The dry desert wind blew across the McCarthy farm, kicking up dust as Ella trodded through the fruitless field. The farm was nothing special. A single barn sat on the edge of the four acre property far from the road, mirrored by the homestead which sat right up against the property line that bordered the dusty trail. Another drought had come across and killed all hope of the farm ever seeing any green. A bead of sweat ran down the farmhand’s face as she pulled a a scarf across her face to keep from inhaling sand. She was about to head back into the barn when a familiar voice rang out, sending chills down her spine.
“Afternoon’ miss Carlisle, still tryin’ to for a miracle on this god forsaken property I see.”A single man paced up from the gate. Ella gritted her teeth underneath the scarf, her mind spinning. What was he going to do to her this time?
“I’ve gott’n nothing for you, Mista’ Smith.” Her voice quivered.
“Why don’t you just run along..?”A sickening grin spread across the goon’s face at her words. He began to slowly walk towards her, drawing his gun. He held the revolver loosely at his side, continuing to advance on the slender farmhand.
“I don’t wan’ any trouble Miss Carlisle, but we had a deal. If you don’t hold up your end, you’re forcin’ my hand.”Ella turned an bolted for the barn, knowing full well what he meant. Her boots slammed against the dusty, hard ground but it was hard to run across the uneven terrain. The goon gained on her at every step she took. She looked up across the yard. The barn stood no more than fifty feet in front of her. She was going to make it. Ella’s heart pounded in her chest and her hope was rising, right before she was tackled to the ground. The man held her to the ground with a knee and grabbed her shoulder length, brown hair in his hands. Pulling her up to her feet by her hair, the man shoved her to the wall of the barn and held her there, pinning her wrists above her head. She was all but helpless as he tossed her through the barn doors.
Laying winded on the ground, Ella watched as the goon stepped over her and straddled her waist, ripping at her belt with his hands. She had only moments to spare. A plan spun in her mind and with all of the remaining willpower she had, she executed it. She launched herself upwards and reached for the revolver at the man’s hip, tearing it from its holster and planting it in his gut. Ella braced herself for the noise and squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet speeding from the end of the weapon and into the goon. He recoiled in pain and fell backwards, hitting the ground with a firm thump.
"Fucker!" She screamed.
She wasted no time. One of Dawson’s other goons would have surely heard the shot. Ella re-tightened her belt and stuffed the revolver in between it before grabbing the lever-action Model 1876 that lay propped against the wall. She ran to her horse that was already saddled and clambered on top, sliding the rifle into the holster attached to the saddle. As she rode out of the gate, two horsemen were already riding towards her from down the road. She’d guessed that they’d already know the fate of their buddy and proceeded to speed towards the center of town, unknowing of the situation that she would come across.
Ella yelped as a shot flew over her shoulder, but wasted no time in drawing the stolen revolver and returning fire. The horse and rider flew around the corner as gunshots erupted from behind her, barely keeping traction on the dirt road. People emptied from the streets as Ella tore through the crowd on horseback, emptying the last of the revolver’s ammunition in the direction of her assailants. She was too preoccupied to notice that she was no more than twenty feet from colliding with the men surrounding Leo and his crew. Ella slammed into the first horseman and hooves flew. Both riders crashed to the ground in a rather spectacular manner and all fell quiet, if only for moments.