“Maybe we can—”
“No,” Deadshot cut him off before he could even finish his sentence. “No talking unless it is necessary, only riding.”
Rider wanted to argue. He also wanted to tell Deadshot that he was being mean, but instead, he kept quiet. If the bounty hunter didn’t want to talk to him, he had to respect it, whether he liked it or not. He needed Deadshot’s help, and the last thing he wanted was for the man to change his mind.
They arrived at the town that Deadshot had spoken about at around noon. It wasn’t big, but it looked very similar to where Rider was from. Rider wondered if all towns looked the same. He wanted to ask Deadshot but swallowed his words.
“What is it?” Deadshot asked from beside him.
Rider shook his head. “Nothing.”
“You’re practically bouncing in your seat. You get one question, so ask it before you explode from keeping it in.”
“You’ve been to many different towns, right?”
Deadshot nodded. “Too many to count.”
“Are they all the same?” Rider asked. He was much more curious about Deadshot himself, but when he had asked about Deadshot’s past, he had cut him off completely. Rider didn’t want to risk having to deal with the silent treatment again.
“Mostly,” Deadshot replied. “But there are some that are a little different... bigger, busier, more businesses and shops.”
That made sense, Rider thought. It was difficult to imagine places he’d never been to before, though. Maybe on their mission to find his mother and sister, they would stop at towns like that, and he would be able to see them for himself. Rider wouldn’t mind seeing more of the world; he just wished it were under different circumstances.
“And the people?”
“People are unpredictable,” Deadshot replied. “Some are good, but more are selfish and evil. It’ll do you well not to trust somebody until you actually know them, and even then, never believe everything they say.”
Before the attack on his family’s ranch, Rider had heard stories of gangs and violence, but he had never seen any of it for himself. Thinking about it now, he realized that he was probably disillusioned and that Deadshot was right. There were many evil men, and probably women, out there, and it was best to be careful.
Looking at Deadshot, it was easy to tell that the man had lived a difficult and rough life. When you spend your life chasing criminals, it’s easy to forget that there are some good people out there, and Rider did not want to forget that. He knew he could learn a lot from Deadshot and would listen to his advice, but he did not want to lose himself in the process.
Rider turned toward Deadshot. “What do we do now that we are here?”
“We ask around. Talk to the sheriff.” Deadshot steered his horse to the right, turning down a narrower road. “See if anybody knows anything about Quincy or his gang that could be useful.”
“All right,” Rider agreed. “That doesn’t sound too difficult.”
“Talking is never difficult,” Deadshot stated. “It’s knowing whether somebody’s words can be trusted that complicates things.”
“Are you saying that people will lie to us about Quincy?”
Deadshot shrugged. “There’s no way to know, but on a mission like this, you have to take everything you hear both seriously and with a grain of salt.”
They went directly to the sheriff’s office. Deadshot said that that was the best place to start and that sheriffs are generally more helpful toward bounty hunters than townsfolk.Unfortunately, the sheriff didn’t know anything about Quincy. Like most lawmen, he had heard of him before but had never actually come across him. When he heard that Deadshot was searching for him, he was rather surprised. Not once during all of this time as sheriff had a bounty hunter agreed to go after Quincy and his gang. Most men thought that going after Quincy was a sure death sentence.
When they were done at the sheriff’s office, Deadshot and Rider went to the general store. There, they spoke to the owner, but he too had no information. Their last stop was the saloon.
Considering the time of day, the place was empty, but the barkeep was there, busy washing dishes. The man was friendly and wanted to gossip, but once again, they found no information about Quincy.
Except for the bread they bought at the bakery, their visit was pointless, and soon enough, they were back on the road.
Rider knew that it wasn’t going to be easy to find Quincy because of what Deadshot and Sheriff Stewart had told him, but gaining no information at all worried him. How long was it really going to take to find Quincy?
Rider wasn’t too worried about being on the road for a long time. He would search for his mother and sister as long as it took, but his concern was for them.
If they were alive, they needed to be rescued, and it needed to happen soon.
Chapter 22
