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~/~/~( Chapter 6 )~~~


Brian’s mind absorbed the scene playing out before him, calculating the possibilities in lightning quickness. Swiftly grasping his advantages, though very sparse, the gambler displayed a look of absolute horror on his handsome face and stared past his adversaries at some unseen spectacle beyond.

“LOOK OUT!” The Southern accent rang through the saloon in dazzling clarity, filled with a clear panic and shrill intensity.

The two men paused in confusion and surprise, the words of warning so convincing they snapped their heads around in search of the unseen danger.

Brian spurred into action as soon as Les’ and Kyle’s heads turned, grasping the edge of the table before him and lifting it with all the strength he could muster. The gambler’s feet were in motion even before the hard wood table, cards and all, slammed into the distracted miscreants, effectively pinning them to the floor.

Brian shoved the drunk patrons aside, desperately trying for the bat-wing doors beyond. The crowded saloon hampered his movements and his breathing quickened at the angry shouts behind him.

“God damn gambler!” Grunts. Cursing. Clattering of wood on wood. Scuffling. “Get off yer duff, Kyle! He’s gettin’ away!”

Brian skidded to a stop, his head whipping from side to side frantically. A tightly packed throng of people blocked his way, the patrons sober enough to notice attempting to flee the suddenly dangerous saloon in panic.

Brian forced his mind to slow down, to process his surroundings. The span of where he was to the doors was blocked by people, the two mad men wanting his keester on a platter were behind him, and to his left side were only scattered tables, abandoned by the townsfolk. That left his right side, the bar.

Brian glanced behind him and saw his two pursuers finally untangling themselves from the table, scrambling to their feet and fixing him in their sights.

“Shit,” the Southerner uncharacteristically swore, noticing as they retrieved their guns and pulled the hammers back with peculiarly loud, metallic clicks in the noisy saloon.

Seizing his only option, Brian scrambled onto the bar counter, almost slipping on the spilled alcohol and knocking glasses to the hard wood floor with loud crashes. Not about to be pinned behind the bar like a sitting duck, Brian remained atop the counter and held his arms out slightly from his body, balancing his stance as he half shuffled, half ran along the smooth yet worn wood surface, his shiny boots knocking into bottles and glasses.

“Hold it right there, ya damn cheat!” hollered one of his enemies from behind. Brian kept going, “Damn it! I said stop!”

Brian’s steps became even more hurried as the glasses at his feet exploded without his touch, being the victims of a bullet. The multiple pings and whistling ricochets spurred Brian on without a glance back, not needing to see behind him to notice the rows of bottles to his right side on the shelves shattering with the impact of bullets.

Seeing the end of the counter ahead, Brian’s attention fixated on what he would do when he got there and didn’t notice as one particular bullet ripped into his left shoulder.

Leaping over a passed out cowboy using the counter as a pillow, Brian spied the window broken earlier as he and the others were outside. Arriving at the end of the table, Brian leapt to the hard planked floor with only a slight stumble and to the broken window, the curses and threats ringing in his ears as well as the continued gunfire.

His breath wheezing in and out of his panicked lungs, Brian threw himself through the open window, his body hitting the planked boardwalk with a grunt, dust billowing up around him as he rolled several times, ending up in the dirt street. Rough hands seized his shoulders and Brian instinctively fought the grip, a panicked cry escaping his lips, “No!”

The hands didn’t leave and he fought on, until a harsh exclamation cracked through his dimmed hearing, “God damn it, Brian! It’s Kevin! Quit yer fightin’!”

Brian abruptly stilled and squinted his clenched eyes open, gazing up at the dark form above him, silhouetted by the blazing sun. “Kev?” Brian croaked out.

“Yeah,” grunted Kevin, grasping the gambler’s arm and hauling him non too gently to his feet.

Brian’s legs gave out at first, but he soon regained control of the trembling limbs. He only took on part of his own weight, content to allow Kevin to support him as he fought to get his frenzied breathing under control.

Kevin tightened his grip on the Southerner, “We gotta get scarce.”

“Where?” asked a slightly shaky voice.

Only then did Brian acknowledge Nick’s presence, wondering absently how he could have missed the obvious detail. Then he realized, he’d shut his eyes again. Opening them, Brian saw the worried features of the rebel, staring from his form to Kevin. Stealing himself, Brian looked up to the face of his cousin. Surprise flashed in his blue eyes at the concern and barely concealed fear spelled out on the rugged features. This puzzled the Southerner.

