It's been 15 years since I chased them boys up from Las Crusces. When I get to thinking about it it keeps me up. Whiskey helps most times. Other nights I just sit up and stare out at the desert. Julie understands, she'll get up with me sometimes and make coffee and we’ll sit together in silence. Them boys ran us out into the Ash for three days, led us all through the badlands.

Ash always got into everthing; you’d pick it out from under your nails and out of your teeth for days after you’d been out ranging. I’d run my tongue over my teeth and spit out a big grey wad. My partner was riding behind me and always kept a bandana around his face while we were out in the desert. He looked like an old feather duster, his hat and his coat and his clothes all covered in ash. I called out to him.

“Git your bean eatin ass up here an look at this.” Reyes reined up and didn’t say a word. That was his way, always the stoic and silent lawman. You didn’t have to worry about him doing anything unless his mouth got to running. He’d do that to distract a man from the hand that slipped down to the big peacekeeper he wore. Fastest I ever seen on the draw. Only cause I cain’t see myself do it, of course.

“Alright old man, what do you want?” I pointed at the very obvious campsite our quarry had set up underneath an outcropping of rock.

“You blind or somethin? You caint see that?” He hmmphed. I hated it when he did that, like was saying Yeah, no shit old man, what about it? “They ain’t even bother to kick dirt over the fire pit.”

“Pitiful little fire, looks like. Must have burned just enough to cook with. You think they don’t know we’re following them?”  I got aggravated then, sometimes Reyes would get bored and didn’t think and it made me ornery.

“No. They know we’re on em. They’re gettin scared.” It clicked then, and he grinned real big. Had real white teeth, Reyes did. We figured they’d made us that morning, probably kept a lookout on top of that rock all night. We knew we’d catch them today, cause two of them stole some old nags that were outside the ferrier’s. Plow horses, if I recall. Had to have been nearly blown after three days hard riding.

We came up on a small town close to noon. Caint for the life of me remember the name of it. Suppose I should, shouldn’t I? It was close to the Arizona border though, they’d almost made it out of New Mexico. Reckon they figured we was state, but we wasn’t so it wouldnt’ve mattered if they did. We’d’ve chased them boys all the way to the Deep if we’d had to.

Now we all seen the old pictures and heard the old records where the lawman rides straight into town and announces he’s chasin outlaws and that he’s waitin on em at high noon in front of the saloon. That ain’t how it works, not at all. We skirted around the town for a little while and just watched. Then we got out of the saddle and watched some more. Everthing seemed normal, so we tied off the animals and went in. We split, I took the left and Reyes took the right. He had his twelve gauge with him. We hadn’t seen the horses them boys had, so we figured we’d poke around a little, find out who’d just come into town. I passed a little old lady who was sitting in a rocking chair in front of the store and talked to her. I said

“Ma’am,” and tipped my hat. She nodded back and looked at me sideways, like a hawk eyes a mouse. “I’m a Marshall for the Union, chasin some boys who caused a ruckus down in Las Crusces.”

“Well that don’t mind me none, we ain’t part a no ‘union’.” She acted like the thought offended her.

“Well ma’am, that ain’t neither here nor there. These is some bad fellas, and I need to find em.” I remember I looked across the street and saw them big white teeth of Reyes’s. I gave him the finger behind my back and took off my hat. “I’d be mighty obliged if you could help me. You must’ve seen four raggedy riders, lookin over their shoulder maybe.” The old bird looked at me with a fierceness.

“How I know you’re a Marshall, and ain’t somebody lookin for these boys cause they took you at poker or somethin?” I was getting irate, but that don’t do no good with the old ladies, so I just pushed my duster back so she could see the star I wore and got closer. She squinted and leaned in and stared at it for a long while before she sat back and went to rockin again. Still had a skeptical look on her face, the ol bitty.

“That satisfy your curiosity ma’am?” Her lips were pressed together and she kept looking at me. My patience was worn thin, let me tell you. “I need to find these boys miss. They killed two men and stole some horses, you don’t want that kind in your town do you?” Her eyes got wide then and finally she spat it out.

“I know which ones you mean. Four of em, came draggin in about two hours ago, looked half dead. Real nervous lookin, you ask me.” I bit my tongue and kept the fact that I was indeed asking her to myself and nodded politely. “They put their horses up in the stables yonder,” she pointed down the street while she went on, “and then went into the tavern there. “ I tipped my hat before she could keep draggin on.

“Much obliged ma’am.” I turned and walked off the steps, but she hollered at me.

“Hey!” She says. My blood was up cause I knew where them boys was, but I just turned and smiled.

“Ma’am?”

“Well,” she crossed her arms all indignant and said, “I thought you might like to know two of them fellas just went in the store about five minutes ago.” I must’ve went white as a sheet, cause here I was, flashing my badge in plain sight of where two of them killers was. I got back up on the step when the first one walked out like he didn’t have a care in the world. I remember him plainly, like I have a picture set on my desk. He was at least twenty years my junior, couldn’t’ve been more than 25 at the most. Had on some ragged blue jeans and a vest that was mostly patches. Had one of them curled hats on too, like the style was in them days. Course his was probably just curled by the sun, word had it all of em worked down in Mexico herding cattle. His eyes were blue, fiery and wild, and he was scruffy. He must’ve been a Southern boy, cause he wore a big top break revolver in a cross draw holster.

