Violence at Sunrise

Nothing was going to stop Lute Dunbar from getting his revenge - and certainly not the man who now stood before him, blocking his way. He said: “If you plan on grabbing that gun, mister, you’d best get to it.” The invitation hit Cobb like a slap. Knowing there was no way back from it now, his right shoulder dipped, his knees bent just a fraction, and he was fast - damn fast. But so was Lute. A small red hole punched into Cobb’s shirt front and knocked him back through the batwings. He hit the boardwalk beyond with a hollow thud, and as the batwings flipped open and shut, open and shut, Lute saw him squirm for a moment, like some gigantic worm, and then slowly roll onto one side, and finally over onto his stomach. That was when Lute saw Cobb’s back. There was nothing small about the exit wound. The .45-caliber slug had ripped Cobb’s spine in two.