High Mesa
by Clifton Bush
Gordon Simpson had one ambition in life, and that was to pocket as many dollars as he could. He didn't count on a chance encounter with an old friend who would save his life, nor did he predict that he would run into a beautiful blonde with whom he would fall in love with.
Soon he began to rethink his life, to put behind what was and become someone better. That was until Dori was killed, and from then on he vowed his revenge. It was a long time since he had felt anger like this.
Excerpt
The wind blows eternally through the desert, constantly eroding the rock and the scrub barely clinging to life there. This is the process that has been going on for millennia, and will continue to do so. For thousands of years, water and wind have worked the land, causing giant buttes to rise up against the sky as if in defiance of Mother Nature. Layer by layer these goliaths represent time, allowing one to look back at the geologic processes that formed our planet. But the one man who was slowly riding through this part of the desert took no notice, only glancing occasionally to his right or left, or up at the sun, making sure that he was heading in the right direction.
On and on he rode, with the sun high at his back, as the sun slowly rose in the east and sank in the west. He was on his way to Colorado, to a mining town where he could hide and remain hidden, providing of course the locals didn't ask too many questions.
He was a tall, lanky man, square shouldered and slightly hunched over who had seen plenty of years. The most unusual feature about this man, however, was his eyes. One was green, while the other was an albino white. He knew he would have to find a camp that was out of the beaten path to hide his secrets, because his face was on wanted posters around the Arizona Territories and it wouldn't take much for some young buckaroo to spot him. That was something he didn't need nor want. He had been on the run going on for five years now, and he wasn't about to let some young wet behind-the-ears punk take him in. He didn't want to spend the next twenty years in Yuma Territorial.
He figured once he reached a camp, he could just blend in with the other misfits who found their way into these establishments, and make a living mining or lumberjacking. Perhaps even working for the railroad, if he was lucky enough. As long as it was a job, he didn't have to worry. He could then put his past behind him. Once someone recognized him, it was all over. He'd have to shoot his way out of another town, with another death on his conscience. That was something he could do without.
He found himself on a trail that slowly rose through the canyon, and the soil became hard and rocky. He eased his mount through the worst of it, and found it was a winding trail headed towards the mountains. He figured another day or two would find him in a small mining town or camp to where he could start his new life.
* * * *
The bounty hunter reined in his mount, and stopped, watching the man several hundred yards ahead of him. He watched him stop, look around, and continue on into the canyon to where he could finally capture him. He could almost smell the skin he was so confident of his success. He looked around, trying to find the best possible area in which to trap the man, and led his horse around to the southern part of the canyon.
Here there was a small stream that slowly flowed down from the mountains above. He let his horse drink, then got down and filled his animal skin with the cool, clear liquid. Out here a man needed water, and he was no exception despite living in these harsh conditions all of his life. He was on a mission to gain a reputation, and killing this man and bringing back his guns and horse were trophies he did not want to see slip away.
The sun was setting, and he decided to make camp for the night. He could easily follow the man, for he left a trail a blind man could follow. The horse tracks led right up through the canyon, and he made no move to conceal his travels.
