Despite the racking pain, Doc knew he needed to get some water to drink. He had gone all day without food so he was also extremely hungry. He grit his teeth together and pushed himself up the stone wall of the old jail house. His eyes searched the darkness for something he could use to hold water. He couldn't find anything in the jail house, Slowly and painfully he walked to the doorway. The moonlight was cutting through clouds creating strange shadows on the abandon town.
Doc cupped his right hand over his left arm and held it to his side trying to support both the arm and his ribs. He walked back to the saloon in search of a glass or a bottle. Anything at this moment would work. His determination to get a drink of water almost made him forget his pain.
The swing door creaked as Doc pushed it open. The noise caused some rodents inside to scatter. He wasn't sure if they were mice or rats and at this point he didn't care.
The musty smell of the dead man hung in the air. To someone who had not smelled the sweet smell of death before, they would surely be sick. Doc glanced at the dead man. He remained right where Garrett shot him. They hadn't even bothered to bury him. Doc shook his head in disgust before turning his attention back to his being there in the first place.
Doc carefully wove through the toppled chairs and broken tables to reach the old bar. With the moonlight shining, his own reflection in the dusty mirror caused his to jump. With a painfully deep breath he stepped behind the bar. His eyes had become accustom to the darkness and finally he spotted something on the bottom shelf that would serve the purpose.