The night was still young, distant laughing and music streaming in through a cracked window. On the bed in the room were two bodies, one sprawled out and snoring softly while the other sat at the edge of the bed, smoking a cigarette, the smoke dancing through the heavy and humid air of the room.

The man glanced over his shoulder at the snoring man behind him, frowning slightly. What a disappointment.

With a sigh, he rose from the bed, crushing the cigarette in an ashtray on the bedside table before running a hand through his blond hair. This had been such a waste of time, and money for that part, he had been the one who ended up paying for the room after all. Affording it was no problem but it annoyed him, he had gotten absolutely nothing from this encounter.

You win some, you lose some, that was just life but it didn't change the fact that he hated losing, he absolutely hated it.

Another sigh escaped the man, more annoyed now, the more time he spent thinking about it, the more frustrated he felt. He had to get out of here, had to distract himself with something or someone else.

It didn't take much time for the young man to get dressed, pulling on a pair of dark jeans, putting on a light blue cotton shirt, doing up the buttons with quick fingers and tucking in the shirt. Once done, he put on his belt and gun holster, giving his pistol a once over before putting on his boots and jacket. Finally he looked over at the man on the bed one last time while grabbing his hat and putting it on his head.

The other man’s clothes were right there, surely there was something worth money to be found? No, it was a bad idea, the blond had stopped in this town to relax a few days, stealing a few dollars, at most, just because he was annoyed at this stranger wouldn't help him, it would just mean having to get back on the trail a few days earlier than he had planned to.

