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By the year 1914, Chuparosa had become a large settlement. People were busy walking from place to place, in their suits. The richest people, used to drive cars, and there was a road for them in the main street. Landon Ricketts was sitting in a chair in the middle of the night, wondering were was now the Wild West now. That glorious time were the people were free and he could breath pure air instead of this new one filled with cars pollution.
He heard a shout from behind a house, far from the main street. He stood up, and walked towards the place.
- Help me!- a woman screamed.
-Shut up will you.- A man told her, while threatening her with a High Power Pistol.
The man was wearing a red kerchief, and was making the woman a hostage. Landon Ricketts sticked to the shadows, and went to cover, trying to be as silent as possible. The man started speaking to the woman.
- You are coming with me little beauty.- And started making her walk with him.
At last, Landon Ricketts went off cover and took out his old Schofield revolver out of his holster.
- What the hell do you think you´re doing sir.- the man looked back and saw him aiming at him.
- Nothing old man, just get the hell out of here if you want to live.- The man´s face was covered in sweat.
- Listen to me, you don´t know what you´re doing, just take your hands off the lady and go away to start a new life. Landon put his Shofield back to his holster. - You can do this friend, put your gun down like I´ve just done, and tomorrow you´ll be a new man.
He was right, they both knew that. The man´s eye´s filled with tears. He thought of the chance that he had, he remembered about his past , he had lost everything because of being an outlaw, his job, his family, his home. But he thought they would be gone in vane if he didn´t continue being it.
- Shut up !.- The man shouted, and aimed at him with his High Power Pistol. He fired six shots to the man´s chest. His body dropped to the ground.
The man then shoot the woman in the head and ran away, out of the town´s walls. A posse of seven lawmen were waiting for him there. They shot the man several times until he was down in his knees. He was tasting his own blood, and his shirt was filled with it too. A single lawman walked to him and aimed his gun to his head.
- Any final words?.- He asked.
The outlaw looked him in the eyes and spitted to the ground, blood. A shot came out of the lawman Colt 1911, and his body fell face down.
Landon Ricketts was in the ground, in his own pool of blood. Images of his life were flashing in his eyes. About his friends, dying in Blackwater, years ago, about seeing his son riding with a gang and commiting crimes. He reached for a necklace under his shirt, his hands were covered in blood. He found a picture, of her wife. He felt a lot of pain in his chest, and started coughing blood. He knew his life was over, he had have a good one, and he was proud of it. He coughed again, and the picture of her wife was splattered. He looked at the moon, and his eyes started to close. He then felt everything gone silent, he was in peace.
The next morning, a croud of people attended his funeral. A young man was there, watching the old man´s face being covered by a piece of cloth. He remembered what his father had told him about the man, about he had met him years ago and was gifted with a Schofield revolver. The man looked to his holster, he been using it all those years since his father died. His wife was crying and cleaned her tears with a handcuff. She was pregnant, hoping to have a boy. They knew which name they were going to put him, a name which would make him proud. Landon.