‘Stabs’ McGraw was bushwhacked by the notorious Stewarts brothers and left for dead. Forced to drink his horses blood to live Stabs Mcgraw stumbled around in delirium.
As the unforgiving sun beat down on him, Stabs became aware of a figure on the horizon. He hoped that it would be someone who would help him, but feared he was not of a lucky disposition to entertain such a notion. Stabs had never had any luck his whole life and he sure as hell never had anyone who would help him. Not without getting something in return at least.
Days passed and Stabs dragged his wounded body ever closer to the direction of home. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being observed. Was it the Stewarts brothers come to finish him off, or where they merely, cruelly waiting for him die?
On the fifth day he crested a hill top and there stood before him was the silhouette of that same figure that that been on his heels this whole time. Forcing him on wards. Was he even real or was it a figment of Stabs own tortured imagination. If it was the later how could Stabs have imagined something so strange so alien.