Deadshot remembered having that conversation with the kid. It was true. Quincy was known to never back down from a challenge, and since he was still very much alive, it was obvious that he always won. “He’s never lost because he’s never gone up against me,” Deadshot replied.
“Now isn’t the time for joking,” Isabelle complained.
“I’m serious. You might not have seen it yourself, but I’m a rather good shot. Ask the kid.”
Isabelle frowned as she looked toward the kid. She didn’t ask him to confirm what Deadshot had said, but he did anyway. “Deadshot never misses,” the kid said, sounding proud. “If he says he can take Quincy, then I believe him.”
Isabelle shook her head and sat down. It was obvious that she was worried about much more than just Deadshot’s survival. She was worried about Sarah. If Deadshot failed, Quincy would leave with her daughter, and since he would have his gold back, he would have no reason to ever return. There was a huge possibility that he might try to kill Isabelle and the kid before he left as well. Deadshot would not allow any of that to happen. Isabelle and the kid might not be his family, but he cared about them.
“You’re worried about Sarah, and I completely understand, but you have to trust me on this,” Deadshot said, sitting down beside her. “I rescued you, and I will rescue your daughter, too.”
Isabelle smiled at him sadly. “I do trust you,” she told him. “I just can’t stand the idea of anything happening to Sarah. She’s already been through so much.”
“Look, before you know it, it’s all going to be over. Just take a deep breath and let me handle this.”
“Okay,” Isabelle agreed. “Thank you.”
The next couple of hours dragged by. Deadshot was too worked up to get any rest, and there was no way that he could eat. He wasn’t scared, but he was anxious to get it done with. He knew that he could take Quincy, but that didn’t stop the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His body ached in every way possible; his muscles were worn, and his knee protested against the slightest movement. It was time for this adventure to come to an end. His body needed rest.
From his room, Deadshot could hear Isabelle and the kid talking. Isabelle had calmed down a little, but not much, and the kid was trying to convince her that everything would be fine. At least the kid had faith in him. Deadshot looked in the mirror and adjusted his gun belt. For this shootout, he would use his Colt Army. It was his most trusted gun and had never let him down.
Taking a deep breath, Deadshot turned around and walked away. It was time to go. In all of his years as a bounty hunter, he had chased many men, locked some up, and killed even more. One thing that Deadshot had never done before was take part in a duel. He was strangely excited to get a chance to do it before his final retirement. After all this was said and done, Deadshot was going to go back to planting his potatoes, taking long rides, and hiking. No matter who showed up wanting his help, he simply couldn’t do it again. That did not mean that he regretted helping the kid. In fact, he was very happy that he had agreed. The journey to find Isabelle had taught him so much about himself.
Not many things scared Deadshot. He was scared of going back to his retired life—not the part where he did nothing most of the day, but the part where he was alone again. Deadshot shook the thoughts from his head and approached Isabelle and the kid. “Let’s go get Sarah back,” he told them.
Both of them jumped up from where they were sitting and followed him outside. There was no more time for arguing about what might happen. In a few minutes, they would gather in the town center, and it would all be over.
Deadshot had seen a couple of duels in his life, but he had never seen a spectacle quite like the old one. He arrived too late. People were lining the streets as if there was going to be a festival. He had no idea how they even knew about the shootout. Maybe Quincy had told his men to spread the word. Deadshot wouldn’t put it past him. The man knew how to stay out of sight and lay low, but he also thrived on attention.
The kid and Isabelle took their spots among the crowds of people. They stood close to Deadshot, but at a safe distance.
When it came to things like that, it was best to stay out of the line of fire. About twenty feet away, Quincy took his place across from Deadshot. Deadshot scanned the surrounding area, trying to see Sarah. He had no idea whether Quincy actually brought her along. Before they had the shootout, he needed to know where she was.
“Where is Sarah?” Deadshot asked, taking a step forward.
Quincy pointed to a nearby wagon. “In the back,” he replied. “Where’s my gold?”
The kid took one step out of the crowd and lifted a bag. Quincy’s eyes glanced toward it, and a small smile formed on his face. The gold wasn’t really in that bag, but they had brought it with them just in case. Isabelle was holding on to it for them.
“Enough talking,” Deadshot instructed. “Let’s do this. I want to go home.”
The crowd erupted with cheers, clearly on his side. Quincy frowned but took a step forward and assumed his position. There was silence all around them.
And then Deadshot drew his weapon. Quincy was fast, but Deadshot was much faster. Deadshot wanted to kill Quincy, but more importantly, he simply wanted to see the man dead. He knew that killing Quincy would provide much more closure to the kid than it would to him.
Deadshot shot off two rounds before Quincy could even pull the trigger. The first slug almost took off Quincy’s hand, causing him to drop his pistol. The second slug hit him in the thigh, bringing him to his knees.
The crowd watched in silence as Deadshot pulled the kid to the center of the road and placed his pistol in his hands. “Finish him,” Deadshot instructed.
The kid did not hesitate as he raised the gun, aimed it at Quincy, and pulled the trigger. His aim was true. The slug hit Quincy right in the chest, killing the bastard on the spot. Deadshot had taught him well.
The crowd burst out cheering, but Deadshot’s attention was already on the wagon.
As soon as Quincy toppled over, the wagon started to move. Deadshot jumped into action and ran after it. Luckily, the road was busy and blocked with people who had come to see the shootout. Deadshot ran as fast as he could, ignoring the pain in his knees.
Behind him, he could hear Isabelle and the kid yelling at people to stop the wagon. It wasn’t unlike townsfolk to help in such a situation, and Deadshot watched as a whole bunch of men bombarded the wagon, bringing it to a stop.
Two men jumped off the front and two out of the back. They all had weapons, but they were hugely outnumbered, and the crowd quickly subdued them. Sheriff Watkins would take care of them.
