Liquid light from an oil lamp. Greasy light. A light that stained everything it touched and it was all over Eddie Fast Elk as he leaned over the table in the saloon, his gun still warm. Blake was leaning back in his chair and choking on his blood. The cards were all over. Some hidden in the darkness, others glistening in the light, the staining light. Eddie looked over at the bartender and nodded and then turned back toward Blake. “Call me a cheatin’ son-of-a-bitch, again.” He grinned as Blake tried to breathe.
The bartender came over with a bottle of whiskey. “You want a glass?”
Eddie stood up and then grabbed his pistol. “He ain’t gonna need one.”
The bartender shrugged and put the bottle on the table. Eddie holstered his pistol and started for the door. The bartender went back behind the bar.
Outside, the sun had gone down and what was left of the light was smeared across the jagged rocky peaks of the mountains to the west. Eddie untethered Blake’s horse and then slipped onto his own slowly, and then quietly left town.