They like that, Confederates do. Them cavalry boys can shoot from the saddle good as most can on the ground, and it don’t get in the way when you ride. But it’s a slow way to draw when you’re on your own two feet. I carry one pistol cross on the left, one on my right hip, and another in the small of my back. I only ever shoot one at a time, but when my blood’s up my hands shake and it’s hard to reload, and I ain’t never intended on losing a gunfight for lack of shooting.

That boy went as pale as I felt. I held out my hand when I saw him tense, I was gonna try to shout him down, scare him into complying. But he didn’t even curse, just reached down for that pistol and took a step. Well, like I said, cross ain’t the fastest way to draw, and the only man I know that draws faster than my partner is me. My gun came up while his was leaving the holster and I put a slug in his belly. Everything happened all at once then.

He fell back through the door holding his stomach. I took the next step and the window to my front exploded and a hammer blow smacked me in the collar. The second man, according to the shopkeeper, had been loaded up with provisions when I shot the first. He just let them fall and walked right over to the window and shot me. He had an automatic, and three more shots snapped right past my head. I put two through the window and staggered a little, then dove over to Granny and pulled her out of her chair. I don’t think I knew I’d been shot until she told me.

“You’ve been shot!” She screeched that right in my ear. I told her to get the hell out of there and she jumped up and took off. She was awful spry for an old gal. The boy that was shot started hollering, and the one in the store started smashing the glass out with his pistol. I told that boy,

“M.U. Marshall! Thrown down your arms and come out!” He told me to fuck myself and shot at me some more. About that time I glanced across the street and saw a third rush out of the tavern, pistol in his hand. He ran right by Reyes, close enough to touch him, and my partner didn’t hesitate for a second. He took the top of that boy’s head clean off with that twelve gauge. Blood must’ve shot up about five feet. Two on two now, I remember thinking, that’s good. He flashed them white teeth at me and then put three shells into the window. I heard a curse so I scooted back and got on my feet. My chest burned like hell, but I could breathe fine so I figured it hadn’t poked a hole in anything important. I switched out for a new pistol and looked to Reyes. I was going to give him the signal to run around the back of the store, but the last of them sons of bitches came out a door behind him and unloaded, shot him twice in the back.

It felt like I’d been shot again. Reyes tumbled to the dirt face first, then rolled over and emptied the shotgun. He fired wildly at his killer, who was naked to the waist, and drove him back inside. Then he fell back and just laid there, still as a stone. Something broke inside my chest. I’ve been mad before, but this was something else. It was cold and black, and it sapped everything out of me and set me to killing.

I stepped up and swung into the window, saw the kid with the automatic hunched down with his face scrunched up, and shot him under the eye. His expression went slack and he slithered down onto his back. I gave him another just under the chin when he sprawled out just to make sure. I took two steps and kicked the door open and aimed at the boy who was dying on the floor. He held a hand up, like I’d tried to do to at the start. I shot him through the heart and watched them fiery blue eyes go cold. I pulled the pistol from the small of my back and held it in my left and stomped across the street. I kept my half empty pistol aimed straight at the door the last had retreated back into, but when he didn’t come out I switched them. I leaned against the wall, kicked the door with my heel and let it bang itself open. Ol boy shot his wad right then, right through that door out into the empty air.

“Shit,” he said. Whispered it, like he didn’t want me to hear him. I guess he forgot to reload after he shot Reyes. I just walked on in and pointed my pistol at his head. He froze. Had a magazine right there too, ready to rock. He was fast, I’ll give him that. I wanted to say something, anything. I wanted to ask him why; why didn’t you just surrender, why’d you shoot my partner, why’d you kick that boy to death in Las Crucses, why, why? But I didn’t. I just stood there, pistol pointed at his face. He looked up at me and asked me a question instead.

“Well?” That’s all he said. Like I was inconveniencing him. He looked his death in the face and just shrugged his shoulders. He knew the score, knew he weren’t gonna see a judge. So I shot him. I turned and went out to Reyes, who was dead in the dirt. Bullets went right through his liver and his groin and he bled out in seconds. I don’t know how he managed to shoot at the kid who’d shot him, pain he must’ve been in. Took some grit, but then Reyes never lacked that.

I told the townsfolk to bury the dead and to bring me a blanket. I wrapped Reyes up, tossed him across his horse, and rode West for Arizona. I nearly died when my wound festered, but I made it back. The doctors marveled at how I’d managed to ride with my shoulder near blown off. The bullet had skipped off my collarbone and went straight up and out. I got promoted and quit doing field work. I hated it. I got a desk in an office and a pay raise, while Reyes got a few bullets to the back and Maria got a folded flag. His wife never forgave me, forbade me from the funeral. I never did forgive myself, come to think of it. Never forget the look she gave me, like she wished it’d been me. I wish it had too.