Kevin glanced down at the gambler and then to the saloon, “Anywhere but ‘ere.”

Just then, two men with guns in hand burst through the crowd fleeing the saloon, looking about in aggression. Kevin swore, “Shit. We gotta go, now.”

Kevin hurriedly dragged Brian the rest of the way across the street, Nick following and watching their back. The blond purposefully moved to walk behind the gambler, blocking the young man from the eyes of the two men. They ducked into a dark alley between the ammo store and supply mercantile, melting into the shadows.

Kevin braced Brian against the building, his eyes darting around in search of further threat. The gunslinger finally let his attention rest on the gasping gambler, “You okay?”

Brian opened his eyes, managing to retain some grip on his breathing and calm his racing heart, “I... believe I am unharmed. Although, I am not one to pertain the status of my person at the present time, as I am not wholly sure what in the sacred book of God just happened.”

Kevin half grinned and quirked a dark eyebrow, sending an amused and relieved glance to Nick, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

Nick looked at Brian in interest, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was quite a sight to see when he and Kevin had approached the saloon. After all, it wasn’t every day you saw a colorful gambler fly out of a window. Nick smirked at the thought, “So,” he asked Brian, “What happened?”

Brian rolled his eyes back and closed them with a deep sigh, “Oh, the usual. Some two-bit low-lifes see fit to inform me of their opinion of my poker playing skills, then decide it in their best interest to effect the personifications they deem justifiable onto my questionable character.” Brian paused, opening his tired blue eyes to look at Nick, “I took it upon myself to avoid the reprehensible engagement by hightailing my fancy ass out of there.”

Nick let out a hail of laughter, not at the danger his new friend had just went through, but at the narration he put to the events. Nick regained his breath and paused in thought, catching how he had just referred to the gambler as a friend in unconscious thought. He smiled to himself, he liked the feeling and agreed with it.

Kevin allowed himself to chuckle slightly, amused despite himself. Then the real reason Brian was in danger surfaced, causing his eyes to narrow, “Brian, that wasn’t a common occurrence. Those men were part of Branson’s gang, they were meant to get at you.”

Brian’s features shifted in surprise and confusion, “After me? Whatever for?”

Kevin let out a long sigh, slamming a hand against the wall by Brian’s head, “I don’t know. Branson singled you out and I don’t God damn know why!”

Brian inwardly winced at the raised voice of his cousin, then visibly winced as a sharp, burning pain, slowly growing more intense with every beat of his heart, emanated from his left shoulder. Brian frowned, then brought his right hand around to his shoulder. He gasped as pain flashed and made his vision waver at his hand’s contact. He vaguely felt a grip on his right shoulder, holding him up as his legs gave out momentarily at the fiery pain.

“Brian?” Kevin’s voice queried, concern clearly heard as his grip tightened on the gambler’s shoulder. “Brian! What’s wrong?”

Brian pulled his hand away from his left shoulder, his jeweled eyes staring at the substance that now covered it, an inky black color in the shadows of the alley. He tore his eyes away and to first Nick, then Kevin, “I believe I was mistaken... in my earlier... well-being.”

Kevin let out a grunt of surprise and effort as Brian fell limp into his arms, the pair sinking to the ground.

“Brian!” shouted Nick, fear making his voice almost tangible as he sank to his knees beside the duo. His young blue eyes sought answers from the gunslinger.

Kevin drew his hand away from Brian’s shoulder and to the forefront of his and Nick’s vision. Kevin pinned Nick with hard eyes, “He’s been shot.”

~/~/~( in the northern part of Cripple Creek )~~~

“AJ, are you sure about this?” Howie asked the sharpshooter, squinting his brown eyes at his surroundings.

“Absolutely,” replied AJ, shifting his feet, his sharp eyes looking off into the distance.

Howie didn’t like this at all and made to point it out to his friend, “I don’t like this, AJ. It’s too dangerous, we could fall to our deaths.”

“Aw,” guffawed AJ, “Nothin’ ta worry about, ‘D.” The sharpshooter used the healer’s nickname in an effort to calm his fears, “I’ve been doin’ this since I was little, nothin’ to it.”

