ROCKY MOUNTAIN RULES
"It's time I taught
you a lesson," Wainwright said, raising his fists. "I was captain of the
Yale boxing team two years running."
"Who the hell cares?" Fargo responded, and charged.
A minute later, Fargo started caring. He was battered and
back-pedaling, dodging punches. Then one in the gut doubled him over. Before
he could take another step, a hammer seemed to slam into the side of his head.
Bright pinpoints of swirling lights danced in front of his eyes. His knees buckled.
Wainwright snickered. "cretin. I knew this would be no
contest."
It was time Fargo taught the Boston big mouth how the game was played in
the West--to win.... |
TORTURE TIME Skye Fargo figured that when Delgado
was a kid, he must have picked wings off flies. Now Delgado was bigger and badder,
and Fargo was the one in his hands.
"I could have shot you from ambush as easy as squashing a bug,"
Delgado said. "But why do that , I asked myself, when I could make you suffer."
"Let me guess," croaked Fargo through cracked lips, straining
against the ropes that hogtied him. "You aim to dump me in this desert without
food or water."
"You are a smart man." Delgado smirked as he took a long
pull at his water bag. He let water trickle out of his mouth so Fargo could see it.
"And I have another surprise as well. But I don't want to spoil
it."
Fargo was willing to wait to find out what that "surprise"
was. But he knew he wouldn't be able to. The savage sun was rising fast, and
the Trailsman's chances were sinking even faster.... |
