The blazing gunfight ended a few moments ago. Cindy-Anne and Darby sit on a small hill, smoke cigarettes, while trying to catch their breath, and silently scour the bodies spread out all over the property in relief. Young Darby purses his lips, puffs a big O, and breaks the blaring silence.
Cindy-Anne, you're going to be the death of me, you do know that? You're lucky I showed up when I did.
Whatever, Darby. I was doing just fine before you came and ruined my fun. I had it under control.
Under control, alright. Billy Watson was about five seconds away from blowing that pretty little head of yours clean off those pretty little shoulders. Missed that part, did ya? Well, I'm sure glad he did.
Pfft, Billy Watson. I made dear ol' Billy boy think he had the upper hand, that's all. I was about to make my move.
Yeah, yeah...like last time, right?
Like last time, right? Blah..bluh..blah...Shut up, will ya? I told you a thousand times, since I was old enough to pick up this revolver, that I can handle myself. You, for some reason, can't seem to believe or accept that. Look around, as I beg to differ.
Well, Cindy-Anne... you might want to start handling how you're getting out of this mess. I reckon you'd better start packing up that horse of yours and get the hell away from Crowfoot Creek. Billy's Pa finds out what happened, he's bound to run you down and kill you for what you did to his only boy. I'm good. I shot one person. But you shot everybody else. Nobody knows I'm here. You, however. You have worn on your sleeve for weeks your intentions. Everybody knows you wanted to kill all of them dead-laying souls by week's end, especially Billy. So, come on, get up. Let's get you packed up.
Wait... I ain't doing shit, Darby. You can forget that real quick. And, I'm damn well ain't going anywhere. Like you said, everybody knew I wanted that piece of shit dead. I'm happy he's over there after bleeding out like a stuck pig. I can't remember the last time I was this happy to tell you the truth. Going to take a piss on him too before I'm done. Damn, this cig is gooooood, you roll this yourself, Darby? Or did your Ma?
Now, Cindy-Anne, I mean it.
Now, what? That entire family deserves to die by my gun. His father, especially. Actually, I'd like to gut him, braid his shit-shoot, and tie a bow at the end. Yeah... a little red one.
Jesus, Cindy-Anne.
Jesus what?... My Ma and Pa would still be tending the farm over there if it weren't for the Watson clan. You know that. Better than anybody, Darby. His bastard posse is as guilty for what went on here that day. None of them killers deserves any ounce of mercy. From nobody, and definitely not from me. I want them all to suffer in ways that have flashed and played out in my subconscious as I tried to drift asleep these past couple of weeks. The closer to today I got, the better I slept.
But, Cindy-Anne. You barely survived. God knows what would have happened if I were second late. Admit it. We got lucky... You got lucky.
Luck had not one God-dang thing to do with it. Leave him out of it. God. Where was he when my parents were pleading with him? For their farm, for their livelihood, for their lives. I had it figured out... I did, not God.
Look. I will give you the highest haystack of credit for how you lured them, boys, here. And, up until Billy was pointing his rifle directly at your head while you lay prone on the ground under him, you were holding your own. You killed twelve men. Twelve cold-blooded killers. But if I didn't put Billy down when I did. If Lucy girl over there didn't haul ass and get me here in time, Billy would have sent you on your own ride. Straight to the grave with your parents and real quick like.
I told you. I had a plan. He's dead, isn't he?
Yup, he is dead. But how are you supposed to take on Hutch Watson's crew? This time, it was twelve men and Billy. Hutch has a whole army and then some. Not to mention, he has everyone, and I mean everyone in the whole dang county tucked tightly in his back pocket. You'll never have a moment's rest from this point forward. This is bad, Cindy-Anne. Real bad. He won't stop.
Won't stop, eh? Well... I might be shooting from the hip here, Darby, but you know what?
... I'm not stopping either.