In the deep dark hills of eastern Kentucky,
That's the place where I traced my blood line
And it's there I read on a hillside grave stone
You will never leave Harlan live
…
Boyd was sitting at the bar, staring into nothingness when Raylan walked in. He sat down on the stool next to Boyd and leaned his arms on the bar.
Boyd looked at him. "What are you doin' here?"
Raylan shrugged. "Got nowhere else to be at the moment. It true about Ava?"
Boyd nodded but said nothing.
Raylan sighed. "Well, what are we going to do about that?"
"We?" Boyd asked.
"Yeah, we." Raylan said. "The way I figure it, that man deserved what he got, and if I help you out now, you'll owe me one down the line." He said, brows raised, waiting for Boyd to contradict him or agree.
Boyd smiled at the deputy US Marshal and reached behind the bar for the closes bottle. "Alright then son, we got us some plannin' to do."
Raylan knew that he was playing with fire here, but he also knew that what he said was true, if he helped Boyd out now, he could get him to work on the good guys side somewhere down the road. And if he was really honest with himself, some of his best times over the last year, has been working alongside this man. "Alright, what are you thinking?"
For better or worse, they are tied together. They both have a common goal, and both know that that goal is near impossible. They will never leave Harlan alive.
….
Where the sun comes up, About 10 in the morning
And the sun goes down, About 3 in the day
And you fill your cup. with whatever bitter brew you're drinking
And you spend your life, diggin' coal from the bottom of your grave
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