“AJ,” Howie toned, “We’re atop a building’s roof, a good two and a half stories up. This-” Howie broke off as his foot slipped slightly on the slick surface they perched on, he took a deep breath, “This... is NOT nothin’.”

“Jus’ go with it, Howie,” smiled AJ, his dark eyes twinkling, “Yer up here and yer gonna haveta stay up here ‘til I help ya get down.”

“Fine,” sighed Howie, “Let’s do what we came up ‘ere for and then get the hell out of ‘ere.”

AJ laughed and turned his attention back to the town below. He scanned the many people and discerned whether they were what they were lookin’ for or not. His eyes narrowed and his lips turned into a vile smile, he turned to the pale healer, “Time to ‘get the hell out of ‘ere’.”

Howie straightened, “Huh? That quick? Wha’dya see?”

AJ smiled wider, “Let’s get down and then I’ll tell ya.”

With a frown, Howie acquiesced. He carefully turned and began to sidle along the roof and to the edge where the window they used to get up on the roof was. His foot slipped again and he would have fallen if not for AJ grabbing onto his arm. Panting, the healer fixed the tracker with thankful eyes.

AJ shook his head, “That way woulda been quicker, cowboy, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Howie gave him a withering look, “Really, AJ. I never knew that, thanks for the tip.”

“Hey,” defended AJ, “Just tryin’ ta help.”

Howie rolled his eyes, “This was yer idea, it would help that I remember to never listen to you again!”

AJ’s eyes widened, but twinkled with hidden mirth, “Point taken. Let’s get down, I gotta catch a varmint.”

Howie quirked an eyebrow, then shook his head, “I’m not gonna ask.”

Within ten minutes, AJ and Howie got off the roof and walked out into the street. Howie looked around and then to the distracted tracker, “So, what’re we lookin’ for?”

AJ raised a hand, “Wait right here, I’ll be back in a minute. Gotta gets after that varmint.”

Howie gave a sigh and leaned against the support for the store’s overhang, content to wait.

AJ crept behind the store and reappeared down the street, spying his target and closing the distance. He withdrew his Smith and Wessen and stepped up behind his quarry. His face serious, AJ gripped the back of the young man’s neck and jabbed his gun into his side, pulling the hammer back. He felt the shoulders of the man tense as he tried to twist away, then freeze as AJ spoke in a low tone, “I wouldn’t do nothin’, less you want a pound of lead in yer gullet.”

“Wh- what do ya want?” Mac’s voice came out shaky, his adversary not visible as he was behind him.

AJ smiled, “You an’ me are gonna take a stroll.”

Mac forced defiance into his voice, “I ain't goin’ anywhere’s with you.”

AJ chuckled and then jabbed the gun barrel further into the youth’s side, causing the red head to squirm in an attempt to get away, “You ain’t got much of a choice, pard’.”

With that, AJ dragged Mac back around and to the alley adjacent to where Howie leaned against the support. AJ sighed, then hissed, “Howie!... Hey, get over here!... ...Howie!!”

The last call was not a hiss and Howie jumped at the yell, spinning around with his hand on his gun. Seeing the cause of the yell peaking his head around the corner of the store, Howie relaxed. He glanced around and then entered the alley, his eyes widening at sight of Mac in AJ’s grasp.

“What the hell?!” exclaimed the ex-gunslinger, surprised. “Ain’t that one of Branson’s men?”

AJ nodded smartly, “Yep, and he’s gonna be our little helper, ain’t ya?”

Mac, eyes wide in fear, shook his head and pressed his lips together firmly. AJ frowned, “You ain’t gonna be stubborn, now are ya? ‘Cause, well...” AJ made a pointed look at Howie, “Ya see that man there?” Mac looked at Howie and nodded, Howie glanced at AJ in wariness, wondering what the sharpshooter was up to. AJ continued, his voice matter-of-fact, “Well, ya wouldn’t know it ta look at ‘im, but he’s the best knifer this side of the Mississippi. Gots a regular arsenal of the nasty things strapped to his back. Go on, ‘D. Show ‘im.”

With a frown at AJ, Howie shrugged off his brown vest and turned, revealing some ten knives strapped criss-cross to his back. Mac gave a gasp and rethought his battle plan. As Howie replaced his vest, AJ grinned at the young outlaw, “Now, you wanna rethink yer decision and start flappin’ yer mouth? Or is D’ gonna haveta demonstrate those unique talents o’ his.”

