Frost was continuing, trying to be the voice of reason. “I dunno everything. It’s not my place. Yes, I know you see me as the villain. Everything in your universe is either black and white, cut and dry. But, deep down, you know that ain’t really how this world works. Good people suffer and bad people get away with murder. That’s the cold hard reality of it all. And me, I’m just doing my job. And it’s my job to get her back.”
It seemed to take a concerted physical effort for Tiger to avert his eyes away from the vixen, but slowly, with obvious physical effort, he turned back to Frost, as if trying to break a spell he was under. But once he did, he looked the man square in the eye.
Y’know … you just doing your job … in the last few hours it’s turned me into a fugitive and cost me my ship … you shot up a place that’s holds a lot of special memories for me … and you might’ve killed a good friend.” Tiger’s eyes narrowed, as he seethed, “You’ve pretty much gone and completely ruined my whole damned weekend!”
The man set his jaw and swallowed hard. He’d made his choice. Frost knew the signs. It was personal now. He was going to go.
“It might be your job, hoss,” Tiger continued, his voice and chin rising in defiance with each word. His Southern accent was more prominent now, each word more pronounced, more annunciated. “But that damned sure don’t make it right!”
Frost was going for the rail pistol on his hip before Tiger had even finished the sentence. In that same split second, he saw Tiger going under his frock coat. Shoulder rig. Cross draw. Good first move. Smooth motion. Gonna be close. His battle-experienced mind slowed everything down and processed it all. He never actually saw the pistol clear leather. By then he was too intent on making his own shot count. He knew now he wouldn’t get a second off. He only saw the muzzle flash, blinding in the night sky, as he himself pulled the trigger.
***
He was on his back, lying in the byway. His chest was numb and he couldn’t breathe. He gasped for air to fill his lungs, but it wasn’t coming fast enough. He still held the pistol loosely in his right hand, but it didn’t matter, both were useless now, as he couldn’t move any of his extremities.
Through blurry eyes, he saw the man standing over him. He hadn’t holstered his pistol; it hung by his side, finger still on the trigger. Did he plan on finishing him off? What was he waiting for? Maybe he was savoring his triumph. After all, this bastard he’d just bested had caused him all kinds of grief today. He couldn’t blame him. It was a well-earned victory, won fair and square. If I was him, I’d be doing the same thing!
It mattered little now. The night was growing darker, his vision fading fast. The man was talking, saying something, but it was all incoherent babble. He might as well have been underwater a hundred miles away, as far as he was concerned. Yeah, keep on running that BS mill! A few more seconds and he would cheat him out of his coup de grâce. Poetic justice!
His last regret, his last wish, as the darkness took him down … I just wish I had the strength to give the bastard the finger!
***
“I told you he’d never believe we’d shoot this purty li’l thing.” Tex had walked up behind him, while Amber had padded up on his right side. All three now stared down at Frost. Even now, he still seemed a menacing, imposing figure. Tiger still hadn’t holstered his pistol. It was almost as if he expected the fallen bounty hunter to suddenly come alive, leaping to his feet and firing.
“Some people just have trust issues, I guess.” Tiger shrugged as he finally felt comfortable enough to open his coat and holster his pistol.
“Where’d you learn to draw down like that?” Tex asked. “Hell, son, that was straight outta Tombstone.”
Tiger turned to him and grinned. “Didn’t you want to be a cowboy when you were a kid, Tex?”
The old man laughed. “Actually, I wanted to be an astronaut. Or an engineer on one those old steam trains.”
Tiger shook his head. “Train engineer would’ve been the better choice.”
They grew silent again, as they turned to look back down at Frost. Tiger knew he was fast. It had been a talent he’d discovered years ago, when he’d started dabbling in Cutter’s business to make some extra side money. Funny thing about that profession … there were few Sunday school teachers and Eagle Scouts in that line of work. Most were hard men and women, desperate, dangerous. Many would think nothing of slitting a person’s throat if they thought it was needed. In that world, it behooved one greatly to have a reputation as a person adept with a gun, knife, or any other weapon. Over time, he became known throughout the dark corners of the system as a man with a lightning gun hand. After tonight, another chapter would be added to that growing legend.
It would be Tex who would once again break the silence after a few moments of pondering. “You think his people will keep coming after you … even after this?”
“Who knows? If not them, they’ll just send another bunch.”
“Then I suggest we be on our way,” Tex turned to walk back to his car. “We’ve stood here gawking long enough.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” It didn’t seem right to leave the man lying in the middle of the byway. Even if he was a cold-blooded murderer, he still deserved better than to be left out here like a pile of roadkill. But
