The reverberation from the shot shook nearby windows and caused a mule to kick over his trough. The boy stopped short and fell to a knee, kicking up dust where the bullet had struck the dirt.
"You could have hit me," he said.
"Maybe I should have,"
Another shot rang off the buildings in the dusty alley but Jack's gun didn't smoke.
"You gentlemen are under arrest,"
A tan and tall man with a finely pressed white shirt soaked through with sweat was pointing a long black shotgun at Jack's middle.
"Holster it," He said and stepped cautiously towards the aging gunslinger.
Jack's gun stayed as fixed as his eyes to the boy.
"Did you miss me?" The sweaty sheriff yelled, "I told you to do something, son,"
The sun at noon was like a torch lit to cause displeasure. It hung over head like a task master whipping the subjects below and prodding them on toward death. Jack turned to the sheriff and his mouth creased into the skin rivers of a frown.
"You don't understand, sheriff," Jack said
"I understand plenty now holster it or see sweet Jesus,"
Jack sighed, glancing back at the boy who waited expectantly for what he knew would come.
"We all have to die somehow," Jack said and the boy lunged.
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