Barry Litton lay on the earthen floor of the shack with a bullet in his ribs. Outside, gun in hand, waited his old enemy-the hired killer Rann Duval. Duval laughed mockingly. "Litton. I've got you trapped. Are you coming out?" Painfully, Barry got to his feet. "I'm ready, Duval." Then, blood-soaked and exhausted, he stepped into the moonlight, six-gun cocked, ready to kill or be killed.
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