Mac flicked his eyes from AJ to Howie and back again, finally casting his gaze to the ground as he nodded his head. AJ smiled and smirked at Howie, who shook his head in wonder.

“Okay, then,” began AJ, “What about this contract out on the kid?”

Mac glanced up nervously, “I-I don’t know a lot, but I know it’s from some rich guy.”

AJ frowned, “How much?”

Mac felt the betrayal seep into his bones as he answered, “Nine thousand dollars.”

AJ’s jaw dropped, eyes wide. Howie had to lean against the building as his ability to stand momentarily left him. AJ blinked, clearing his throat, “Did... did you say nine thousand dollars?”

Mac sullenly nodded, too caught up in his betrayal to his gang. AJ managed to continue, “Who hired Branson?”

“I don’t know, only Branson does.” Mac was beginning to fidget, nervous as to if he would get out of this alive and if he did, what would Branson do?

AJ thought for a few minutes, “Okay, I believe ya on that. How about this? Where are ya gonna take the kid if’n ya get ‘im?”

Mac looked up, “Somewhere’s around Monument. That’s all I know, the contractor has a meetin’ place set up with Branson around the town of Monument.”

AJ nodded absently, turning his attention to Howie but keeping his gun trained on Mac, “What do ya think, D’?”

Howie frowned, “I don’t know, he’s seemin’ ta be genuine in what he’s tellin’ us. The kid’s got a price of nine thousand dollars on his head and we don’t know who put it out, but he’s waitin’ out by Monument.”

AJ nodded, “So what do you think we should do?”

As AJ and Howie talked, Mac saw an opening and sprang forward before he lost his nerve. He kicked AJ hard in the right shin and then pushed him away, spinning and sprinting out of the alley.

AJ let out a string of curses, “OW! God damn it! Son of a-” He cut himself off as he bit his lip, one hand still holding his gun while the other was gripping his shin, all the while hopping around on one foot. Howie was leaning against the building for support as he laughed himself silly, arms wrapped around his middle as he gasped for breath.

AJ tentatively set his foot down, testing it before pinning Howie with a glare, “Oh, shut the hell up, Howie! The damn kid got away!”

“I... know, but...” Howie tried to catch his breath, “Oh, that was just great!”

AJ scowled at Howie’s grinning face, turning to look down the alley where the kid disappeared. He sighed, “Well, I guess we got all we could outta ‘im anyways. We didn’t need him to get away, though. Now he’ll go spoutin’ to Branson that we know where he’s gonna head if’n he ever gets Nick.”

Howie became serious, “Nah, I don’t think so. That kid won’t tell Branson ‘cause he’s too afraid. He would be labeled a traitor for givin’ up information. We shouldn’t worry about it, he’ll keep ‘is mouth shut.”

“I hope yer right, ‘D,” sighed AJ, grimacing as he took a step, “C’mon, we best get on back to the big, bad boss man.”

“AJ,” Howie toned, “Kevin ain’t all that bad.”

“Hrummph!” was AJ’s only reply as they walked out of the alley, AJ with a slight limp, Howie with a smirk on his lips and glint in his eye.

They soon came up on the saloon, stopping to lean against the supports. After a couple of minutes of waiting, AJ looked at Howie quizzically, “Hey, somethin’ seem fishy to you?”

Glancing around, Howie nodded, “Where’s all the people?”

AJ pushed away from the support he leaned against, peaking into the saloon, “Place is done cleaned out... ...Damn.”

Howie frowned, “What?”

AJ turned to his friend, “It’s shot ta hell. The whole place is ransacked.”

Howie shifted nervously, “Shouldn’t Kevin be here by now? And... wasn’t Brian supposed to be...”

AJ snapped his eyes to the saloon, then back to Howie, “Aw, crap.”

“What do we do?” asked Howie, looking at the saloon in worry.

AJ shook his head, “Look for ‘em. They haveta be around someplace, ‘cause they ain’t here.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“In a matter of speakin’, yeah. As long as they ain’t just lying dead somewhere’s else.”

Howie scowled, his voice dry of emotion as he spoke, “Your upside to this is astounding, AJ.”

“Let’s just get ta lookin’.”

