He twisted aside and brought up the rifle in his hands. Metal rang against metal as the Winchester’s barrel deflected the knife aimed at his throat. The Apache crashed into him, driving him off his feet. The Kid managed to hang on to the rifle as he rolled over. Levering the Winchester, he swung the muzzle toward the warrior, who had leaped agilely back to his feet. Flame stabbed into the darkness as the Winchester blasted. The Kid saw the Apache jerk and stumble, but the would-be killer kept coming at him. He wasn’t alone, either. With howls meant to strike fear into an enemy’s heart, more of the warriors leaped from the bank into the camp. The Kid’s shot had alerted Kelly and the other men, however, and like him, the perilous lives they led had given them to ability to wake up instantly and be dangerous right away. Kelly came up out of his bedroll with a revolver in each hand. Colt flame bloomed in the night as both guns roared their deadly song. Chess had his rifle. It barked wickedly as he cranked off several shots in less than two heartbeats.
