Last Man Standing Word Count 300

The flame shifted with the restless wind and an occasional ember broke rank, leaving the stronghold to float lightly in the cold, dark, blue-black sky slowly dancing then disappearing before turning ash gray onto the rock. The James Gang encircled the fire and discussed their plans for splitting the bounty. They just performed a string of bank heists that stretched from the Southeastern border of Dakota, down through the heart of Nebraska, and ended right here in Red Mesa, Arizona.

They were the most wanted men in the west and they knew that they could no longer run as a band. It was time for each man to take his cut and go his own way. Garrett stood a full head and shoulder above the rest. He pulled his rifle from the gunny sack and slammed the stock against the padlock that secured the wooden locker full of greenbacks. A few more good raps and the entire piece of hardware broke free as it fell clanging to the rocky ground. He flipped open the lid and one by one handed out the bills neatly stacked into perfectly even bundles.

When the locker was empty the men picked it up and threw into the fire. Made of old dry pine boards if fed the flame as it whooshed high into the midnight sky. Then Jesse stepped away, “Excuse me boys I gotta to for a little walk to .. you know take care of business. Ill be right back. He turned and walk beyond the small patch of grass entering the woods and disappearing into the shadows. From behind a large Sequoia he pulled his two six shooters from their holsters, took careful aim, and one by one dropped each man before they had a chance. Mission accomplished.