The Serpentine River

Now that Shadow was full and not going to be awnry, Trigger set out from the hitching post in front of the Big Horn Saloon to the north towards the Serpentine River. He noticed as gradually the pristine store fronts tarnished as he rode further and further. It became less something of civilized living and more something he was accustomed to. Shadow silently trotted along to the sound of the ever increasing sound of water and Trigger rose his guard as the sound of water accompanied the sound of people. The town of Crosby's Ridge, Montana was empty this morning and now he new why as he saw pan after pan of the prospectors who he had heard flocked to this nothing town a week before. "Holy Christ...," he grumbled under his breath.

The river glistened in the bright sun as it slowly sauntered its way across the sky into the midday. His Appaloosa was bound to bring him attention so he rode to the west a bit but no matter how far he rode these gold panners would not end. And from atop his horse, they were doing quite well.
"Heh tat's a nice horse ya got tere boy-o," an old Irish voice called out to him.
"Well, I like the way you think prospector," Trigger put on a false smile and played along with the old man.
"Aye, I don tink I seen sometin loike tat in quite some time," the man neared closer to get a good look at the young man on the horse. "Ya new 'round here boy-o?"
"You can say that." Trigger replied looking out in the distance down at the banks of endless people hoping to find fortune. "How many people are out here old timer?"
"Couldn' rightleh tell ya. I do know tat tere all here for the same reason as meself togh. It's te gold linin' te bot'om of te river. Good luck findin' a place ta pan togh. Took me two days and I had to fight for mine."
"Well, shit! Nothin' like showin' up late to a party, eh?" Trigger joked.
"Keep headed down west. Maybeh you'll find sometin." The man responded.
Trigger stood in his stirrups as he swung his leg off shadow and landed on his feet beside the horse. "Honestly," He began walking towards the old prospector. " I don't care about standin' out in this sun hotter than Hell's holy henchmen waiting to strike it rich with a fucking pan in my hand, breakin my back for the mere chance that by the good grace of God I find some luck in these forsaken badlands. Honestly, I'd rather make my own luck." With those words, Trigger crossed his body with his arm wrapping around the handle of his Smith and Weston, with a fail swoop unholstered the gun, cocked it and pushed into the old man's chest. "Now this is goin' to go one of two ways... Either you're goin' to tell no one I was here. Or everyone is going to hear me shoot you point blank in the heart."
"Now-now-now w-w-w-wait a minute here. We can work this out. Oh God, St. Peter help me." The man pleaded for his life as the gun was pushed harder into his chest.
"What do you suggest we do about this?"
"I don even know who you are."
"I don't give a shit! Now you wanted to slow me down, give away minutes of my valuable time now, make it worth my while." Trigger snarled as his cigarette ash fell on the man's dirt encrusted shirt.
"Take it! Take te gold it's in te pans over tere to te left!"
"Keep your limey fucking voice down, you little cockroach."
"I'm sorreh, I'm sorreh." Cried the man. Sweating bullets that glistened in the sun as his face grew redder by the second.
"Now, I'm going to take your gold. I'm not going to say another word, as long as you don't. Understand." Trigger explained to the man eye to eye. The irish man nodded in agreement as he stood and watched the bandit rummage through his life's possessions, gathering all the gold he could manage and stuffing it into a cloth sack. "Now, get back to your work, I was never here, correct?" Trigger moved over to Shadow securing the sack of Gold onto his saddle. Standing up in the stirrups swinging his leg ov er his horse.
"Yea, whateveh you sey." Said the man. As a shot echoed through the canyon up the river banks for miles.
"Ah, God dammit!" Trigger yelled out as a shot tore through his shoulder. "Son of a fucking bitch!" He ducked off his horse and drew his guns. "We had a deal you bastard!" Trigger yelled out. As the irish man ducked behind his gear.

A boy no older than 16 walking up the river bank from his pans,"Dah, you alright?!" holding a Moore Revolver in his hands shaking a bit squeaked out "Get out of here ya cockchafer! Go get yer arm looked at! I know I hit it!" The boy's words were angry but Trigger was calm. This wasn't the first time he'd gotten shot, but it was painful beyond what he could imagine.
"Ya Glenn, I'm alright!" The old man called out.
"Dammit boy!" Trigger called out pistols drawn hidden behind Shadow. "Teach your boy to not meddle in men's work!"
"Get before I shoot your horse!" Trigger had to think a moment before he decided what to do, he grabbed the gold off the saddle and tossed it over the horse. "Now get on your horse and get gone!"
"You gonna shoot me again?" Trigger toyed with the boy.
"I haven't decided," He cocked his gun. "But to be safe throw your guns over the horse too! Or I kill your ugly mule."
Begrudgingly Trigger tossed his pistols over Shadow as they dropped in the dust on the other side. "Alright, alright. I'll get on my horse, and get out of here." Behind the horse Trigger had undone his scabbard as he climbed up on the horse he got a good look at the boy. As he grabbed the reigns with his right hand his left hand swung his Winchester Rifle across his body and fired a single shot.

The projectile escaped the chamber and roped itself into the boys forehead. The bullet ripped through his brain matter and blasted out the back of his head and the boy fell flat on his back. Trigger slipped the Winchester back in it's scabbard and hopped off his horse again and clambered to his guns, his shoulder bleeding something fierce. The old man hysterical seeing his son shot through the head and now dead the on the banks of the serpentine river. Trigger picked up his Colt 1845 walked to the old man holding his son,"Thanks old man," Trigger smirked and shot the old man point blank in the head, collapsing the old man on top of the boy. Walking back to the horse he grabbed the sack of gold and climbed up on Shadow once more and took off from the scene towards the town at full clip.

Entering the town from the north was quite different from the east. He meandered past the wind torn structures and dusted out building into the newer part of Crosby's Ridge. Told a different story than the fresh and clean town that was spelled out entering from the east. The town was on hard times before this boom and the pristine shops from earlier in the day had been painted a new picture of rebuilding. All things that Trigger needed to know. All things to create a story for himself. He hadn't much time to do so either, as he came to the hitching post from earlier in the day. He slid off Shadow and tied the gelding up as he limped down the strip towards Belle's Aide. He made it to the door, flung it open and stumbled in.

The young lady from before who had been looking over her logs stood up as Trigger wearily crashed through the door. "My name is Justin. I've been shot... I need a doctor!"