Colin pulled a case out from under his father's workbench. Opening the case, he found what he needed: a gift from his grandfather to his dad. The Missouri rancher had sent his father a six shot pistol and some ammo which his father had stored away, and sure enough, it was still there. He picked up the old-fashioned colt, loaded it up, and stored the extra bullets in his pocket. He crept out an opening in the shed's roof, and lept down onto a trash can before jumping the fence. Over that fence stood a half dozen bimbos, eagerly licking their lips. They rushed forward to get a taste of the hefty young man. Before any of them could claim him, he rapidly drew out the pistol and emptied it just as quicky. Spouts of blood spewed everywhere as the bimbos fell dead where they got shot.
"Never thought that day I spent in ninty degree heat out on the range shooting cans would've payed off." Colin uttered to himself as he reloaded the pistol and headed out the front gate.
Those shots were loud, the bimbos were bound to have heard. He ran into the heart of town, and from there he headed towards...