Shotgun JackChapter 3
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That last bullet plowed into my left forearm and took out a chunk of meat. Now that was painful enough to get my attention even ifen I had not been riled up from the first shot. I was really pissed off as I grabbed my rifle, my spare ammunition, and my canteen. I jumped offen Jack's back and sent him out of the line of fire.
The first thing I did was tear off a piece of my already ruined sleeve and wrap it around my wound. I had to stop and put all my stuff down to do that, but between my right hand and my teeth, I managed to git the bandage tight enough to stop most of the bleedin'. The section of meat taken from my arm wasn't gonna interfere with my shootin', but that didn't keep it from hurtin' like hell.
I picked up my stuff and started creepin' toward where the powder smoke had come from. I was countin' on the shooter havin' dismounted afore he took his shots at me, since, if he hadn't, I was gonna have a tough time catchin' up to him. Now that he knows I'm chasin' him, he wouldn't have no trouble outrunnin' me, since his horse is bound to be faster than my mule, and my mule is carryin' a lot more weight than his horse.
I kept as low as I could an made my way through the brush and trees toward where I thought he might be. Aha! There he is beside that tree. He must know he winged me, but he might think that I was hurt worse than I am. That could explain why he's still standing where he first shot at me, instead of moving to a new place like any smart ambusher would do. At least, he ain't as good a shot as I had him figured to be—he must of just been real lucky with that shot he used to kill my boss, Mr. Williams.
The canteen was hanging around my neck by its shoulder strap, and the saddlebag was slung over my shoulder, soz I had reasonably free hands to handle my rifle. I debated about taking a shot at the galoot from this distance, but ifen I did, I might kill him. I really wanted him alive enough to answer a few questions afore he died, soz I better wait a little bit afore I shoot.
With that in mind, I sneaked up a bit closer. In fact, I got within shotgun range. Now I had a real conundrum: should I switch to my shotgun? It was almost sure that I wouldn't miss with my shotgun, but there was a bigger chance of killing him. I decided to stick with my rifle for now, but I would switch in a moment ifen I had to. Well, the question was taken out of my hands at that moment.
I heard a stick break as ifen somebody stepped on it, and I looked in that direction. There was a galoot over there pointin' his sixshooter at me and lookin' like he was about to fire. I didn't wait around fer no conversation, but dove behind a tree just as he fired. He missed, but he did come damned close!
I didn't mess around, this time. I pulled out my shotgun and fired both barrels at the bastard. Quick as I could, I reloaded and cocked both hammers in case I needed more firepower. I used my shotgun because I figured that I couldn't miss with it, and the one bullet from the rifle was a little bit too chancy. Well, I was right. I hit the galoot with several balls, I don't know how many, but it was enough to take him out of the fight.
I turned my attention back to the guy with the buffalo gun just in time to see him lay it down and pull out his pistol. Well, I was one up on him, since my shotgun was already cocked. I gave him a blast from the left barrel, and that was enough to make him fall down. I watched close, but he didn't move, soz I figured it would be safe fer me to see how bad he was hurt.
Son of a bitch! One of the balls had caught him square in the right eye and blown out the back of his head. I wasn't gonna git any information from him, at least not directly. Maybe, the people back at the Flyin' W could tell me sumpthin' about him. I found the two horses and loaded the bodies on them. Jack responded to my whistle, so I was ready to ride in only a couple of minutes.
I got back to the ranch with my two prizes just about dark. Nobody knew nothin' about the bastard with the buffalo gun, but the other man was identified as the foreman of the Rockin' K ranch. This development didn't make a whole lot of sense. I had picked up an empty cartridge shell offen the ground where that galoot had shot at me with his buffalo gun. Close comparison with the empty shell I had picked up when I brought the boss' body in showed them to have been fired by the same gun. The ejector left a funny mark that was identical on both shells.
Everybody was sure that the killer didn't have no connections to the nesters, so that let them offen the hook, but why was he meetin' up with the foreman of the Rockin' K. Anyway, this news gave a whole new look to the "range war" idea. Anyway, I would return the foreman's body to the Rockin' K tomorrow and see ifen they had any ideas to offer.
The first thing that Miz. Emily did when she saw me was to look after the wound in my arm. She cleaned it out with carbolic acid, it didn't hurt, but it sure turned the skin a funny color. Once that was done, she sewed up the gash with the nicest stitches I ever saw. She finished off by puttin' on a fresh bandage.
That night at supper, Miz. Emily went on and on about how smart and brave I had been. I loved to hear that sort of talk, but it did git kind of embarrassing when it seemed like she was never gonna stop. At least, it sounded like she figured that I was earnin' my money.