~/~/~( )~~~

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know. I can’t leave you here alone with ‘im and I can’t let you go anywhere alone,” answered Kevin, not taking his eye away from his hand.

“What do ya mean? I can stay with ‘im, I’d protect ‘im,” replied Nick heatedly, his face dark.

“Yeah, you can,” sighed Kevin, then finally looked at the rebel, “But who’d protect you?”

Nick paused, frowning, “Well, we still gotta do somethin’. He needs Howie!”

Kevin thought for a moment, “We shoulda been at the saloon to meet up ‘bout this time, why don’t you go take a peak to see if they are at the saloon. Don’t do any more than that, Kaos. Just see if they’re there.”

Nick nodded and pushed to his feet, biting his lip and taking a deep breath before walking to the mouth of the alley. Kevin had kept his eyes on his cousin, watching for signs he’d wake up and not noticing the rebel’s slip.

Nick cautiously stepped up to the edge of the alley, tentatively looking out. He almost yelled in relief, seeing AJ and Howie across the street, wondering among the buildings. Nick glanced back at Kevin, then placed his fingers to his lips. An earsplitting whistle echoed throughout the town, causing AJ and Howie to snap straight, their heads switching side to side for the cause.

Howie glanced at AJ before searching the surroundings, catching Nick’s figure in the alley across from them. Nick gave a wave of acknowledgment and then a more frantic beckoning for them to come quick. Howie jogged to AJ and grabbed his arm, then dragged the sharpshooter across the street and to Nick.

“What happened?” asked Howie in a huff of breath as he stopped before the rebel. AJ tore his arm out of Howie’s grip and stared at Nick, catching something in the drifter’s eyes, but not sure what it meant.

“Brian was attacked by two of Branson’s men,” Nick quickly explained, then paused, “He got shot.”

“What?!” exclaimed both Howie and AJ.

Howie pinned Nick with a serious look, “Where is he?”

Nick nodded behind him, “In the alley, Kevin’s with him. We don’t know how bad it is, but he’s passed out.”

Howie pushed past Nick and into the alley, AJ gave Nick a curious look, then nudged him to get him going. Nick gave him a small nod and they followed the healer into the alley.

Kevin looked up to see Howie rushing toward him, concern on his Latino face. Kevin sighed, glad to see the younger man. Howie kneeled before them, his eyes on Brian as he asked, “Has he woken up at all?”

Kevin shook his head, “No, been still as a board.” He watched as Howie carefully examined the blood-stained sleeve, “He gonna be okay?”

After a minute, Howie sat back on his feet. He glanced at Kevin and then at AJ and Nick as they arrived. Howie smiled, “He’ll be fine, it just grazed him.”

Nick looked both relieved and surprised, “Really? I mean, why’d he pass out?”

Kevin shot a glare at the blond, not having forgot that Nick had disobeyed him by whistling to Howie and AJ instead of just reporting back to him. He turned his attention back to Howie as he spoke, “The only thing I can say is shock. Did this happen in a real... well, excitin’ way? Him gettin’ shot, I mean.”

Kevin nodded, “Yeah, he was a’flyin’ outta the saloon window when we first saw him. Who knows what went on in the saloon before that. When we got ahold o’ him, he didn’t even know he was shot.”

“Well,” toned AJ, “The saloon is in a royal mess, so it couldn’t a’been good.”

Howie pressed a hand to the bleeding wound, trying to stop the slow, but steady flow of the red liquid. The pressure elicited a groan from the prone gambler, his eyelids fluttering slightly. Howie leaned over him, “Brian?... Brian, can you hear me? You wakin’ up?”

Another groan and the eyes opened, slowly focussing on Howie, “Howie?” The gambler’s voice was soft, the accent heavy.

Howie smiled, “Yep. Got yerself in a pickle, I see.”

Brian looked momentarily confused, then looked at his shoulder where the healer’s hand firmly gripped him, his hand red. Brian closed his eyes with a moan, the memories returning, “Aw, hell.”

AJ chuckled, “That about covers it, pard’.”

Howie looked at the gambler in concern, “You think you can gain yer feet? We ought to be leavin’, and my supplies are with my saddle bags.”

Brian nodded, eyes still closed. Kevin looked at Howie in confusion, “Leave?” His green gaze switched back and forth between Howie and AJ, seeing a hidden knowledge behind the sets of brown, “What did you find out?”

