In all honesty, Gabriel Wright had about a 50-50 shot at life, but one can’t help but be pessimistic while looking down the barrel of a loaded Colt Peacemaker. In just a few short seconds that phrase would have all new significance to Gabriel. Said meaning would either become apparent to, or enforced by, Lee Matthews, a man downright terrifying even at twenty paces away. There was an icy coldness in Matthews’ grey eyes that gave the distinct impression that he could kill with absolutely no remorse. The shadows under his eyes matched the shade of his hair, and, as many locals had determined, the color of his very soul. Harrowing as it was, Gabriel could not break that cold stare. It was far easier than looking at the tortured faces of his wife and child, both of whom were among the crowd that had been steadily gathering around since the men had made their paces.

Briefly, Gabriel caught a whiff of the scent of his wife’s perfume, carried by the wind. It smelled of springtime, and of happier times. The sandy-color haired man could almost feel Johanna’s hand, soft and delicate, slip into a steadying grip with his own calloused digits, as though preparing to go on a walk down to the general store. Running in front of them, of course, was their little ginger-haired girl, Rosemarie. The aroma and the vision both disappeared almost instantaneously, replaced instead by another, much harsher gust of wind.

The warm and sand-flecked Arizona winds continued to hit the kind-eyed man’s face with annoying persistence. Had his mind not been so focused on his hand hovering nervously by his holster like a fly uncertain of it’s forthcoming landing, he might have flinched. Gabriel could vaguely hear the uneasy murmur of the crowd over the whistle of the wind. For a fleeting moment that whistling turned into a scream, and in his mind he could see them. Johanna and his daughter were screaming. Gabriel’s own body was sprawled unceremoniously on the ground, seeping small, yet steady, crimson rivers. The taste of copper was in his mouth; he shuddered. Somewhere in that vision, a cruel laugh rang out just as harshly as the bell that beckoned them to shoot. It was the triumphant chuckle of Lee Matthews.

The hallucination left Gabriel just as soon as he felt a bead of sweat, brought on by the burning sun, make a path slowly down his left temple. The drop of moisture crept as slowly as the hand of the clock counting down to his fate. It wouldn’t be long now. The impromptu audience’s attention was split between the giant clock tower, fast approaching noon, and the men in the street. The droplet of perspiration rolled into Gabriel’s mouth, providing a brief yet salty relief to his parched lips. However, it was no respite from the blazing desert sun hanging ominously, like a blade over his head. That same sun cast dramatic silhouettes of the men standing at the ready, though the shadows threatened to disappear once the great glowing orb reached it’s highest point. One of those men, would disappear just the same as his shadow.

Suddenly, a crescendo of noise invaded the eerie quiet of the usually busy city road. The ornate minute-hand of the prominent clock tower struck twelve, accompanied by the customary tolling of the bells. For Gabriel, that familiar sound had always faded almost completely out of his awareness. Hearing how ear-splittingly loud it seemed now, however, it was a wonder he could have ever ignored it before. The pervasive clamor paled in comparison to what followed.

Both men drew their guns as soon as the reverberations in their ears could be interpreted as the cue to fire their pistols. Two shots shook the air, the noises occurring almost simultaneously. For a brief instant Gabriel thought that he might live to see another day. Just as soon as he’d dared this optimism, all hope was erased from his heart. Perhaps the lead lodged in his chest was to blame for the loss of this sunny disposition. Gabriel’s vision blurred, and as his knees hit the unyielding ground beneath him, he clenched his eyes shut.

There, projected on the back of his eyelids, he saw little Rosemarie. She smiled, and he heard her whisper, “I love you, Daddy.”

Then, there was only darkness.