Stranglehold

At that moment all hell broke loose. Both interlopers started shooting. The stable was filled with gun thunder and spurting muzzle flame. Kelf flowed into action with his customary speed, firing a shot before his gun barely cleared its holster. The nearest man, holding the can, was hit as he squeezed off his first shot. He jerked and buckled at the knees, struck dead centre by Kelf's deadly shooting. Wreathed in gun smoke, his gun spilled from his hand and he sprawled on the ground, jerking spasmodically. Thompson stepped level with Kelf, thrust his shot gun forward and squeezed the trigger. The long gun blasted like a cannon and the second man seemed to fade away, blood spurting from multiple wounds caused by the whirling load of buckshot. He went down like a leaf blowing in a storm.

© 2017 Robert Hale Fiction (Rafbók): 9780719822179

Útgáfudagur

Rafbók: 1 maj 2017