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Bourbon On The Rocks #244


I only had two bullets in Striker’s gun, so I had to make them count. I pulled the pistol out from the holster under my arm.

“Okay, Diamond. Where’s Milton?”

Diamond and the other man turned. The other man had what looked like a .45 in his hand. He raised it up. I was tired of risking my life for these assholes so I shot the guy through the neck. He fell over and expired. And I felt nothing.

I pointed the gun at Diamond. “Where’s Milton? I won’t ask again.”

He gestured down below the bluff, “See for yourself.”

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