The fuse ran along the floor, disappearing into a crude arrangement of powder kegs. One spark, one careless move, and the entire ridge would erupt. The thought made him stagger, yet he forced himself to steady. He couldn’t afford fear. Not when he had made it this far.
“You’ve gone insane,” Anthony said, his voice low but carrying the weight of command. “This isn’t winning. It’s death. You’ll kill everything around you, including yourself. Step away.”
Vanburgh laughed, a short sound that grated against the nerves like metal scraping stone. “Insane?” he hissed, eyes wide, pupils blown by rage. “I am the only one who sees clearly! You, all of you...crawling around like rats, trying to steal my empire, my power! One push, Hawk, one push, and it all ends. Forever. Clean. Perfect.”
Anthony shifted slightly, pressing his back against the shack’s corner with his Winchester leveled. He could see the tension in Vanburgh’s shoulders, the way his hand trembled ever so slightly over the switch.
“I don’t think you understand,” Anthony said slowly, trying to sound calm. Trying to inject reason into the madness. “You’re not winning. You’re losing. And you’re going to die here if you touch that switch. I won’t let it happen.”
Vanburgh’s lips curled, the faintest sneer breaking through. “And who’s going to stop me?” he spat. “You? You’re one man, Hawk! One fool standing where hundreds should be! You think I care about your friends down there? Your Shoshone warriors? Your little deputies? They’re dust waiting to happen!”
Anthony’s finger brushed the trigger. He thought of Brigg, injured but alive somewhere behind him. He thought of Abigail, still down in the valley patching wounds, still alive because of their efforts. He thought of Red Hawk and Black Wolf, holding their positions under impossible fire.
He could not...He would not let Vanburgh end it all here.
“I’m the one standing here,” Anthony said, his voice hard. “And I will stop you. Right now.”
Vanburgh laughed, his eyes darting to the switch, then back to Anthony. “You’ll have to kill me, Hawk,” he said. “Kill me, or we all burn.”
Anthony exhaled. His boots shifted against the ground. The Winchester’s weight in his hands grounded him. He had the advantage only if he could keep his mind clear.
One wrong shot, one hasty move, and the ridge would be gone.
“You’re not thinking,” Anthony said, stepping closer, his eyes locked on Vanburgh’s. “You’re scared, cornered, and desperate. This isn’t power. This is madness. Step away. Now.”
Vanburgh’s lips twitched in amusement. “Madness? Maybe,” he admitted. “But at least I control it. At least I control the ending. And I will, Hawk. I will see it done, and you won’t stop me!”
Anthony’s hand didn’t waver. He shifted again, moving cautiously.
The Winchester raised, trained steadily on Vanburgh’s chest. His pulse roared, blood hammering in his ears, but his mind remained sharp. He needed a plan, a clear strike, and he needed it now.
“You’re not thinking about the powder,” Anthony said, his voice low, closer now. “One spark, one slip...and you die too. Maybe first. Do you want to die like that? Do you?”
Vanburgh’s eyes flicked to the powder kegs, then back to Anthony. Rage and fear mixed in the rail baron’s face, twisting it into a grotesque mask.
“Let me see you try, Hawk!” he shouted, hand jerking toward the switch.
Anthony lunged, the Winchester snapping upward and kicking fire. Vanburgh twisted, and the switch was missed by mere inches. Sparks hissed from the mechanism as Anthony’s shot tore past, shattering a board above Vanburgh’s head.
Vanburgh recoiled with wide eyes. Anthony pushed forward, closing the distance. Every instinct screamed to be careful. But there was no room for hesitation.
“You’re done, Vanburgh!” Anthony barked, stepping closer. “One more move and it’s over. You don’t get to win this. Not today. Not ever!”
The rail baron’s breathing was ragged, eyes darting wildly. Sweat and grime streaked his face, and for the first time, Anthony thought he saw doubt. It flickered just beneath the surface of his madness.
Anthony pressed the advantage, sliding around the shack with the Winchester trained on Vanburgh. The fuse sizzled faintly, a reminder that the clock was ticking. Every second was a threat. Every second mattered.
“You’re finished, Vanburgh,” Anthony said, his voice like steel. “Step away now. I’m not gonna give you any more chances.”
Vanburgh hesitated, a flicker of panic crossing his features. Anthony could see it. He could see the man’s mind racing. The madness teetered on the edge of reason.
Anthony’s heart pounded in his chest as he forced Vanburgh’s eyes away from the fuse. There was no room for error. He couldn’t let the rail baron’s madness dictate the end of this fight.
“Look over here!” Anthony shouted, yanking the Winchester upward and stepping left, hammering his advantage. Vanburgh’s eyes flicked toward him, hand twitching toward the switch again.
Anthony’s voice sharpened as he spoke. “You think this makes you powerful?” he asked. “You think this gives you control? You killed my family, Vanburgh. Shot them down like dogs.” His fingers flexed on the trigger, his voice shaking with barely restrained fury. “Do you know what that feels like? To see them like that and feel completely powerless?”
Vanburgh narrowed his eyes. There was madness behind them.