After supper, she invited me to sit on the veranda with her. I figured that she would also ask the foreman to join us to act as a kind of duenna, but she didn't. That seemed almost kinda improper to me, but maybe they did things different in Wyoming. Anyway, I was glad to sit with her, especially when she had me join her in the swing. Damned ifen she didn't scoot over next to me and push her hip into mine. Man, that was awfully forward, even fer a saloon whore, and I knew she wasn't one of them.
I have to admit that she made me sweat, sittin' the way we was. Hell, I didn't know what to do with my hands, so I just let 'em lie in my lap. Come to think of it, that was probably good, since it help hide my hard on. We had been sittin' and talkin' fer about an hour, then she reached down and took my hand in hers. That's when she really made me sweat. She was a right pretty woman, and all that talkin' and holdin' hands was almost too much fer me! At least, I don't think I made a fool of myself, but I ain't real sure. That went on fer another hour afore she took pity on me and went to bed.
The next mornin', Miz. Emily acted like nothin' at all had happened the evenin' afore, so I didn't say nothin' either. Anyway, I sure was tense durin' breakfast.
I threw that dead foreman's body across his saddle and took it and the horse to the Rockin' K ranch. The horse carried their brand, so I figured that I ought to return it. I didn't worry about the other bastard; I don't even know what they did with his body.
I pulled into the yard at the Rockin' K ranch house and dismounted to knock on the door. It didn't take long for a older woman to come to the door. She said that she was the housekeeper, and I asked her to see ifen I could talk to the boss. She had me wait in the living room while she went to fetch the boss. A few minutes later, a man was rolled into the room in a wheelchair. We introduced ourselves, and I told him why I was there.
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Tuesday, November 7, 1972 It was about halfway through the fall semester of my senior year. All sorts of things were going on. Today was the day Tricky Dick was reelected President of these United States. The man was a seriously flawed but seriously underestimated man. Nixon probably had the finest mind for foreign policy of any President since the end of the Second World War. He also, very surprisingly considering he was a hard-core Republican, signed into law a plethora of domestic...
"Michael," she said, "We didn't have sex." Her gaze shifted to somewhere over my right shoulder. "Not really." "Not really?" I stared at her. I was standing in my own living room, a crumpled note clenched in my hand, asking my wife a question I couldn't believe I had to ask. She stared back at me, and I watched a debate go on behind her eyes. "You have to understand," she said. "I did it for us..." Her voice trailed off, and then she found it again. "For the baby." I...
Saturday, July 3, 1976 The nurse stepping into the room awakens me, I must have heard her open the door. It is the same nurse I met when I awoke from my coma. I was relieved to see her, but also slightly disappointed that it wasn’t Eve. The nurse stepped to the side of my bed. I read her nametag, and it read ‘Shirly Maxwell RN’ now I had a name to go with the face. I greeted her by saying, “I missed you yesterday.” “Oh, wow! It was my day off; I’ll be here throughout the holiday weekend....
She can't help the sigh that escapes her as his tongue circles her clit. His mouth is perfect, and he's so good at pleasing her with it as he's proven twice already tonight. Her fingers curl over the top of the headboard as she pushes her pussy down against his lips. Straddling his face makes her feel in control, which she wants tonight. And those noises he makes while surrounded by her thighs arouse her even more. Not only does he know exactly how to lick her, but he loves doing it for a...
Part 1:It all started way back in the summer I was turned. The neighborhood was pretty tight and everyone for the most part knew of each other, but didn't quite know each other. We as k**s all grew up in that neighborhood and as for me I moved in when I was early on, after my parents divorced and I ended up living with my Mom due to courts etc. It was a suburb of a big city, but one of the nicer ones that had swimming pools in some of the yards, and the lawns were cut. Not too bad. More or...
My sister, Joni, and I have been close since she was born. She is only 3 years younger than I am. We are just an average brother and sister, not really good looking, and not bad looking. We look a lot like each other. We both have straight jet black hair. She is 5'4" and about 120 lbs. She doesn't have big tits, but they are nice and round, and she has big hips and a nice butt. I am 5'8" and 170 lbs. My penis isn't overly large, but it is big around. Some have said it is almost as big around as...
Cape May, New Jersey June 1985 Kalliste's bow swung slowly, inexorably to port under the pressure of her reversed port engine until the stern was precisely lined up in the slot between the forty foot yacht to starboard and the dock to her port side. Engaging reverse on the starboard engine Tony expertly guided her into the slip, bringing the engines to full stop with a foot clearance aft and port and the fifty-five foot craft completely motionless. It was a feat of seamanship that belied...