“Later, Kev,” said AJ, “Let’s fix Bri’ up and get the hell outta here, then we’ll tell ya.”

Kevin frowned, but nodded. He helped Brian as he struggled to his feet, Howie not releasing his grip. Brian clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. Once he got control, he shrugged Kevin’s hands off and replaced Howie’s hand with his own. He looked at them all, gesturing to he livery, “Shall we proceed?”

While the others looked on with concern, AJ shook his head, “He gots more fight in ‘im than a rattle snake.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” replied the gambler, “Though the source is indefinitely ambiguous.”

AJ blinked and did a double take, “I don’t think I want to know.”

Brian grinned brightly, grunting out, “Nope.”

Howie kept close to Brian’s side, ready if the gambler’s legs betrayed him. Brian simply kept a firm grip on his shoulder, his teeth clenched at the burning pain while his face revealed nothing. He calmly stared back at his four companions. Kevin kept a wary eye on Brian while speaking, “All right, I guess we’re leavin’.”

The five traveled to the livery by way of the back alleys, not taking the risk of being seen in the main street by any of Branson’s lingering men. As soon as they entered the livery, Howie be-lined it to his saddle bags, pulling out a roll of bandages and several other objects. He sat Brian down on a straw bale and told him to remove his navy jacket, leaving the gambler in his white silk shirt and black vest, his left sleeve colored a deep red. Without even looking at Brian, Howie gripped the bloody sleeve near the tear and ripped the sleeve from the stiches.

“Howie!” exclaimed Brian, staring at his now bare arm, the severed sleeve bunched at his wrist. “That was a perfectly good shirt! Do you have any idea how much this shirt costs?!?”

“It was pretty much a goner anyways, Brian,” replied Howie, dowsing a cloth in alcohol and setting to cleaning the gambler’s wound. Brian spoke no more, his lips pressed firmly together as the healer attended to his injury.

Kevin winced as he watched the process, the wound wasn’t pretty, even if it was minor. An ugly red furrow scored across his shoulder in a diagonal, stretching all the way across, an easy half inch deep in the center of the graze. Kevin grimaced in sympathy as Howie pulled out a suture needle and some kind of string, soon performing the task of stitching the open wound closed.


For Brian’s part, he remained tense and reserved, not moving until he felt the bandage tied off. He quickly shrugged his navy jacket back on, not looking anyone in the eye.

Howie sat back after placing his supplies back in his saddle bags, addressing Brian, “You ought to be fine, shoulder might be sore an’ stiff, but if’n ya take it easy on it, ya should be fine. Ya lost a fair ‘mount of blood, too. So ya might feel a bit off in some respects, so don’t overdo nothin’. Ya hearin’ me, Bri’?”

Brian nodded, straightening out his jacket, “Most assuredly, Howie, loud and clear.”

“All right,” spoke Kevin leaning against a stall, staring at Howie and AJ, “What’d ya find out.”

AJ looked at Howie and motioned he’d talk, he addressed Kevin, “We... caught... one of Branson’s men and had a bit of a talk with ‘im.”

“What?!” cried Kevin, shocked, “You got one of his men? Where the hell is he?!”

AJ unconsciously flexed his leg, wincing, “Um, he got away... BUT, we got what we needed from ‘im.”

Kevin crossed his arms, “Well, I’m waiting.”

“All we could get was that the contractor is some rich guy who’s waitin’ out by Monument for the drop off of the kid...” AJ paused, glancing at Nick, then Kevin, “The kid’s got nine thousand dollars on ‘is head.”

A loud thump caused them to spin around, Nick was sitting on the dirty ground, his back to a stall. The young features were drawn in shock, he blinked up at AJ, “Nine... nine thousand... Dollars?!?”

AJ nodded, “Yep. Somebody out there wants you bad.”

Kevin rubbed his chin, “Monument... We’ll have to cross Pike’s Peak.”

Howie looked at Kevin, “What d’ya mean, Kev? We’re headin’ to Monument now?”

Kevin nodded, turning and opening his stall, Blaze nickering his welcome, “We find the contractor, we find the answers and finish this business at the same time.”

Brian sighed, his blue gaze looking out into the hills and mountains in the distance through the livery doors, “Well, Pike’s Peak, here we come.”