Duel with Death

A thick iron pot's bottom grew dents. The dents were made by rapidly shot bullets. The bullets came from Rath's shooter. Emptying the chamber, Rath stopped fanning the hammer. Seeing the dents, Rath put down his shooter on the med table.

Flexing his fingers, "Aim good," he thought, "but the fingers need a workout," sliding off the stone bed.

His feet hit the stone floor. Pain shot through his body. His knees nearly buckled. His hands caught the top of table. Regaining his balance walked towards the iron pot.

His fingers moved over the bulge. Most the bullets hit the general area.

Hearing clapping behind him, he turned and brought his attention to the top of the stairs.

Walking down the stairs, "The fever didn't destroy your skills," said Cob.

"Still need improvement," stated Rath.

Getting to the bottom of the stairs, April's ashes returned to the sandwalkers," commented Cob walking towards Rath.

Gunslingers that die are cremated. Their final wishes on how to depose the ashes are carried out.

"That's what she wanted," agreed Rath.

Stopping in front of Rath, "What are you going to do?" asked Cob.

"Get better and carry on my duty."

"No revenge?"

"Worry about that when my path across with those four."

"Could send you to Gilead?"

"Fardo needs less worries not more."

Nodding in acceptation, Cob turned and started up the stairs. Rath followed. Rath felt Cob wanted to add more, but didn't. He decided not to push it, there was so much Rath could push from Cob. If it was important, Cob would talk about it.

Opening of the door allowed light to hit Rath's eyes. Shielding them with his hand, they adjusted in time as they walked across the courtyard towards the living quarters.

"The coward lives," stopped their feet.

Turning, Rath saw a familiar face. It was Death beside him was Russell.

"Russell, what is this slander I just heard?" asked Cob.

"This gunslinger has a charge against Rath, Cob," remarked Russell.

"That's no gunslinger, that's Death," stated Rath, "or is it Mort?"

"It doesn't matter either way," answered Mort smiling, "Good to see that the sun didn't bake your memory," crossing his arms, "How you survived the Wastelands," shrugging his shoulders, "Anyone's guess."

"What's this slander against Rath?"

"Cob, Dinh gunslinger, simply really, a dual with Rath. Might be tough for him since putting bullets into women's skulls is more his style."

Turning towards Rath, "Rath, you're not ready," stated Cob.

"Cob, being ready part of a gunslinger's life, cluding facing death," facing his opponent, "Let's dual, Mort."

Sighing, Cob walked towards Russell who did the same thing. They might in the center then turned and walked towards the side. Cob looked at Rath then Mort.

"Gunslingers ready?" Cod announced.

Both removed the leather latch from the hammers.

"Count of three, lift and pull triggers," looking at the dueling gunslingers, "1…," fingers flexed, "2...," eyes stared at each other, "3…," hands went to the handles and triggers pulled.

Rath head whip lashed backwards as his bullet entered Death. Back of his head bounced off the stone surface of the courtyard. Blood ran from Rath's forehead.

Running, "Rath!" yelled Cob picking up Rath's head, "Traitorous Russell allowing this monster into Terra."

A second shot sent Cob backwards. Rath stared up unable to move. Footsteps walked towards him. Staring down at him was Mort. In his hand, something bounced up and down.

"The bullet," thought Rath.

"Cob was right you were not ready. Wastelands really did hurt you," stated Death.