Sadly, Southernfrau is no longer with us. Her stories are archived here for her friends to remember her by. Enjoy her legacy to Lancer.
Word Count 200
Eyes with evil intent watched from the shadows as his prey was exiting the bank. He cursed viciously as he noted Lancer’s younger son’s empty hands. Why couldn’t that boy be like everyone else, and come out of the bank counting his money in the brilliant outside light?
The predator distracted by his disgruntled thoughts, missed the movement of Lancer. Johnny took several steps towards the ‘would be’ robber’s spot of concealment. Within two jingles of his spurs, the hair on his neck rose, his right hand dropped to the butt of his gun nestled in the low slung holster.
Johnny’s slender fingers calmly loosed the leather thong that kept the gun in place. He never broke his pace, and his eagle eyes detected the slight movement within the shadowed alley. All sight and sound behind and beyond the menacing presence he sensed, ceased to exist. He heard the panting breaths, as well as the scrape of boot soles on sand.
Three steps later a gun barrel appeared from the shadows, but never found level aim, Madrid’s colt flashed from the holster as fast as a bullet leaves a chamber…the boom still vibrating when the assailant thudded heavily down.
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