Seeing that he was in a sort of passage area, there was no way to hide, and Deadshot had to act fast and be accurate. He shot off one round after another, the three men advancing on him, falling like flies being swatted from the air.
Deadshot was just about to reload his pistol again when he heard approaching footsteps. So instead, he holstered his Colt and drew his Winchester. Two men came into view from around the corner. They stopped in their tracks when they saw him, as if they recognized who he was. One of them actually looked scared; he dropped his weapon, raising his hands in the air.
The other one clearly did not expect that because he looked stunned. Too bad he would never get the chance to ask his friend why he had done what he had done. Deadshot aimed his rifle at the confused man and pulled the trigger. The shot exploded from his rifle, and the sound echoed loud and clear off the walls.
With his rifle aimed at the man, Deadshot approached the bandit. “I’m looking for Quincy and two women,” Deadshot told him. “Where are they?”
The man was shaking and crying as he shook his head. How on earth did such a person make it into Quincy’s gang?
“Tell me,” Deadshot demanded.
The man could barely speak; he simply mumbled some unintelligible words that Deadshot could not make out. He didn’t have time to waste. He was trying to figure out what the man was saying, so he put the bastard out of his misery with a slug in the chest and moved on.
Deadshot cleared out two more caverns that had been turned into rooms. One had held two bandits, and the other three. None of the men had given themselves up like the bandit in the passage had, but they had all chosen to stay hidden away. They’d clearly expected something, but they had been too afraid to come and see what was causing the chaos. Deadshot took them out one after the other. A couple of them got in a few shots, but Deadshot was quick and managed to avoid getting shot.
Being in the heart of a gunfight felt great. Just like that night he had helped the kid, Deadshot’s instincts had taken over. He was enjoying the thrill of the fight, but he hadn’t forgotten why he was there. He had taken out many bandits, but he still hadn’t found Quincy or the kid’s mother and sister. Surely, they had to be there.
Walking along the passage, Deadshot heard the faint sound of a woman’s voice. He froze in place for a moment, listening again and hoping his ears weren’t deceiving him.
“Help!” the voice yelled again. “Someone, please help me!”
Deadshot took off running down the passage, and there at the end were two more doors. Deadshot threw open the first one, but the room was empty inside. This room was decorated fancier than the rest of them, and Deadshot got the feeling that it had to belong to Quincy. He didn’t bother looking around because the woman was still crying. She had to be in the other room. Turning around, Deadshot noticed that the door was bolted closed from the outside. Quickly unbolting it, he tugged on the handle and threw open the door.
In front of him stood a stunningly beautiful woman. Her dress was torn and dirty, and her face was stained with tears, but still, she looked like an angel.
She was frozen on the spot as she stared at him, probably wondering if he was there to save her or kill her.
“Are you Isabelle?” Deadshot asked, lowering his pistol.
“Yes,” she replied, taking a step closer to him. “Please tell me you are here to help.”
“I came especially to rescue you and your daughter,” Deadshot said and watched as relief washed over her face.
Without warning, she rushed forward and threw her arms around him. “Thank you,” she wept. “Thank you so much.”
Deadshot was stunned, not knowing what to do. He couldn’t believe that the kid’s mother was actually still alive after so many months, but even more unexpected was the hug.
“You are welcome,” he told her when she finally let go of him. “Now, where are Quincy and your daughter?”
“I don’t know. Quincy took her away. I haven’t seen her in weeks,” the woman sobbed, clearly unable to control her emotions. “He told me I would never see her again.”
Deadshot did not like the sound of that at all, but he was relieved to hear that the kid’s sister was still alive. “All right, you can explain everything that happened to me later. Right now, I have to get you out of here.”
Isabelle nodded as she grabbed a lantern and started following him.
“Did you kill all of them?” she asked, stepping over a body.
Deadshot noted that she did not sound unhappy about the fact. “Sure did,” he stated. “I hope that makes you happy.”
“Extremely happy,” she replied. “Wish I could have done it myself.”
“That tells me everything I need to know about you.” Deadshot smiled at her. She was brave, just like the kid had saidshe was. “I think I got all of them, but stay behind me, just in case.”
“You single-handedly killed all of them?” Isabelle asked, sounding surprised and impressed.
“Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it later.”
“How did you even know I was here? Why did you come to save us?”
