As soon as he saw me, he ran, Sam sprinted down the town street. It took me long enough to find the bastard, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna let him get away. I hurried after him. Sam ran out of the town, onto the dust covered plains. I pulled my revolver out and shot him in the leg. He collapsed and turned around with a gun in his hand. Sam fired and the bullet struck me in the shoulder. I fired at his hand blowing off his thumb. He shouted in pain, and then began to crawl away.
I walked down the dusty road, with the pistol in my right hand. The closer I got to him the more desperately he attempted to crawl away. Blood ran down my arm and a smile slowly crept over my face as I knew: this was it; this was the moment I would avenge my son’s death. A look of pure terror was stuck on Sam’s face as he turned back his head to see how close I was. As soon as I was close enough I slammed my foot onto his leg, directly where I shot him before. He grimaced in pain.
“You shoulda taken a better shot Sam.” I said as my body became energetic in that moment. My grip on the revolver tightened and the moonlight lit the area.
“Jim I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m so sorry for takin your boy from you!” Sam whimpered. I examined hisface. Tears trickled down from it steadily as he quivered with fear. He deserved nothing, not my pity, normy forgiveness.
“Sam, you’re sorry that you’re gonna die. If you felt one true bit of remorse, you’d of saidsomething about it, after you did what you did.” I said as I puffed the rolled cig in my mouth. The smokedrifted into the air and was scattered by a gust of wind.
“I thought it was necessary Jim! He saw what happened and-“
“You thought it was necessary to take the life of an 8 year old boy? What would he have done? I don’t need your bullshit excuses Sam! What I need, is to finally see you dead!” I shouted.
“Don’t kill me Jim! Please, for Christ sake! I’ll change, I’ll fucking change!” Sam sobbed. I pinned him to the ground and forced the gun into the palm of his hand.
“Put the gun in your mouth and pull the trigger.” I said. “W-what?” He stammered. “Do it.” I commanded. My hand still over his, I felt him try to aim it at me. I stared into his eyes and they quickly lost the glimmer of any hope. He slowly put the metal cylinder in his mouth. He shut his eyes and cried as he slowly began to apply pressure. His hand shook and his eyes opened. He looked at me one last time and at the sight of my grim expression he knew he had no other option. His eyes closed and tears streamed down his face. He pulled the trigger and the shot echoed across the barren wasteland. His head fell back and his arms went limp. I felt at ease as I grabbed my pistol from his hand. I put it into my holster and when I turned around I saw a man holding a gun. He had a Sheriff’s badge on his jacket, but judging by his shaking hand on the gun he was new to the job. I reached for my gun and he shook his gun at me.