| DEATH RUN Skye Fargo didn't like to turn tail
and run. but he did like to live. And with his gun empty and the savage Blood
warriors full of rage, he had no choice.
He raced up the mountainside. He heard angry yells. A shout
louder than the rest rang out. The Bloods were on his trail.
Fargo poured on the speed. He was outrunning them. Then his left
foot came down on a rock that gave way. Desperately he tried to regain his
footing--but he kept falling. He landed on his back.
In a blink of an eye Fargo was on his hands and knees. He was rising
to his feet. footsteps sounded. he started to whirl but was too late.
Something swept out of the night and struck him flush on the forehead, and his head
exploded into a million white pinpoints of light.
The good news was that the blow hadn't killed Fargo. The bad news
was that he was in the hands of Indians who could make death seem sweet.... |
RASCOMB'S
RAIDERS Skye
Fargo had heard about Rascomb and his gang, but this was the first time he had seen them
in action. They were on horseback, fanned out around an unarmed farmer.
"How many times do I have to tell you the same thing?"
Rascomb snarled. "This isn't your land." He snickered.
"Maybe we should show you what we mean, huh, boys?"
Some of them cackled, and one, Crane, bent down to grab hold of the farmer's
collar.
Fargo only had to take a step, seize Crane's arm, then heave.
Crane flew from the saddle like an ungainly bird and smacked into the earth with a dull
thud. Fargo took another step and swung the tip of his toe into Crane's chin as the
man started to rise.
Venting a snarl, one of the other riders began to lift his shotgun.
Fargo was faster. Pivoting, he had his Colt out and trained on the
rider before the man could level his weapon.
Skye's message was short and sweet. "Go on, friend, if you want
to die." |
