((there's 6 guys, right?))

Val, hearing his brother's swearing and the gunshots coming from the street, moved swiftly to a rear window. He aimed his rifle out the window and fired off accurate shots at the 6 men that were trying to take the horses.

“Damn loon of a horse!” shouted Ahab and fired twice, at the horse rearing above him.

Kyle came dashing out the back door, guns blazing, green eyes flashing with too many emotions. He fired off shots at Ahab and the other men, not wild, but precise and accurate shots.

Ahab dived for cover, as two of his men fell dead and bullets whizzed by his ears. Shots sounded from within the saloon and two more of the bandits fell badly wounded.

Cursing, Ahab knew he no longer had any chance of stealing the horses. Quickly, he shot the two black geldings twice, it was a pity, but he had no choice. Then he gabbed is own horse and using it as a shield, he made to ride back out to the open street, One of his men following with wounded friend over his saddle.

“Damn loon of a horse!” shouted Ahab and fired twice, at the horse rearing above him.

One of the bullets grazed past Achilles' right ear, frightening him all the more and causing him to back away from Ahab, though he continued to rear. The second bullet took the gelding high in his front left leg, near the shoulder, and made him back away even farther, nearly collapsing from the stress put on his injury.

"Achilles!" Kyle screamed, his green gaze held such a mix of rage and sorrow. "NO!"

Cursing, Ahab knew he no longer had any chance of stealing the horses. Quickly, he shot the two black geldings twice, it was a pity, but he had no choice. Then he grabbed is own horse and using it as a shield, he made to ride back out to the open street.

The shot fired at Val's horse, Socrates, found it's mark, entering in the gelding's left flank and exiting through his right shoulder. The horse went down instantly, pulling down part of the railing with him. The shot fired at Achilles, however, missed it's intended mark completely. Kyle, being the reckless emotional type that he was, had gotten close enough to his beloved horse to push the gelding to lay down and the bullet that was meant for the horse hit Kyle instead. Feeling an intense wave of pain shooting through his entire right arm, and unaware that he had just saved his horse, Kyle managed to fire off his final shot from his right hand gun, before he had to drop his arm.

"Damn you!" Kyle yelled after Ahab, pure anguish moistening his eyes. He kept firing his left hand six-gun at Ahab's retreating horse. After firing only two shots, however, he heard the ominous sound of the gun clicking on empty chambers. But still he kept pulling back the hammer and squeezing the trigger, his emotions outweighing his commonsense.

Val, seeing that Ahab and the remaining men had fled the scene, quickly ran into the street and over to where his brother stood. Kyle's shoulders shook with the ensuing emotions that flooded him, his hands hung limply, almost lifelessly, at his sides and he let his guns fall to the ground. Val stood next to his brother and placed a gentle hand on his uninjured shoulder.

"Kyle." Val spoke quietly and calmly to his younger brother, "We can do nothing to save either horse."

Kyle flinched. "NO!" He gritted out through clenched teeth, refusing to believe his brother's words.

But Val persisted, "They need to be put out of their misery."

Kyle shook his head and turned away from Val, looking at his crippled horse. "I can't-I won't do it!"

"I never asked you to." Val replied stoically. "Go inside, Kyle."

Kyle hung his head, silently accepting his horses' fate. He bent down and picked up both pistols with his good hand and walked over to where his horse lay. "Goodbye, old friend." He whispered and walked back inside.

Val watched his brother go as he refilled his rifle with shells. The Lawyer aimed the gun at his own injured horse.

"Thank you." He said and pulled the trigger.

((*cries* it's SO sad! *sniff* Yes, I know, it turned into a novel all on it's own...but I just *had* to write all that.))

((Continued in the Saloon))

Bullets whizzed by, as Ahab rushed for the open street. His horse was hit and fell with a scream. Sent flying several feet, the bandit landed in the mud of the open road outside the saloon. Quickly he rolled to cover behind a water trough, but he seemed no longer to be a target. The shooting had stopped and only the cries of wounded horses could be heard. Two last shots were heard and all was quite.

Angrily Ahab got up. He was covered in mud and less pleasant contents of the road. Cursing, he reloaded his gun and holstered it, before looking around for is brother.

"Get some horses and board up a couple buildings on the edge of town." He yelled at some of the gang members, who obeyed and went off. He looked around the town, most of the buildings were boarded up now. Most of the horses were dead, but you couldn't be sure. Still, there were some great horsemen in this gang, they should be able to catch anyone who made a run for it. There was no hope of taking all the buildings, and no point. As long as they had a few hostiges it would be fine.

Now they already had the Doc. There were a few men holes up in the saloon, and a few other stares were boarded up and occupied. They'd need to take another couple people to be on the safe side, say one more building. Of course it would be nice to get some loot while they were here too.

"Someone get me a couple big bottles of liquor and some rags!" He yelled.

((If anyone tries to skip town they'll have to outrun or outfight about three mounted bandits.))

One of the bandits fell to the ground as the crack of a rifle shot went out. Saul cursed and hit the dirt, rolling behind a barrel. The other bandits reacted fast as the shots rang out, but a couple of them were injured. The moment the firing stopped Saul pulled his shotgun over the barrel, fired, and ducked. Meanwhile the bandits who had hidden started opening fire at the unknown attacker.

1. Forums are not to be used to post stories.
2. All discussions, language and content, must be suitable for teens.
3. The owner/moderator(s) of this forum is solely responsible for content posted within this area.
4. All forum abuse must be reported to the moderator(s).

1. Forum admin/moderator
2. Fanatic (on site for more than 2 years)
3. Fan (on site for more than a year)
4. Regular (on site for more than 6 months)
5. Camper (on site for more than a month)
6. Apprentice (on site for more than a week)
7. Newbie (on site for less than a week)