UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
July 12th, 1955
A NEW MORNING
Big Bend National Park // US-Mexico Border
"<Run faster!>" a man cried out in pure terror while escorting his co-workers towards safety. There were fleeing from a couple of White Americans driving a custom jeep with the USBP emblem on the front doors. It was clear that they weren't working for Border Patrol because they lacked the uniform. However, it didn't mean they weren't sponsored, given one of their jeeps was being used. All of the white men were carrying some sort of loaded weapon with them. But, they weren't looking for wild animals to hunt.
The cattleman still was running away from them, but it was clear that the threat was catching up. He kept on running even as his legs were slowly giving in. Then, he felt a bullet going through his leg and fell to the ground in excruciating pain. The jeep came to a stop in front of him, and the white men began exiting out with excitement. It did, however, gave his co-workers enough time to possibly hide from the white terrorists. One of the white men got up close to the wounded man and stabbed his lit cigarette into the bullet wound for seemingly no reason. "That's what you get for stealing our cattle."
"No stealin-"
Another white man looked down at the worker and spit at him. "What a dirty liar."
"We should just leave him for the coyotes." An older white man said while holding the rifle that injured the worker.
"Nah, we got to send a message to these thieves..." The young white man stopped himself as he noticed someone, or rather something, approaching them in the distance. "What the-"
Before he had the chance to finish the sentence, a bullet permanently silenced him and left behind a hole in his forehead. The other men started to panic at the sight of their dead friends and randomly opened fire around them. They didn't attempt to flee until another of their colleagues was killed on the spot; however, one of them thought of doing something bold. With his friend's blood on his shirt, the white man placed his foot on the neck of the cattleman and pulled out a pistol. That was when he issued his ultimatum. "Show yourself, or this bean-bandit gets it!"
The man pulled back on the hammer of his pistol. "I mean it!"
In the distance, a figure appeared from a boulder with his hands up in the airs. Then, they made their way towards them with their weapons in holsters. As they got closer towards them, it was clear that they were a cowboy if their attire wasn't clear enough. And holding onto a silver revolver in their right hand. In an instant, a single shot rang out as the ring finger and pinkie of the white man's hand were blown off. Before he had the chance to speak, the cowboy unloaded his handgun at the man while the cattleman watched in horror.
Then, it ran out of bullets.
The cowboy began reloading his revolver while minding their business; however, they glanced over at the cattleman and peeked at the wound. "<Will you be alright?>"
"<Y-yes. I should have enough time to make it back home before it gets worst.>" The cattleman was surprised that the stranger spoke Spanish fluently. But before he had the chance to ask about it, another vehicle was approaching them; and unlike the wannabes lying dead, the goons were actual border patrol agents armed with military-grade weapons and looking for blood. When he looked at the cowboy, he noticed that the individual was holding onto a small black notebook and keys.
"<Take the jeep.>" The cowboy threw the keys at him and then pointed at some rocks in the distance. "<Go and get to your friends hiding behind the boulders there. I will handle them.>"
The cattleman nodded and made his way to the jeep with the keys on hand. There was so much that he wanted to know about his hero. But, it was clear that time was running out. He started the jeep up and stared at the cowboy for possibly the last time. "<Thank you.>"
There was no response other than a simple nod from the cowboy. As the cattleman drove away and heading towards the boulders, his mind was overwhelmed by everything that happened to him today. But before he had the time to process them, a series of gunshots echoed across the desert and then died out in an instant. The cattleman wasn't planning on stopping after that, but he needed to know his hero's fate for that brief gunfight. Instead, he saw something that was astonishing and unbelievable in the distance: the cowboy standing over the wounded border patrol agents with the revolver in his holster.
The cattleman still was running away from them, but it was clear that the threat was catching up. He kept on running even as his legs were slowly giving in. Then, he felt a bullet going through his leg and fell to the ground in excruciating pain. The jeep came to a stop in front of him, and the white men began exiting out with excitement. It did, however, gave his co-workers enough time to possibly hide from the white terrorists. One of the white men got up close to the wounded man and stabbed his lit cigarette into the bullet wound for seemingly no reason. "That's what you get for stealing our cattle."
"No stealin-"
Another white man looked down at the worker and spit at him. "What a dirty liar."
"We should just leave him for the coyotes." An older white man said while holding the rifle that injured the worker.
"Nah, we got to send a message to these thieves..." The young white man stopped himself as he noticed someone, or rather something, approaching them in the distance. "What the-"
Before he had the chance to finish the sentence, a bullet permanently silenced him and left behind a hole in his forehead. The other men started to panic at the sight of their dead friends and randomly opened fire around them. They didn't attempt to flee until another of their colleagues was killed on the spot; however, one of them thought of doing something bold. With his friend's blood on his shirt, the white man placed his foot on the neck of the cattleman and pulled out a pistol. That was when he issued his ultimatum. "Show yourself, or this bean-bandit gets it!"
The man pulled back on the hammer of his pistol. "I mean it!"
In the distance, a figure appeared from a boulder with his hands up in the airs. Then, they made their way towards them with their weapons in holsters. As they got closer towards them, it was clear that they were a cowboy if their attire wasn't clear enough. And holding onto a silver revolver in their right hand. In an instant, a single shot rang out as the ring finger and pinkie of the white man's hand were blown off. Before he had the chance to speak, the cowboy unloaded his handgun at the man while the cattleman watched in horror.
Then, it ran out of bullets.
The cowboy began reloading his revolver while minding their business; however, they glanced over at the cattleman and peeked at the wound. "<Will you be alright?>"
"<Y-yes. I should have enough time to make it back home before it gets worst.>" The cattleman was surprised that the stranger spoke Spanish fluently. But before he had the chance to ask about it, another vehicle was approaching them; and unlike the wannabes lying dead, the goons were actual border patrol agents armed with military-grade weapons and looking for blood. When he looked at the cowboy, he noticed that the individual was holding onto a small black notebook and keys.
"<Take the jeep.>" The cowboy threw the keys at him and then pointed at some rocks in the distance. "<Go and get to your friends hiding behind the boulders there. I will handle them.>"
The cattleman nodded and made his way to the jeep with the keys on hand. There was so much that he wanted to know about his hero. But, it was clear that time was running out. He started the jeep up and stared at the cowboy for possibly the last time. "<Thank you.>"
There was no response other than a simple nod from the cowboy. As the cattleman drove away and heading towards the boulders, his mind was overwhelmed by everything that happened to him today. But before he had the time to process them, a series of gunshots echoed across the desert and then died out in an instant. The cattleman wasn't planning on stopping after that, but he needed to know his hero's fate for that brief gunfight. Instead, he saw something that was astonishing and unbelievable in the distance: the cowboy standing over the wounded border patrol agents with the revolver in his holster.