Jim Rossiter walked slowly up the deserted street. No sound could be heard except for the jingling of his spurs on the hard, dusty ground. Ahead, Lonnie Parker waited for him, hands hanging by his twin Colts. Jim came to a stop fifty feet in front of him. For a moment, neither spoke.
Lonnie still retained his easy smile, but the bland, innocent look in his eyes had disappeared. Defeat and disappointment had stripped Lonnie of his boyish facade. All that remained were the cold, cunning eyes of a killer.
"I feel sorry for Magda." Lonnie sneered "Having to watch you die in the street like a dog." "She won't feel the same way for you." Jim replied calmly. Lonnie's face flushed with rage. He grabbed for his guns. The twin Colts leaped from their holsters, spouting flame. Jim felt the heat on his face as the first bullet flew past his head. The second bullet passed through his right calf. Jim felt his leg collapse beneath him, but his own gun was out and coming up, and as his knee touched the ground, he fired. The 45 caliber slug struck Lonnie Parker just above the belt buckle.
Lonnie fell to his knees, his guns hanging limply by his side. Pain, shock, and hatred gleamed in his eyes. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to raise his revolvers. Jim fired again, and Lonnie dropped lifeless in the street.
Jim struggled to his feet, ignoring the pain in his leg. Suddenly, Magda was at his side, supporting him. "Oh Jim", She gasped. "Are you all right?" Jim looked into her grey-green eyes and smiled. "I'm all right Mag." He said. "Lets go home. Her smile said more than a thousand words ever could.
