Dead Eye Samantha - 42

     It was a long hard ride for Samantha. She was torn. They were going to destroy this violent, evil, Dudley Clan. These were the people who most likely destroyed her sweet family. Though she never witnessed it, common sense told her they were all dead. The Dudley’s never leave any survivors to tell the tale, she knew that now.  Yet, the Dudley’s had become her family when she was four years old. Mama Dolly would be there, who had been the only mother she could recall. What was she about to help do to the only family Samantha could remember? Tears became her constant companions as she rode.

     On the other hand, how many innocent lives would they save by their actions today? This is a good thing; It should be cut and dried for Samantha. But somehow, it was not. Sam reconciled herself; think of her sweet, dead family each time she pulled the trigger today. Hopefully, she could remain strong, and do what she had to do.

     Half an hour before good daylight, they were in their places. Sam checked over both loaded and ready repeater rifles. She laid out all the ammunition she had within easy reach. She placed a log to brace her rifles. There was no wind stirring in the cool early morning air. She took a deep breath and measured, as accurately as possible, her shooting distance. She was ready.

     Once it was light enough to shoot well, Sam put a ball through the metal shovel leaning by the doorway of slim’s house. Sorta, ringing the bell to open up the party.  He rushed out, his gun ready. Sam bounced a .50 caliber ball off the barrel of his buffalo gun, knocking it out of his hand. He dropped it, then quickly picked it up and stepped back behind the unfinished wall. Others were stirring now, diving for their guns, some still half asleep. As soon as a man brought his gun to bear, Sam put a ball through his hat or in the stock of his rifle. Women and children were running for the hills. Everybody was screaming. Slim stepped out of the back of his house, saw LaFayette, and drew a dead bead on him. Ross had no choice. He put a ball through Slim’s shoulder. Slim dropped, rolling on the ground, and was carrying on something awful, cursing loudly.

     Sam, LaFayette, and Ross were pouring a heavy stream of lead toward the cabins now, to make it seem like the cabins were surrounded by a large posse. Ross and LaFayette wounded two men who were brave enough to try to return fire.

     Things settled down, somewhat. But there were still more men, and guns, hidden inside the walls of those unfinished cabins. Every time a man dared raise up to shoot, Sam zinged a ball by his head. Or through his hat. The Dudley’s were shocked by the accuracy of the incoming fire. Whoever was out front was shooting from at least one hundred yards away. Nobody they knew could shoot like that, except maybe Sam, and she had been gone from the Clan for a year or better. To peek over their log wall meant one would get a face full of splinters. One man was heard to holler, “Whoever that feller out front is, he’s jest playin’ with us! He can kill us whenever he pleases! Nobody can shoot like that! We gotta get outta here before he stops playin!”