The Murder of Winston Bounds

"The Murder of Winston Bounds"
by Graeme Olsen

AN EXCERPT:
"Nothing but horse thieves and blood-thirsty orphans in this town, I swear," mumbled Charlie.

"A little harsh," laughed Wyatt. "Just be thankful there's a collar around your neck and not a noose."

"Yeah, thanks for not letting me sleep vertically tonight."

Wyatt handed Charlie the reins and helped him onto the other horse. Charlie held his arm. It had stopped bleeding, but the veins still didn't feel like they connected. Not much of Charlie actually did. His whole body ached. He could feel his own feet falling off his legs, he thought. His boots felt like warm jail cells.

"Always my pleasure. Never seen much truth in lawful death anyhow. I'm may be in the business of shooting, but I'm not in the business of killing," shrugged Wyatt.

"Not many cowboys that don't think their gun talks too much."

"Well, you know me, I'm the silent, ungodly type," Wyatt said with a smirk. He rubbed his chin and squinted. Wyatt himself wasn't even sure if he was looking into the distance or the future. They both had a long journey ahead.

The two horses walked slowly through the plains as the two gunslingers carried very different postures: one proud, one slouched.

"These prairies will make mighty fine homesteads one day, just you wait," Wyatt said with a smile.

"I suppose a man has to sleep somewhere," shrugged Charlie. "But for now, we've got a bigger problem."

"Ah yes," Wyatt said with a sly grin, "the mysterious evening murder of the outlaw Winston Bounds. What a fine mess this shall be. I'd like our tombstones to be built here instead of homesteads should our hearts give out from a spectacular loss of blood."

"I'm the only one burying me," Charlie said in harsh breaths.

Wyatt took in what Charlie mumbled, laughed to himself, shrugged and said, "You know, Charlie, that gash may also be a head wound."

"Har har," Charlie said with a forced chuckle. "Now, let's go find the three men that killed Winston Bounds and kidnapped Mary."

"I'd say that hole in your arm is a good place to start digging," laughed Wyatt.

"No," Charlie said with a serious tone, "save your strength for graves. We'll need three."