After a another moment of consideration, weighting his options back and forth, the blond gave the bed a light kick, and then he turned on his heel and left the room with a worse mood than when he had entered it.

~~~

“Elliot? Thought you’d left for the night boy, join us for a game will ya?” A voice called out not long after the man by the name Elliot had entered the saloon for the second time that evening.

“Had some business to tend to, you know how it is,” Elliot chuckled as he made his way over to the table, patting the shoulder of the man who had spoken to him before taking a seat and tossing some money on the table.

The town was small, further away from the bigger towns, the once were Elliot would find wanted posters with his face hung up in all kinds of inconvenient places, and, surprisingly enough, friendly to strangers. He hadn't been planning on stopping anywhere, but he was still recovering from taking a bullet to the shoulder not too long ago, and Lakota, his mare, had seemed tired and in need of rest so Eli had decided they could stay, especially since it had been a long time since he'd seen any signs of someone being after them.

“Your turn boy.”

The blond glanced down at his cards before grinning ever so slightly and pushing a small tower of chips towards the middle of the table, “Raise.”

Playing cards was a great pass time, it was a nice way to wind down and get his mind off the earlier disappointment of this evening. No, instead of dwelling on that, or worry about law men and bounty hunters, he would have a calm evening and empty the pockets on some men twice his age. Playing cards was easy after all, you weren't even playing cards, it didn't matter what you had on hand, all that mattered was the ability to read and play the other people.

He didn't need the money, he had just done a job further down in the country with a few fellers he knew since some years back. Whenever he was around their parts, he would join up with them for some weeks, do a job or two, and get back on the trails. This time they had robbed a train, getting a good amount of money to fill their own pockets, and a couple nice valuables, one of which he now carried in his jean pocket, a gold pocket watch. It was just temporary, he hadn't gotten around to selling it yet.

The job had gone well, as simple and easy as train robbery gets really, that was until one of the people on the train had decided to play hero, firing at them and luckily for Eli, the man had been a terrible shoot, only managing to hit his shoulder.

“Ready to fold now, are ya?”

Elliot looked over at the man across from him, and then glanced at his cards, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips before he managed to mask it.

“No, let’s keep this going a little,” he said as he pushed some chips towards the middle once more, noting the slightest hint of insecurity in the man’s eyes.

The man that had shoot him on the train was dead now, of course, but Eli was left with a nasty wound and a painful shoulder, it was getting better, but that didn't mean it bothered him any less.

It had caused such a commotion too, a train robbery was bad enough but add a few dead bodies and you had half the county sweeping the place for the people responsible. If people would just learn there places, there would have been much less blood on that train, but oh well.

Once the law men had started snooping a bit too closely, the blond had packed his stuff and ran, like he always did, almost slipping away without any problems, if it hadn't been for those two bounty hunters looking for a quick pay out. It was safe to say that they didn't get one, nor would they ever again, but after that encounter, Eli had picked up speed to get out of there and that was how he had ended up in this town after a few days spent running.

A thick layer of dust seemed to lie upon every surface of the town like a suffocating blanket. Kieran grimaced and ran his palm over his face yet again, swiping away the gritty dirt that rubbed abrasively against his skin. Night had long since fallen, and the small town was poorly lit; only a few lamps burned dimly along the pockmarked main street. Kieran found himself peering aimlessly into the darkness from his position along the treeline.

A few blurry figures drifted between the lamps, but they were sucked up into the vast darkness before Kieran could ever get a good look at them. He knew he’d have to move into town to get a better idea of what he was dealing with, but the thought gave him pause. Small towns like this were always more difficult to work with; their residents tended to be more close-knit and often closed ranks at the first sight of a suspicious outsider.

Kieran sighed and turned to Onyx. The mare dozed against a nearby tree, and she snorted softly as Kieran deftly untangled her reins from a low branch. “Sorry, girl,” he murmured quietly. With Onyx in tow, he stepped carefully from the treeline, scanning his surroundings intently before heading for the town’s boundary.

Calling it a town was generous, to be frank. From his position, Kieran had been able to identify a saloon, a general store, and a run-down stable at the edge of town. The rest of the scant few buildings looked to be homes or other miscellaneous businesses. The place made him uneasy; he was much more used to operating in cities or larger towns where he could simply disappear into crowds to avoid attracting attention. Tonight, he was going to have to be much more careful.

His hand drifted into the pocket of his jacket as he walked, fingers tracing the worn paper tucked inside. He’d plucked the flyer from a notice board a few towns back. It was certainly helpful to put a face to a name, and the flyer’s presence meant that the nearby towns were on high alert. He wouldn’t have been surprised if his target had been spotted in the vicinity recently.

Kieran’s boots crunched against the ground as he stepped onto the dried mud that made up the town’s main street. Wrinkling his nose, he picked his way carefully through the road’s many potholes until he stood before the general store. He doubted he’d be lucky enough to run into his target inside, but he needed to stock up on supplies, and he hoped that the store owner might have some gossip to share with him.

Slipping Onyx’s reins onto the hitching post outside, Kieran stepped onto the store’s porch, the rotted boards creaking loudly beneath his feet. The door swung open with a squeal and the soft tinkle of a bell overhead as he ducked inside. The shop owner behind the counter only spared him a brief glance before returning to the item catalogue before him, twirling a worn-down pencil between his fingers.

Kieran wandered towards the shelves lining the back wall of the store. He had plenty of ammunition and medical supplies shoved in his saddlebags, but his food stores were beginning to run low. He plucked a few sachets of dried meat from the shelves, and after a few moments of deliberation, grabbed a can of fruit as well. It was a luxury he could hardly afford, but he was getting tired of eating stringy, painfully dry jerky for every meal.

He took his purchases to the counter, where the clerk finally turned his attention to him fully. He eyed Kieran warily, evidently cautious of the stranger in his shop. Kieran gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Just these.” He fished a few bills from his pocket and slid them across the wooden grain of the counter. Glancing up from the small stack of money, he held the shopkeeper’s gaze for a moment before sliding several more bills to him.

The clerk straightened, pulling the bills towards him and counting through them quickly. “You looking for somebody?”

Kieran blinked. “I am. How did you know?”

The man shrugged. “You’ve got that look about you.” He tucked the money beneath the counter and folded his hands before him. “Maybe I can help you out. Point you in the right direction or something.”

Kieran glanced behind him surreptitiously; the shop was still empty aside from him and the owner. He pulled the flyer from its pocket and spread it flat on the counter before the shopkeeper.

Elliott Dunn. Though the reward on the flyer was nothing to scoff at, the sum that Kieran’s client had offered him far surpassed it. The widow of a man killed by Dunn during a train robbery, she had inherited the entirety of his impressive fortune, and had decided to use it to exact revenge on her husband’s murderer. For the amount that she was providing, Kieran was more than happy to help.

The shopkeeper scanned the flyer for several moments before shaking his head. “Sorry. Haven’t seen him around.”

Kieran’s heart sank. He’d been certain he was right on Dunn’s trail. He tucked the flyer back into his pocket, gathered his purchases, and turned towards the door. “Thanks anyway.”

Onyx whinnied at him as he stepped back onto the shop’s porch. “I guess we’re hitting the road again,” he told her glumly, tucking his newly purchased supplies into her saddlebags.

As he adjusted her saddle, preparing to swing back into his seat, the sound of voices from across the road reached his ears. He glanced up to see that he was directly across from the town’s saloon. It was a small, run-down building with a sagging porch, but it seemed busy; a steady stream of patrons passed through the doors, laughing raucously and talking in boisterous tones.

One drink before he headed out wouldn’t hurt, Kieran reasoned. His lack of leads in town had put him in a bad mood, and perhaps it would cheer him up. He patted Onyx’s neck gently. “Be back in a minute.” With that, he hurried across the street, up the groaning porch steps, and through the double doors of the saloon.