text: [Themes: Western, combat, violence]
  
  > Go east
  They shot you in the leg, the sheriff or one of his men, but you still managed to get away. You always manage to get away. And while they're off pursuing you to, who knows, perhaps Colorado, you have quietly made your way back to where it all began. What better place to rest?
  
  With a grunt of pain you descend from your horse and lie down near the water. How good it would be to just close your eyes for a moment and sleep... but you know that you've got to take that bullet out first.
  
  "They all said I was crazy, but I knew you'd be coming back
  here," says a young voice behind you.
  
  `Mid the sagebrush and the cactus
  
  You are lying next to a small stream, screened off from the wider plains by the sagebrush around you. An ideal place to hide -- or so you thought.
  
  David stares at you, a revolver unsteady in his hand.
  
  "Why did you do it?" he asks, perhaps closer to tears than to pulling the trigger.
  
  > About yourself
  Sweaty, blood-stained -- you have seen better days. But nobody would pick a fight with you in a bar.
  
  > examine david
  He's young, about the age you were when you left for the Mexican War. And not even as tough.
  
  > explain
  "Will you believe me when I tell you your father deserved to die? I doubt it. But it's true."
  
  "I shouldn't be talking to you. I just ought to shoot you right now!" David blurts out.
  
  > Placate
  (David)
  "Maybe you should, but... you've never killed a man before, have you?" He doesn't reply, but you know the answer. Knew it before you asked the question. It's written all over him.
  
  "My father was a great man. A peaceful man! He never did anybody no harm, he was no fighter. What did you have against him?"
  
  > think
  You sort of like this boy. His father... that was different. No regrets there.
  
  (You are now slightly concentrated.)
  
  "You probably think that just because you're a bad-ass desperado, and because I am a green boy, you are invulnerable and can toy with me and tell me all kinds of lies. But you're wrong!"
  
  > Placate
  (David)
  "Let's talk, David, there's no need to hurry. As you can see, I'm not exactly going anywhere."
  
  "Even if you did have a reason to kill my father, how about raping my sister? Huh?"
  
  > explain
  "When a man and a woman meet and then have sex because they both want to, we don't call it rape, David."
  
  "Yeah? Well, my sister called it rape, when I found the two of you here at the creek!"
  
  > Placate
  (David)
  "What about... what about you just ride into town and get a doctor for me? My leg is hurting like all hell. On a Sunday."
  
  "I think I've heard enough of your so-called explanations." David grabs the gun with two hands in order to steady his aim, and points it at you.
  
  > think
  The moment the boy's father saw your face, he knew what you had come to do. "You're here to kill me," he said. It wasn't a question.
  
  (You are now slightly concentrated.)
  
  "My father will be revenged," David whispers.
  
  > think
  And you didn't answer. That would have been fatal: the second he needed to get to his gun.
  
  (You are now somewhat concentrated.)
  
  The boy's bullet hits you in the shoulder, only inches away from the jugular. You are in even more terrible pain than before. Your train of thought is derailed.
  
  > Placate
  (David)
  "Just calm down. We need to talk, before you start doing anything hasty and foolish."
  
  David seems to pull himself together.
  
  > Placate
  (David)
  "Believe me, your father was no saint. If you had known even half of what he had done, you would have killed him yourself."
  
  David seems to pull himself together.
  
  > explain
  "Well, if your sister said it, it must be true, mustn't it? I'm sure your father believed her as well, and didn't, oh, lock her up or anything?"
  
  David looks abashed.
  
  "So what did my father do to you?"
  
  > explain
  "He didn't do anything to me, but he did do something to a friend of mine called Billy. Billy was a nice boy, a little rough around the edges maybe, but at his core there was no evil. You remind me of him."
  
  "Call that an explanation? You're just liar!" David points his gun at your heart, about to pull the trigger.
  
  > Appeal
  (David)
  "Come on, David, you've got to listen to my whole story."
  
  "I'm listening -- but this had better be good." He wipes the sweat from his forehead. "Well, what about this Billy?"
  
  > explain
  "David, you see, Billy was with us in Pancho's posse, or whatever you'd call a bunch of citizens who went over the border to help with the war effort. And while in Mexico, this Billy guy fell in love with a woman. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen."
  
  "But the woman fell in love with my father, they had a row about it, and my father shot this Billy of yours?"
  
  > explain
  "No, not exactly, no. See, this woman wasn't just any kind of woman, she was what we might call a drab, a whore, a prostitute. And your father and she had an... they had... O God my leg hurts! ... they had an argument, about money. About payment."
  
  "So what happened? Billy intervened?" David spits the question at you as if it were a bullet.
  
  > explain
  "No, Billy did not intervene. I mean, he would have if he had had the chance, but he was too late. Because, you see, your father didn't like being argued with. And he didn't like being argued with by a whore, and even less being argued with by a Mexican. So he just took out his gun and shot her. Through the heart. Like, dead. Billy was waiting his turn downstairs, so he hadn't heard the argument. But he did hear the shot."
  
  "Enough talk!" David aims his gun at your head.
  
  > Appeal
  (David)
  "Don't shoot! I have so much more to tell you about your father."
  
  "Sure you can tell me a lot... of lies."
  
  The BANG of the pistol reaches your ear at the same moment that the bullet reaches your back. You feel your life slowly deserting you.
  
