Jake was floating in darkness, with no sense of direction and no little voice to tell him that he should care.

A sound. Jake looked sluggishly in that direction. A tiny pinprick of light could be seen, glowing faintly.

The creature making that light smiled in satisfaction as it saw the tiny figure get slowly up. As the gunslinger came closer the creature could see a pair of faded leather riding chaps and a checked shirt with a bullet hole torn in it. A worn red neckscarf was tied around Jake's neck and a ten-gallon hat shaded his eyes. His belt held two empty holsters, his face an empty expression.

The creature strengthened the light around itself so it couldn't be seen and gazed at the lost soul before it.

"Jake Coltman," it boomed officiously. "Bullet to the chest. What a violent way to go."

Jake blinked slowly. He was so tired, but felt compelled to say something.

"Where... Where am I?" he slurred, wondering if he was drunk.

"Where you are does not matter," the creature said. "What matters is where I am sending you."

Jake woke up a little. "What... Do you mean?"

The light dimmed slightly and he caught a glimpse of a great being that seemed to be half angel and half demon. It was an immensely tall humanoid figure swathed in a white toga with leathery wings fanning out behind it.

"Ah, Jake," it said mournfully. "Your enemy needs to be stopped. I made a grave mistake in giving him a second chance. Promise me that I have not made that mistake again."

Jake's vision began to fade. He didn't resist.

"Take out the colt and save the guardian," the creature said faintly, as if speaking from some great distance. "And watch for the crawling creatures, and the man who calls himself king."

Jake struggled to round up his thoughts, like a cattle-herder on a lagging horse. But the cattle ran free and he fell into oblivion.

***

Colt watched Jake's body jerk as the bullet tore into his heart. He felt no remorse, but fear still lingered. He doubted this man. He doubted that he would give himself up like this.

He unlocked the door in preparation for his men removing the body and sat himself heavily down at the desk, his back bowed as if under some unseen burden.

A cough. Colt whipped round faster than lightning.

Jake's body jerked as if he had been shot again. It straightened. It opened its eyes.

Colt's own eyes widened and he lurched backwards out of his seat. This was impossible. It wasn't real.

Jake smiled. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to be alive again?"

He stretched. "'Course, I wouldn't have experienced it if some bastard hadn't shot me."

Colt fumbled for a gun. "And I'll do it again! I-I'm warning you!" Suddenly he wasn't the confident leader any more. He was that scared young man in the elevator shaft.

Jake lurched to his feet. He took a moment to find his balance before staggering towards the door of his cell like a string puppet. The door swung open.

"You didn't even lock the door!" Jake cried incredulously. "I could almost feel sorry for such a fool."

"I unlocked it after I shot you, you dozy fuckwit!" Colt said savagely. "I thought you were dead!" He clicked the safety catch on his own guns. He didn't trust Jake's.

Jake swung the cell door shut behind him with a clang. Grabbed his gun and ammo belts. Grabbed his six-shooters.

Colt readied his own. He made the first shot.

The bullet tore through Jake's left shoulder, jerking it backwards. He kept coming. Fired his own bullet into Colt's heart. He stood.

Colt emptied the remaining five chambers of one gun, but Jake only smiled.

"I was given a second chance too, amateur," he leered. "Now neither of us can die." And, without even aiming carefully, he shot right between Colt's eyes. The younger man flailed backwards, smashing right through the old wooden door and out into the sun. People stopped and stared in astonishment.

Jake stepped out from the jailer's hut, blinking in the dying light. Someone screamed and suddenly everything was chaos. Women and children raced inside their homes while husbands and sons struggled to load their guns as they ran towards Jake.

He smiled lazily. A tiger waiting to pounce.

The other men crowded round. Colt lay motionless.

"You've killed him!" one man shouted. Jake waved his hand. "No, he's not dead," he answered nonchalantly. "Just... Stunned."

The man wasn't convinced, even when Colt groaned. Jake decided to simply call him the Stupid One.

"We ain't got no order to keep'm alive!" the Stupid One shouted to the others and discharged his first bullet into Jake's chest. Jake rolled his eyes.

"You're ruining a good shirt, boys!" he called to them and raised his own gun. "You've made me angry."