Fragile

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A brown eye opened.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A brow furrowed.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A jaw muscle tensed.

BANG! BANG! “OW!”

A heavy sigh issued from beneath the bedclothes before a hand grabbed the sheets and threw them roughly to one side.

Hannibal Heyes swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. His bare feet planted themselves on the cold wooden floorboards of the leader’s cabin. The world swirled around him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the room to settle. When he reopened them everything was back where it should be including two noteworthy empty bottles lying on the floor. Heyes groaned.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Heyes cussed and stood up. The room started to move again and his stomach gave a sickening flip. Barefoot, and clad only in his long johns, Heyes headed towards the door.

 

***

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Fully clothed (I know! How unfair is that?) Kid Curry sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, and head in his hands.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

He groaned.

BANG! BANG! “OW!”

Kid smiled and stood up, his hand resting automatically on the gun at his side. He grimaced as his ears did their best to meet somewhere in the middle of his head.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Kid gave the window, and whoever lay beyond it, a gunfighter’s glare and headed for the door.

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