The trip into town for supplies was long, but living on the plains of the Texas panhandle was better than living in town. My wife and daughter felt safe being far from the dangerous town and the outlaws that I once chased. I am retired U.S. Marshall James Anderson and after spending the better part of my life chasing, and bringing outlaws to justice, my time for life had begun. It had been five years of unsurpassed happiness until that catastrophic day three months ago. That day I was in town getting supplies, and gang of outlaws burned down my home, killed my wife, and kidnapped my daughter. I was left with no other choice. As I came out of retirement, this U.S. Marshall was stopping at nothing to get my daughter back and kill the man who took her, and her mother. This outlaw was Sanchez. As the gang leader, he gave the orders and he will be the one to pay. It is not going to be easy; I am going to need courage, perseverance, quick wit, and a lot of ammunition. Standing in the middle of a dry, cracked dirt road littered with cactus and tumbleweeds, the outlaw Sanchez is just a silhouette dressed in black. An Apache styled poncho covers his six-shooter, as he stands motionless, as if prey trapped by a cat. Sanchez now faces his most challenging moment in his life. As the wind picks up his poncho is blown across his back revealing his right arm arched and poised ready to strike like a steel jaw trap. His left arm was rigid, hanging just slightly off his hip. The sun was perched low in the horizon throwing its orange-yellow glow across the sky. It shadowed the outlaw’s facial expression and stretched his shadow until he appeared ten feet tall. He leaned to his right, maybe to get the edge, waiting, anticipating, looking for the slightest movement; can this outlaw be fast enough, or will I receive the justice I deserve. ...