  > Placate
  (David)
  "If you'll just talk to me, I'll tell you everything. And then, at the end, you can make a decision. Shoot me or not shoot me. Is that a deal?"
  
  David starts reloading his revolver.
  
  > think
  He didn't really stick out when you first met him, the father. Just one of the boys of Pancho's gang, one more gun against the Mexicans.
  
  (You are now slightly concentrated.)
  
  David finishes reloading his revolver.
  
  > Appeal
  (David)
  You need to do more explaining before you can appeal.
  
  > Placate
  (David)
  You have exhausted your store of placating things to say.
  
  > think
  But it didn't take long before he rose in the ranks, informal as they were. Might even have taken over Pancho's place if he hadn't been so reckless. Not that the other guys where much given to careful deliberation, but even in that group he was know as "the madman".
  
  (You are now somewhat concentrated.)
  
  "My father will be revenged," David whispers.
  
  > think
  He didn't really stick out when you first met him, the father. Just one of the boys of Pancho's gang, one more gun against the Mexicans.
  
  (You are now slightly concentrated.)
  
  "You're really gonna die this time," David hysterically tells you.
  
  > Taunt
  (David)
  You try to speak, but only a gasp of pain comes out.
  
  The bullet goes straight through your brain. You stare at the sun. Was it ever this bright? you wonder as it slowly expands to fill your field of vision. Was it?
  
  Then you sink down to the earth.
  
  > Go east
  They shot you in the leg, the sheriff or one of his men, but you still managed to get away. You always manage to get away. And while they're off pursuing you to, who knows, perhaps Colorado, you have quietly made your way back to where it all began. What better place to rest?
  
  With a grunt of pain you descend from your horse and lie down near the water. How good it would be to just close your eyes for a moment and sleep... but you know that you've got to take that bullet out first.
  
  "They all said I was crazy, but I knew you'd be coming back
  here," says a young voice behind you.
  
  `Mid the sagebrush and the cactus
  
  You are lying next to a small stream, screened off from the wider plains by the sagebrush around you. An ideal place to hide -- or so you thought.
  
  David stares at you, a revolver unsteady in his hand.
  
  "Why did you do it?" he asks, perhaps closer to tears than to pulling the trigger.
  
  > explain
  "Will you believe me when I tell you your father deserved to die? I doubt it. But it's true."
  
  David wipes away his tears.
  
  > think
  Shooting down tough gunslinging asswipes is something you do for breakfast -- but this boy? That's not really your style.
  
  (You are now slightly concentrated.)
  
  "I shouldn't be talking to you. I just ought to shoot you right now!" David blurts out.
  
  > think
  And not just because he's so young and innocent... there's also, you know, that nagging feeling that he is justified and you are not.
  
  (You are now somewhat concentrated.)
  
  "My father was a great man. A peaceful man! He never did anybody no harm, he was no fighter. What did you have against him?"
  
  > explain
  "You haven't seen every side of him, David. I knew him long ago, in the Mexican war. Your father wasn't so peaceful then, when he was the most irregular of our whole band of irregulars. Not very peaceful at all."
  
  David ponders his options for a moment.
  
  > think
  But then again: you can't afford to be sentimental right now.
  
  (You are now highly concentrated.)
  
  "You know, I didn't come here to talk, but to fight." David's finger tightens on the trigger of his gun.
  
  > Dodge
  You try to roll aside in an unpredictable manner.
  
  David's bullet flies past your head, harmless.
  
  > think
  But then again: you can't afford to be sentimental right now.
  
  (You are now highly concentrated.)
  
  > stand
  "Don't move!", David threatens somewhat hesitantly, but you get up anyway. Seems you can stand, as long as you hold this sagebrush for support.
  
  "You're really gonna die this time," David hysterically tells you.
  
  > Taunt
  (David)
  "You shouldn't be playing with your daddy's gun. Not that he'll need it anymore."
  
  The deadly lead misses you. Another few seconds to live.
  
  > examine the gun
  (your revolver)
  One of the wonders of human civilization.
  
  > examine the david's natural weapon
  Clenched fists, kicking feet--that kind of stuff.
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You are carrying:
  your revolver (3 of 6 shots left)
  your knife
  
  > Ready
  What do you want to ready?
  
  > Gun
  (your revolver)
  "Don't do that!", David warns, but of course you don't listen. It feels good to have a gun in your hand.
  
  "You're really gonna die this time," David hysterically tells you.
  
  > Taunt
  (David)
  "You're going to shoot me here, right on the spot where I enjoyed your sister? How romantic!"
  
  His aim is too careless, and David's bullet strikes the ground behind you.
  
  > Shoot
  (David)
  A hit, a very palpable hit! David staggers back, watching the shot wound in disbelief. "I... I didn't think you could hit me."
  
  > Shoot
  revolver.
  
  (David)
  Your bullet lodges itself in David's leg. He grunts in pain and tears stream down his face -- but he doesn't seem to be ready to give up just yet.
  
  "He was in the Mexican war? I... I didn't know. But that was twenty-five years ago! Who cares about that?"
  
  > Shoot
  (David)
  You take a deep breath, concentrate, aim for the head -- BANG. You close your eyes because you don't want to see what he looks like in death.
  
  Exhausted, you fall into an uneasy sleep. When you wake up the sun is setting, and you know you must take the bullet out now. It's not going to be pretty, but you are tough. The toughest man this side of the border. It's only on the other side that you break down.