To say Ank was cornered would have been an understatement; in fact, he was surrounded: surrounded by the strange, pale raptors who circled him slowly within the corral, surrounded by the corral’s fencing, surrounded by the townsfolk who had pressed against its perimeter and trained their rifles and pistols upon them, and surrounded by the sound of Rimshaw’s voice, which echoed off the nearby buildings, the Papago Cash Store and Bauer’s Union Market, Fly’s Boarding House, the Palace Saloon.
“You only need remember two things,” he shouted, aiming his rifle at Ank—and only Ank. “And that is to aim for the armored dinosaur’s eyes ... and that he is the bigger threat. Now let loose some hell, and let’s take back our town.”
His voice cracked and seemed to change tenor as he shouted.
“Belay th
