I DO NOT OWN HATFIELDS AND MCCOYS.
Louisville, Kentucky. 2 Weeks Later.
Billie Jo Preston stumbled into the capital city of the state of Kentucky in a severe state of dishevelment. It had been a fortnight since the shootout that his posse'd had with Jed Graham and the McCoys. When the gunfire had started, Billie Jo had taken cover and had crawled away from the camp. They had been outnumbered and he wasn't going to stick around to see who won. Preston had regretted leaving his horse behind; but even though it would slow him down, it would allow him to hide easier and slip through the woods. Billie Jo had managed to get a pretty good head start over his pursuers. They had eventually noticed his disappearance and sure enough, a couple of those mountain hillbillies had tried to hunt him up. Luckily for him, he had managed to find a rotting tree and had hidden himself inside it. The McCoys had ridden by, but had not noticed him.
After almost 2 weeks of breaking into homes and stealing food and drink, Billie Jo Preston finally made his way to Louisville. He and his first posse had been here before when they were hunting Jed. Graham had been trying to set up roots here when Billie Jo had caught wind of him here. When he had been here, some of his men had talked about a Pinkerton man that worked in the city. Franklin Phillips, also known as Bad Frank. The men had spoken of him as a savage and they would tell stories of the men he had slaughtered. Billie Jo was going to need a man like that on his side if he was going to get the upper hand against Jed and his McCoy allies. Billie Jo made his way to a small office building with a sign that read FRANK PHILLIPS: BOUNTY HUNTER. Preston went inside and sure enough, Bad Frank was inside having a shot of whiskey. He was a grizzled looking man dressed in black just like Billie Jo was.
"Well, ain't you a sorry sight?" Bad Frank asked as Billie Jo stumbled in.
"Ya'll get hunted up by a bunch o' mountain people, you'd look like like shit too." Billie Jo snapped back as he sat down. "Name's Billie Jo Preston."
"What can I do ya fer, Mr. Preston?" Frank asked as he sat down.
"A black hearted bastard named Jedediah Graham killed my pa and I want him to hang fer it!" Preston exclaimed.
"Can't ya handle 'em by yourself?" Phillips asked with a chuckle as the villain scowled.
"I tried, I rounded up 2 different posses to hunt up that murderer." Billie Jo argued. "They all got killed by those bastard McCoys."
"McCoys?"
"They're some hillbilly clan that Jed Graham's allied himself with; married one of Ol' Randall's daughters so now they're sheltering him."
"Looks like ya got yerself in quite the pickle." Bad Frank smirked.
"I need a savage that can raise holy Hell against them blood thirsty hillbillies and git me n' my pa some justice." Billie Jo insisted.
"I admit, I knew how to be savage when I rode with Jesse James," Bad Frank explained. "But that was before I washed in the blood o' our lord n' savior Jesus Christ."
"Yer a Christian?" Preston asked as his face dropped. "That's too bad." Bad Frank let out a laugh. He was beginning to like this upstart.
"I may be, but I still know how to use a gun and damn well." He assured Billie Jo as the young man grinned evilly.
"That's good, I need someone who can rain down a Hellfire o' shit on Jedediah Graham n' all who aid him." Preston demanded.
"It'll be considerable work...which will require considerable coin." Bad Frank stated.
"I can get it, do you know who the Nashville Prestons are"
"Should I?"
"They is mighty wealthy, Mr. Phillips." Billie Jo explained. "Let me be straight with ya: I'll pay ya $100 in advance, $500 fer every Graham collberator ya git, and $1000 once Jed is swinging from a noose." Bad Frank's mouth was watering at the sounds of all that money.
"Well then Mr. Preston..." I say we in business." Frank said as the men spat and shook on the deal. The two villains drank a toast to Jed's blood which would soon be on their hands.
EVIL ATTRACTS EVIL. REVIEWS NEEDED AND APPRECIATED.