Chapter Three The Northern Waste

But men like these should not live to fool the next thirsty traveler. The gray-coated man lifted a trembling hand. His voice scraped. "We can split it. There's money, jewelry. Take half. No, take all. Let us go." Jack turned back. "Did you give them a choice?" The man stared. Jack raised the Colt. The first shot ended the gray-coated man. The second, third, and fourth were swallowed by the waste, leaving only echoes rolling through the dry river. The final short man knelt shaking. "I didn't kill anybody. I only watched the goods." Jack checked his hands. Powder black marked the fingers. A woman's silver hair comb was hidden at his belt. "Then explain it to them." The gun fired. Night went quiet again.