The Bounty Hunter - The Heartless Gun

By John J. Law

The flames flickered in front of the bounty hunter, as he sat alone in his little camp. 
He had no one for company, but his guns and his coffee. He had a horse tied nearby, but he did not consider the animal as company. 
He had taken it from someone he had shot and killed and there was no bond between them. 
He was cold to the animal and the animal showed likewise feelings. 
No, for all intents and purposes, the bounty hunter was alone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.C. Hulsey Books
• Release date: Dec 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223096733

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The Eye of the Storm

The flames flickered in front of the bounty hunter, as he sat alone in his little camp. He had no one for company but his guns and his coffee. He had a horse tied nearby, but he did not consider the animal as company. He had taken it from someone he had shot and killed and there was no bond between them. He was cold to the animal and the animal showed likewise feelings. No, for all intents and purposes, the bounty hunter was alone. He didn't really mind. While other men might have found such a life maddening, he had grown used to such solitude. For him, time like this alone was nothing new. A life of a bounty hunter was a lonely one. Soon, he would realize it was also a heartless life.

The bounty hunter took a sip of his coffee, as the winds and storm raged on all around him. His small tent held despite the elements raging everywhere. It was barely a shelter. There was a small tarp held over the bounty hunter's head by what appeared to be 4 sticks. The sticks looked shaky and rickety, but, somehow, they held the tarp over the bounty hunter's head. It wasn't much of a shelter, but it was a lot better than his horse that had to endure the pounding rain.

Other men would have found such a situation unnerving to say the least. The bounty hunter was sitting in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a flimsy tarp and four sticks to keep him safe from the fury of the storm. Despite that, he still sipped his coffee calmly, and seemed to genuinely be calm and serene.

For a moment, the bounty hunter seemed lost in thought. He contemplated everything that had happened to him recently. He had recently lost his pet wolf, Pitsy. Pitsy, the large wolf that he had rescued from a pit, hence the name. The large wolf that had proven its loyalty to the bounty hunter twice over, once by killing a snake that had threatened to ambush them, and then rescuing him from an agonizing death in the heat of the desert. Eventually Pitsy simply succumbed from his wounds and the sheer effort of tracking down the bounty hunter. The large wolf had given its last ounce of energy to saving him. The bounty hunter would not forget that animal. It had touched a nerve in him to see him go. It had stirred in him unusual feelings of kindness, empathy and caring. Feelings that the bounty hunter had thought were long dormant in him. The animal had brought out a softer side to the man that had known nothing but death and violence in his life.

That soft side was nowhere to be seen when he hunted down and killed Kid Cruel, the man that had left him to die out in the desert. It was because of him