walker

All the inhabitants of the exiled lands are divided into two categories: those who walk in the sand, and those who are buried in it.Walker is better than anyone else, knows that the hunter's head is standing among these dunes, how his life becomes lonely and fragile, like a dry stalk.But before dissolving in the wasteland, he must take revenge. Noon.Everything around is floating from the heat: cities, rocks, anthills ... Yellow sandy plain stretches to the horizon, where it converges with a bright blue sky.Noticing Waker in a sultry haze, a distant figure rushed off.Walker lifted his hat and looked at the vulture circling in the embroidery: “Do you want to eat?Well, friend, then do not lag behind. ” "I'm very sorry, but we have no places." Walker turned to leave, when he suddenly noticed a familiar figure in the hotel.Volcolac, one of the sandy claws - the very ones that attacked the caravan three years ago.Wolfollax also recognized Walker.He heard of a madman with a huge shotgun and laughed at these tales, but now he was not laughing. The owner of the hotel immediately realized that these two were deadly enemies, and yelled: “We have a rule here: no murders in the hotel! This is an unwritten rule, but we do not have others.They rest here - no one wants to become food for vultures.Try only to kill someone in my hotel and you can forget the way here. ” "Do not kill in the hotel, you say?" "Well, yes ... wait for!"When the owner again opened his mouth, it was too late. Ba-bah Wolfollax flew through the hotel door right on the street and fell, loosening the sand.He squeezed his jaw and stared at the shotgun in Waker's hands.His chin still pulsed from the impact with an butt.Volkolak saw Walker left the hotel and aimed at a shotgun.His trunk was now looking into the very soul of a Volkolak. Ba-bah The hotel shook a strong roar.Sand and dust sprinkled from each slit and cracks in the walls.Walker turned back to the hotel and opened the door.The sun shone brightly behind him, turning it into a terrible silhouette.Having pulled a cigarette out of a leather cloak, he lit it from the still red -hot trunk of weapons. "Two remains." Walker sat in his room and cleaned the shotgun.Since his friend died, this was the only thing that he could rely on.Two comrades were arrows in the imperial army.Their friendship was stronger than death.Three years ago, they accompanied the caravan going through the desert when sandy claws attacked them.His friend died.Walker vowed to take revenge, but the commander did not allow - supposedly, it was not according to the charter. Well, to hell with the charter!On the same day, Walker brutally beat his commander and deserted.He knew that if he wants to take revenge on his friend, he would have to do it alone. Walker went to the exiled lands.In this deserted hole only two things were appreciated: weapons to eliminate obstacles, and money to buy information. He became a bustle hunter, making a name for himself on the most difficult orders with violation of all possible rules.Everyone began to be afraid of him, and the image of a loner was fixed behind him.On the money earned, he bought information about the five leaders of the sandy claws responsible for the murder of his friend, and tracked them. Given today, he reached three.Lame George and Wild Frank still remained alive. "Ba-bah!"Waker bullet hit the lamp wick and extinguished the fire.Outside the window, shadows thickened, and a stifled moan came from the darkness. Walker blew the smoke from the barrel of his pistol, reloaded it and returned it to the holster.Unlike a bulky shotgun, he never released a gun from his hands.The spy of sandy claws, hiding outside the window, had already run away for a long time.Walker allowed him to leave.He waited for the enemies to swallow the bait. “Come, guys, I have enough bullets for everyone.” Noon.The ruthless sun made points on the horizon almost invisible.The detachment, sent by sand claws, was waiting for Walker.They hoped to drive him into a trap. Having jumped off the horse, Walker stared at the opponents.From under the fields of the hat, he looked around their faces and recognized the lame George. The distance to sandy claws gradually decreased.They came closer, squeezing the ring around the Walker.They watched his every movement, expecting him to reset away.Lame George, play a scorching heat.A drop of salty sweat fell into his eye, and at the very moment when he blinked, the blurry figure of Walker moved in front of him. One by one, shots thundered above the sand.The smoke mixed with sand and dust, hiding the battle from sight.The roar, flashes and screams merged into a single voice of a terrible beast that fell into a cage of dust and smoke. Walker in a calm step came out of the smoke curtain and looked at the vulture right through a new hole in the hat."Flone, buddy." Jumping on the horse, Walker lit a cigarette.Behind the vulture and his brothers, a feast has already begun. "One left".