Anthony froze. His breath caught in his chest. He hadn’t made a sound, but something had given them away.
A rifle clattered as one man stepped into view, scanning the rocks with sharp eyes. Another leaned out from behind a crate, squinting into the shadows.
Abigail ducked, her voice a whisper tight with fear.
“Anthony, they’ve seen us. Left side!”
It was too late to be quiet. A shootout was inevitable. There was no reasoning with Vanburgh’s men, especially in these circumstances.
Anthony pivoted and fired a bullet from his Colt 1851 Navy revolver, aiming to disable rather than kill. A man stumbled, clutching an arm. Another dropped behind the crates as dust curled around him.
“Damn it! It’s Hawk!” the man shouted.
From behind one of the crates, another man edged closer with his Winchester rifle raised. Anthony ducked behind a boulder and returned fire. The bullet ricocheted off the stone, spraying gravel into his hair.
“You’re not supposed to be here!” the man yelled, advancing.
Anthony kept moving, firing again. “And you’re not supposed to be handling explosives like that!”
“Anthony, he’s circling!” Abigail said from her spot behind a boulder. “He’s trying to flank us!”
Anthony’s eyes flicked to the movement. “I see him. Cover me, Abigail.”
“I’m trying!” she hissed.
To distract the flanking man, Anthony rolled a small boulder down the slope. He tripped, giving Anthony just enough time to fire a shot into his thigh. He yelped, collapsing to the canyon floor.
“You missed!” the man shouted, regaining his footing.
Anthony ducked instinctively when he heard another bullet coming toward him. “Not today!”
Crates of dynamite rattled nearby as bullets splintered stone around them. Abigail fired a single shot from her Colt Paterson revolver, aiming to disable another man trying to climb the rocks. The bullet connected with a boot, sending him stumbling.
“Got him!” she called, a mix of relief and adrenaline in her voice.
“Nice shot,” Anthony said, glancing at her briefly.
Then he focused on the last man. Moving carefully, he used the canyon’s twists to force him back step by step.
“You can’t keep this up forever!” the man barked. “I’ve got reinforcements coming!”
“Then you’d better hope they’re faster than you,” Anthony replied. “I’m not slowing down.”
“Anthony, we need to corner him before he reaches the fuses!” Abigail said from his side.
“Agreed,” he said, advancing carefully. “He’s getting desperate.”
It was impossible to tell what Vanburgh’s men were thinking. If they were set on blowing up Eagle Rock, who was to say they couldn’t push the plan forward?
“You think you can trap me here?” the last bandit shouted. “I know this canyon like the back of my hand!”
Anthony fired again, forcing him to retreat behind a crate. Dust and splinters flew.
“And I’ve fought in tougher spots than you!” Anthony called back.
The canyon walls narrowed, giving Anthony the advantage. He stepped forward, cutting off the man’s path. “End of the line,” he said.
The man glared, his face streaked with blood and dirt. “This isn’t over, Hawk!”
