Untitled Chapter

Jack rested the Winchester on the salt rise. The range was long. Wind came from the right. One rider raised his pistol again, aiming to break the runner's leg. Jack fired. The shot cracked across the lake. The rider fell from the saddle like a wet sack dropped on white ground. The second man jerked his horse around. Jack had already worked the lever and aimed. The second shot tore through the man's shoulder. He screamed, fell, and clawed at the salt crust with his left hand. Jack rose and walked toward them with the horses behind him. The hunted man knelt and gasped for breath. He was young, native, with an old scar across his face and eyes like a wounded hawk. The wounded Titan rider tried to reach his gun. Jack stepped on his wrist.