"No!" I shouted as I forced my ass to move. I lunged at Roland and with the help of my good hand I managed to divert his shot, sparing Nigel as the bullet ricocheted off the bark just inches above his head. "You don't know when to give up, do you!?" Roland strained as I wrestled him for control of the gun.

I knew over-powering him was a long shot; All I needed to do was distract him long enough for Nigel react. I managed to knock the weapon out of his hands. More thunder roared as the storm above us intensified. "I'm gonna make sure you never get up again!" He hissed through gritted teeth as he clasped his hands around my neck.

"Ni...gel," I croaked beneath his grip, my lungs burning as the lack of oxygen began to make me dizzy. I scratched at his hands, my nails tearing into his skin but he didn't budge.

A minute.

I counted every excruciating second that passed without air. The choking noises that slipped from my mouth sounded foreign. I could feel the pressure begin to build behind my eye sockets as he tightened his hold. "That's it you fucking fairy, just go to sleep..." He sneered.

After two minutes my vision began to blur. I tried prying his fingers off but I'd lost most of my strength. Stars filled my vision as I recalled the night we'd arrived in Nevada; our proximity. Just what had it been that Nigel wanted to ask?

Three minutes in and my limbs lost all their strength. Like wet noodles they fell as I finally stopped struggling. "That's it Nancy, just close them tired eyes of yers." Another bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating Nigel's silhouette as he scrambled for the gun. "Let him go!" He screamed once he had it in his grasp. Nigel's command made him grin.

"Fine. Let's not do anything rash, shall we?" The Southerner huffed as he reluctantly let me go. A pained gasp fell from my lips as my lungs expanded and air whooshed in like a tidal wave. I slid slowly to the floor, my back against the sycamore as I wheezed. Through watered eyes I watched the stand- off.

"Come now son, you and I both know you ain't got the jewels to fire that 'ere cannon. Especially not at one of yer own." Roland reasoned as he took a step towards him. "Try me." Nigel warned as he removed the safety. "Now I don't see why we can't settle this like men." He began, taking yet another step. "Don't move!" Nigel screamed again, aiming the cannon at the old bigot's head.

"Ok, ok. Not movin." He remarked as he held his hands up. "Don't wanna end up like that poor doe you mutilated." Nigel gritted his teeth, clearly bothered by the other's comment. I wanted to tell him not to listen. I wanted to urge him to pull that trigger, but I couldn't speak; My vocal chords had been rendered useless.

"How about we forget all this 'ere trouble? You give me back my strap and we can all go our separate ways." He enticed.

"You're full of shit." Nigel growled, not budging from where he stood. "I see then. If that's the way you want to go about it, guess I have no choice." Roland conceded as he bent down to tie his boot laces.

Before Nigel could react, Roland chucked a handful of mud at his face, effectively obscuring his vision as he charged. Nigel cried out in pain, the soil stinging his eyes as Roland made a grab for the gun. They both wrestled for control, firing off a few shots into the air during the struggle.

The outer corners of my vision began fading, dissipating into black as I struggled to stay conscious. The pair found themselves by the edge of the creek where sharp rocks awaited at the bottom if they fell. Roland pushed Nigel's jaw back, forcing him closer to the edge. "No..." was all I could manage to say with my injured throat.

Nigel pushed back, turning the tide on the old bastard just as another bolt of lightning illuminated the area. The brightness seemed to catch Roland off-gaurd, causing him to slip and fall backwards. He landed poorly, his neck snapping when it collided with a rock.

And just like that...he was dead.

Nigel stood there beneath the rain, his breathing agitated. His tan button up was torn, dirty. Stained with blood I assumed was his. He stared at the dead cowboy, rage still coursing through him. "Shoot...him." I managed to croak out between breaths. Nigel turned to me bewildered. "He was...bit." I warned just as he began moving again. His tattered jeans had ridden up, exposing the infected bite on his ankle. A sickening crack, followed by a growl filled the air as his blank eyes reopened and he began to turn.

Without a second of hesitation Nigel fired, emptying the clip into the corpse's skill, effectively ending his rein. Once it was out of ammo, Nigel tossed the gat into the creek beside Roland.

"Nate!" He huffed once he was by my side. "Can you stand?" I rolled my head weakly, his voice distant.
"Shit. I'll take that as a no. Okay, hold onto me as tight as you can and don't let go." He instructed, lifting me into his arms with ease. "Don't, I'm heavy..." was all I could think as he carried me. "Before you protest, no. You're not heavy. Just relax, we'll be there soon..." He assured.

For the first time ever, I listened. I allowed my heavy head to rest against his chest as he walked. He still smelled, wonderful. His scent was sweet, inviting; the kind I knew I could never grow weary of. I closed my eyes as we moved, vertigo gripping my disoriented mind. Finally, after nearly a month of torture, it was just me...and him.