Prelude to a Massacre

"Fine, have it your way." the witch cackled. "I'll go up into the mountains, where you can find me in case you change your mind later."

She vanished in a puff of smoke and Fred turned to his subordinates. "We'll need to prepare defenses against One-Eye Pete and his gang."

"Sure, boss! Whatever ya say!" the deputy grinned toothlessly. Fred explained to the townspeople what they had to do, and went to practice his gun skills. About an hour later he came back to check on their progress and was greatly disappointed. No polearms were being sharpened, no spike pits were being dug, no oil was being boiled. Instead, the townspeople were throwing their possessions on horse-carts and hurriedly making their way out of town.

"What's wrong with you people?" Fred exclaimed, striding among them. "You're giving up your homes? Running away without a fight?"

The townspeople mocked him and threw clods of manure at Fred. Off in the distance, some local girls were rolling Prissy in the mud out of spite. An old lady explained "We've prepared for this day for a long time, sheriff. We knew One-Eye Pete's violent nature, but we thought as long Prissy was obedient to him he'd spare our town. Now we've got no choice but to move out and start another town out there somewhere."

"And you think One-Eye Pete won't follow you?" Fred said. "Running away solves nothing!"

"Things was fine till you showed up, sheriff." sneered a local lad. "I reckon we'll have to take our aggressions out upon you now."

The local lad and his friends jumped on Fred and gave him a thorough stomping. Then they took all his jewelry and ran off.

When Fred regained consciousness it was almost midnight. The town seemed completely abandoned, with only crickets chirping. Fred found his hat and gun, dusted them off, and walked to the main gate.

"I guess its all up to me now." Fred said. "It's a thin line between order and chaos out here in this arid land. So arid... hot... could sure use some water right about now."

"Here you go, sheriff." Prissy said, sneaking up behind him with a flagon of wine. "This'll quench your thirst."

Fred goggled at her. She had cleaned herself up and changed into a light yellow dress and moccassins. Her hunting rifle hung at her back.

"Prissy! What are you still doing here?"

"Couldn't leave you to fight One-Eye Pete all alone." Prissy smiled, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "I reckon you were right back there. No matter how far I run, One-Eye Pete will catch me. So I'll settle my hash with him right here and now."

"But its suicide!" Fred protested. "Your only hope is to run!"

"Not necessarily." grunted the coroner as he approached. "You see, I just couldn't leave my business here... to rot. And I have a feeling that business... is about to start booming."

Fred goggled at him too. The coroner was dressed in a heavy black cloak and wore two massive silver crucifixes on his back. In a display of weaponskill he snatched them both off his back and twirled them in midair with slicing action, then blew a can off a fence fifty feet away with a hidden shotgun.

"That's my pa!" Prissy beamed. "And that's not all! Jeb the stable boy and the crazy old prospector from the bar have decided to stay too! That makes five!"

"Yee-haw!! Giddyap little doggies! Time to bag us some cow rustlers!" the old prospector hollered, waving a pickaxe around as the stable boy just sort of stood there, vacantly staring up at the sky.

Fred turned to see a cloud of dust on the horizon, and heard One-Eye Pete's onerous roar of "PRISCILLA!!!". His blood ran cold as he realzied there were at least twenty riders approaching.

1. Think of a plan to trick the bandits into dividing their forces, then methodically snipe them out from windows.
2. Have everyone make a final stand at the belltower.
3. Use Prissy as bait to lure Pete into a final showdown.

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