The Outlaw, The Gambler & Persuasion

Digging Our Graves

((Credit for the book cover goes to me! Also, I had to use A LOT of Google Translate for most of Vasquez's Spanish phrases so if I didn't say it right, I'm really sorry and if you want, you can comment down the right way to say it. But please don't be mean about it. Thanks!))

The church bell sounds off as a warning to birds flying overhead for its last time before another parade of bullets ruins the beautiful spring air outside of Rose Creek. If it wasn't for the army of Blackstones raining down on the small town and its farming civilians with their leader, Bartholomew Bogue, staring at the scene from afar with a damn Gatling gun as a cowardly ambush, today would've been a beautiful day to go out for a ride on a horse, or maybe a swim in the streams.

Inside the church, men were lying flat on their backs and stomachs, guns were clutched by bloody white knuckles, flies flew above their heads, waiting to snack on open flesh with the sun starting to lower as the afternoon drags on. No one dared to look out the window, in fear of any gun ready to strike at the sight of a head peeking out, and if they weren't dead, they were most likely injured. No one walks away from the Devil's Breath unharmed.

Vasquez was ordering harshly for more ammo, yelling in his native tongue while favoring his right arm that he injured when he didn't get down fast enough when the Gatling gun went off, "¡Àndale ¡Àndale!"

He dares himself to look over and see if his lovers were still with him and sure enough, both his Irish gambler and his persuasive cowgirl were sitting side by side, clutching their open wounds while still loading their weapons and staying low and out of sight of the windows. Matilda had blood running down the left side of her shiny and exhausted face, a dirty bruise was smeared just above her cheekbone on the right side. Faraday was sweating just as profusely, his only visible injury was on the right side of his torso, the red clothing indicating the spot where he was shot by McCan, who met his own fate when Vasquez had come storming out of the church a few moments later, firing upon him until he fell dead into a coffin in a fit of rage.

Goodnight was not far away and had his arm around Billy after he had dragged him down to the ground to avoid the Gatling gun. Vasquez couldn't find a window of opportunity to shoot, since the damn automatic was still going, digging rounds after rounds of bullets into wood and flesh alike.

Suddenly, the rain of bullets stop. There's a moment of silence before Goodnight is on his feet to make sure no one else decided to get up,

"They're reloading! Stay down! Stay down!"

"Get down!" Billy ordered.

Faraday considers to stay low before he hears high-pitched screaming from a nearby building and he lets out a small gasp, "The children," he goes running out, not ever looking back. Billy stands just outside the doorway to provide him cover, shooting at any stray Blackstone's with his rifle, Faraday also shooting them as he runs off to help Sam with the children.

"Get down against the wall, come on!" Vasquez orders from inside the church. Himself, Matilda, Billy, and Goodnight were the only ones on their feet, quickly trying to recover enough ammo amongst other things. Matilda makes it her duty to drag the dead bodies out of the way of their path to the only exit of the building, forcing herself not to cough when she caught the scent of rotting flesh.

"Cariño," she looks up to see Vasquez walk up to her, cupping her face as he examined the huge cut on the side of her head, wiping some of the blood away with his thumb. She had earned that nasty cut from a close encounter with a Blackstone and the butt of a pistol. The outlaw was examining her injury with a worried look, his lips curved downward while his eyes widen, his eyebrows furrow.