"How do you do friend?" said Jeremiah, firing his pistol through the window, as if no gunfight was really going on.
"I'm doing just fine. How about yourself?" asked John in the same manner.
"Unfortunately, it seems that I have gotten myself into a fine bit of trouble, friend. Mind giving me a hand?" asked Jeremiah.
"I'd be delighted to, partner." replied John, pulling out a stick of dynamite. He proceeded to light it. "Heads up!"
The dynamite made a deafening explosion, leaving Jeremiah, John, and anyone left alive below them with ringing ears. Jeremiah and John stayed in cover with their hands covering their ears, waiting in agony for their hearing to return. After what seemed like eternity, it finally did. Jeremiah breathed a sigh of relief before peaking outside the window, trying to see if there were any survivors. As it turned out, anyone who wasn't blown to several pieces rolled around on the ground, wounded or deafened. Jeremiah sat back down.
"So what are you doing out this way, John?" asked Jeremiah.
"I was heading to Blackwater when I decided I'd take a rest here," said John.
"As it just so happens, I was hoping to head out that way as well. What do you say we ride up there together?"
"Sounds like a fine idea to me. Let me just get my things around and we'll head out," said John.
After John had gotten his weapons and clothes together, he and Jeremiah started down the stairs. Jeremiah, with his pistol drawn, went in front of John ready to fire at a moment's notice, while John carried some extra things to put in his saddle. As Jeremiah turned around the corner at the bottom of the stairs, he noticed a man with a shotgun lying in wait to kill him and John. Jeremiah jolted backwards as buckshot tore apart the wooden siding of the safehouse. Jeremiah turned the corner and shot the man in the neck and then the head with his High Power Pistol. John's horse was hitched to his left.
As John loaded up his mount, Jeremiah surveyed the area around them, waiting for another criminal to strike. When John was ready, Jeremiah whistled for his own horse, which promptly came through the alley. Luckily for Jeremiah, his stallion was unscathed. Without a word, John and Jeremiah trotted out of the alley. Jeremiah observed the mangled, bloody bodies that covered the street.
As they rode out of Thieves' Landing, the horse's hooves made a familiar plopping sound that was customary when riding through Thieves' Landing. The only difference was that now the sound was not created because of water, but because of blood. Leaving a trail of death behind them, Jeremiah and John rode out of Thieves' Landing and towards Blackwater, unbeknownst to them that this would be the second to last time that they'd see each other.