Midnight Escape: Maxwell's Fury.

The sun was still high in the sky, though it had started to dip towards the horizon. It was a welcome relief from the relentless barrage of rain which had been falling since late morning. The bar was a dingy, dusty place called “The Rusty Nickel”. He had come here on purpose; this was one of those places people would be unlikely to look for him if he wanted to lay low.

He was wearing a stained and mud-splattered brown leather jacket, with a blue and white striped shirt underneath, black trousers and scuffed, worn down boots. His hair was lank and unkempt, as were his features. He hadn’t shaved in three days and he could feel stubble prickling at his chin. There were dark rings under his eyes - he hadn’t slept much in the past few days either.

A group of cowboys sat at the bar, dressed in their best stetsons and waistcoats with white shirts and bowties underneath. They were celebrating something or other; they had been drinking steadily since they arrived earlier that afternoon and were now well into raucous laughter and snorting. He noticed them because they looked so out of place; most men would have donned an overcoat or simply stayed indoors during this weather. They had chosen to brave the elements instead - maybe it made them feel more rugged or manly to endure nature unfettered by clothing and shelter? Regardless, their joviality bugged him as he tried to relax and enjoy a drink himself.

He took a sip of whisky and grimaced; it tasted like paint thinner but he needed it after everything that had happened today. A bounty hunter named Samuel Banks, who Maxwell knew would show up eventually, had finally tracked him down to this town after a day of relentless pursuit through the wilderness. Maxwell had managed to hide in an abandoned house yesterday evening, but then Samuel must have discovered his whereabouts somehow because he arrived early this morning while Maxwell was still sleeping off yesterday’s exertions. First came heavy pounding at the door - rather than wait for him to open it, Samuel shot the lock in its hinges instead, splintering wood everywhere as he barged into the house before Maxwell could react.

It only took Samuel seconds to locate him once he ran inside; he knew what he was looking for immediately: a wanted poster hung up on one wall showed a man who looked exactly like Maxwell Jones standing next to a dead body with a smoking pistol in his hand. Though there wasn’t much detail about the crime itself, it didn’t take much thinking for Samuel to figure out what was going on.

Samuel raised his rifle and pointed straight at Maxwell’s head; there was fighting chance but no way out now that Samuel knew where he was hiding. Maxwell stood up from his bedroll slowly, hands held up in surrender as Samuel said quietly: "I've got you now."