It Happened in a Stormy Night

1. A Stormy Night

"A good feeling not to be dead," Rango thought and stretched his body exuberantly.
It was rather late and the city was almost half asleep. Even in the saloon the lights had gone out a long time ago. The night was starry, however outside it was far from pleasant. Since noon, a strong wind had blown over the area and had even intensified during the evening. Shivering, Rango pushed his shirt collar higher when a strong gust of wind made him shudder.
"Well, better a strong, unpleasant wind than dead," he said softly to himself. He was glad still breathing fresh air. "But it's even nicer in a warm bed."
With that in mind, he marched over to the sheriff's office, tore the door open quickly and closed it again as the wind blew all the sand into the room. After checking the windows, he got ready himself for the night. He doffed his boots, got undressed his shirt, jacket and pants, until he was only wearing his underwear. Then he washed his face and hands and crawled into bed. The bedside lamp stood beside him on a small table. He had no desire to read anything or anything like that today. As soon as he had prayed his head on the pillow, he immediately put out the light. With a deep sigh, he threw himself on his side and cuddled himself with comfort in the blanket.
Sometimes there was nothing better than being safe and content in the evening in a warm bed. He smiled mischievously. Preferably even as a couple, but unfortunately Beans was not in the city today, but at home on her ranch. After another deep breath, he relaxed his body, waiting to wander into the land of dreams finally where he could escape the reality for a moment. Who knows what he would dream this time.
His mental awareness to the environment blurred slowly and he saw images forming in his mind's eye. Suddenly he was horrified. Tired, he opened his eyes, but all what he was hearing was a strong gust of wind only, which was howling around the house. He yawned loudly. Quickly he closed his eyes again, so as not to miss the connection to his started sleep until he was fully awake. But then something caused him again to descend from the dream train.
He rested the elbows on the pillow. Somehow, he thought he had heard something outside, which did not sound so typical of the wind. It even sounded very distant. Like carried by the wind.
He closed his eyes and listened intently. Had he imagined it, or were there shots? He listened attentively to the silence again, but the sound seemed to have disappeared. Now only the wind was heard.
Again he had to yawn. Had he only dreamt? But it had not seemed like a dream. It had sounded like real. He could not have dreamed that, could he? He had heard gunfire the last few days. Also his own if he did shooting practice. Did the sound stick in his ears now?
Muttering, he lay on his back and closed his eyes again. But after a few minutes, he sighed and sat up again. The uncertainty did not give him any peace. And as a sheriff, it was his duty to make sure everything in the area was in order. And so, he stood up, though he thought it nonsense, knotted his clothes, nearly forgot to strap his revolver belt, and opened the door. Immediately the unpleasant, disgusting wind came towards him. After a nice sleep in bed, the wind outside was the purest cold shower.
Grumpily, he went outside, closed the door behind him, and walked up the street. Sullenly he stopped. How was he supposed to find out, if someone had fired, if he did not know where the avoidable shots came from? He looked around. Everything seemed the same as always. Except that this wind stirred up a lot of sand and made the road to an uncomfortable place to stay.
"Idiot," he mumbled. "Who should be outside at this time? Even with such weather? "
Then he had an idea. If he had heard the shots, then they must have come from the direction where the wind blew. Otherwise, he would hardly have heard them clearly. He wrapped his arms around his body, as it was getting cold and marched in the direction of the wind, passing through a side street that led him to the edge of the city. He gritted his teeth as another strong gust blew in his face and regretted that he left his bed.
With blinking eyes, he tried to see something in the darkness. But all he could see was swirling sand on the ground and a night without light. The moon was the only one that gave some light at least, but only so little that Rango could not possibly have seen anything in the distance. He growled softly.
"Why me?"
Because you are the sheriff.
Sullen, Rango went straight ahead. As a precaution, he took his revolver and walked away meter by meter from the city. Could not he have taken a lantern? Damn, he had forgotten that.
He was startled when suddenly a huge shadow appeared in front of him. With a beating heart he breathed with relief when he realized that it was just a big cactus.
He shook his head disapprovingly.
"No reason to be afraid," he blamed himself.
He looked around. Behind the cactus, more cacti appeared. But no person or any other living thing was there.
"Tzs, ridiculous," he mumbled. "Totally ridiculous. I think your imagination runs riot."
Nevertheless, he circled the cacti and searched the environment again.
"Why didn't I ... AH!"
Startled, he backed away as his foot had touched something odd which didn't feel like a stone.
The sudden burst of adrenaline had made him wide awake now. With staring wide eyes and shaking hands, he looked ahead. The weapon ready to fire.
"Who is there?" He asked firmly.
But the creature, who lay on the floor next to the cactus, did not move.
A corpse, a corpse, it flashed through his mind. You found a corpse!