Raen Deadeye, SpecFic Authors [mystery books to read TXT] 📗

Raen Deadeye, they used to call me.

I'm not bragin, but I could shoot the wings ofin a gnat at a hundred yards, and the poor thing wouldn't even know he couldn't fly any more.

And I carry my grey branded guns strapped to my hips, so they all know me when they see me comin'; there's barely any muscle to me, so I had to find another way to stay above ground in this world. As messed up as it may be.

It's a poor way to live, but it's better bein the shooter than it is bein the target.

Just ask any of the thirteen men who thought to make me a challenge on account of my name.

Well, it may be time to change my name, I'm not getting any younger and as time catches up with you, so do the younger and faster names.

But before I can do that, there is one more thing I need to get done; I can't lose the name if I still got the dead eye, now can I.

Besides, no one walks away from this game, ask all those fellows in that graveyard, they'll tell you.

There's another fellow up fifteen miles north who's filled up nearly an acre of dirt with neat rows of marble crosses.

Then again, Ifin I were to disappear, who'd find me.

No one, as long as I take care of the man in the north first.

Then I can put my plan into operation, and disappear forever.

North is a hard man to track down, not the sort to be found when he's not looking to be seen, and not the sort to be seen when he's not planning on making sure a person never sees him again, if you catch my meaning.

Publication Date: 05-09-2014

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