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The town was quiet, most of the stores boarded up or closed, a thick layer of dust seemingly covering everything in sight. Sun glinted off the sand, and Bed lowered his head, letting his hat shade his eyes. Few people roamed the streets, but that was usual for the afternoon, and Bed knew exactly where they would find their mark.
“So what’s the plan? Are we busting in there, guns a’ blazing?” Buck leaned over from his horse, using his shoulder to nudge Bed and reminding Bed why he liked to work alone. Buck had an expectant smile on his face and Bed knew he wouldn’t stop bugging him until he answered.
“We aren’t even sure if he’s in there,” Bed lied. He had been staking this place out for weeks, stalking this man, knew for certain that he went here on Sunday afternoons for drinks. Rango was wanted for bank robbery, murder, and arson, and Criken knew that Bed was the one that could bring him in, hopefully alive. The money was usually better that way. Criken also knew that Bed didn’t need any help, so why Buck was assigned to shadow Bed for his first mission was beyond him. Rango was a regular, run of the mill bandit, and Bed had done this a million times.
“Ah, so we’re undercover,” Buck gestured, pulling his bandana over his mouth and slouching in his saddle. Bed rolled his eyes as he pulled his hat even lower. If they even made it to the saloon without being recognized it would be a miracle. Buck’s middle name wasn’t exactly camouflage, with his striped poncho and pinto mustang. Wasn’t his fault, but Jerry wasn’t a horse to blend in with. Bed couldn’t say anything though, with his white hat and palomino steed. They rode on at a loose rein, Bed scanning window fronts, watching as people quickly closed curtains as they passed, caught in the act of spying back. Bed returned his eyes front, swaying in time as they walked down the street.
The sign was faded and rusty but still swung in the breeze as they approached. “The Tombstone Saloon,” Buck read, and they stopped underneath it, dismounting in sync.
“Remember, follow my lead,” Bed whispered as they tied their horses up at the post. “I don’t want to carry two bodies back.” Buck laughed, the sound carrying through the empty streets. Buck didn’t seem to notice.
“Don’t worry about me.” He sounded strangely confident and Bed raised his eyebrows before walking up to the doors.
“You know what?” Bed paused, his hands hovering at the doors. “Why don’t you lead this then?”
“Really?” Buck’s eyes lit up, and Bed felt a twinge of guilt for not letting Buck do his own thing earlier.
“Yeah, I’ll be your back-up.” Bed took a step back, letting Buck push his way through the double doors first.
Music floated from the piano in the corner, mixing into the smoke-filled air like bubbles. Their eyes adjusted quickly, and Bed felt his heart drop as he realized just how many of Rango’s men filled the bar. He quickly scanned the space, spotting Rango taking a shot. Bed swallowed hard.
“Rango!” Buck screamed over the noise of the saloon and the place instantly went quiet. He felt Buck freeze up as Rango slowly turned in his seat. Bed pushed Buck forward a little, reminding him that it’s all good, he’s got this.
“Who’s askin’?” He tilted his chin up at the pair and Buck strutted himself over, Bed following close behind. They were almost arm’s length away at this point, and Bed was surprised how composed Buck still was.
“The Rowdy Boys, that’s who,” Buck answered with a snark, and Rango burst out laughing. Bed could hear laughter all around them.
“Your gang’s got no law here,” Rango smiled, taking another shot.
“You’re a wanted man Rango,” Buck threatened, drawing his gun. Bed could hear a good ten more guns draw around them.
“You’re a little young to be carrying a gun that big, boy.” Rango didn’t even look at Buck, but Buck growled, cocking his gun in anger.
“Buck,” Bed hissed. “Bad idea. Put it away.” Buck froze, his arm steady as he aimed at Rango, and ten more men aimed at Buck. Bed inched forward, slowly touching Buck’s arm. With a sigh, Buck holstered his gun, and the whole room seemed to breathe.
“At least your friend here is smart,” Rango mused, turning his chair once again to face the two. “Run along now,” Rango smiled, and Bed turned away, grabbing Buck’s hand to head towards the door.
“Let’s go,” Bed huffed taking a step before Rango spoke again.
“Keep your bitch on a shorter leash next time,” Rango spat. In one swift movement, Bed paused, grabbing Buck’s gun and spun on his heels, shooting Rango in the forehead. Blood splattered onto his hand and onto his white boots, and he raised the gun to his mouth, blowing away the smoke.
“Holy shit,” Buck breathed. The whole bar seemed frozen before hell broke loose. Buck grabbed the bar stool that Rango had fallen from, smashing it on the first man that rushed him. Bed tossed Buck back his gun as people began to shoot. Neither of them wanted to be caught in that crossfire. Bed grabbed a pool stick cracking it over the head of some poor bandits that tried to come at him before shooting the next ones. Bed spun as a man raised their gun but a flying glass hit their head, and Bed saw Buck standing on the bar, chucking beer bottles.
“Grab Rango!” Bed yelled over the commotion, watching Buck pistol whipping the bar keep. Buck nodded, jumping down and grabbing Rango’s feet. Bed ducked a person being thrown through a table as he made his way to Buck, helping him drag the body out, leaving a trail of blood through the swinging doors. Someone flew through the window and Bed heaved the body over his horse’s saddle.
“What happened to undercover?” Buck smirked as they untied their horses, quickly swinging onto their mounts.
“Oh shut up,” Bed laughed, steering out of town. They galloped out of town, finally resting when they were sure they weren’t being followed. The sun was hot again, and both them and their horses were sweating in the heat. Buck removed his hat, fanning himself.
“You did good Buck,” Bed praised after a long silence.
“Really?” Buck glanced over, his dark eyes sparkling. Bed snorted.
“Good for your first mission as a bounty hunter. Don’t let it get to your head.”
“I won’t.” Buck beamed, closing his eyes. Criken was right, Bed thought. This kid was special.