The Sour Card Game: Final Hand(Part two)

“Sour. Sour, f*ing card game,” Cole muttered, staring into the dying embers of his campfire.

The desert stretched endlessly before him, quiet and haunting under the starlit sky. In his hands, he held the note Jenny had left him—its creased edges were worn from his constant handling.

“This game was never about the gold. Run fast. Trust no one.”

But Cole was done running.

By the time he rode into the dusty town of Red Hollow, Cole had pieced together enough to know where this would end. Jenny, Big Tom, and Rafe weren’t just random players in a crooked game—they were part of a bigger scheme. The stolen shipment of federal gold wasn’t just missing; it was sitting somewhere in the mountains outside town, and they’d all double-crossed each other to get their share.

Cole hitched his horse outside the saloon, his revolver loaded and ready. Inside, the air was thick with tension, and the place was quieter than he’d ever seen it. A handful of patrons sat at scattered tables, but there was no sign of Big Tom or Rafe.

Jenny, though, was exactly where he expected her: in the corner, shuffling a deck of cards.

“I figured you’d show up,” she said without looking up, her voice as smooth as whiskey.

“You’ve got a lot to answer for,” Cole said, sliding into the seat across from her.

Jenny smirked, dealing him a hand. “You always were too honest, Cole. That’s why you got played.”

Cole ignored the cards. “Where’s the gold?”

She leaned back, her smile fading. “You think it’s that simple? You think you’re just going to waltz in here, point a gun, and walk out with a fortune?”

“I don’t care about the gold,” Cole said, his voice low. “I just want this to end.”

Jenny studied him for a moment before nodding. “Big Tom and Rafe are up in Bitter Creek Canyon. But if you go after them alone, you’ll be dead before you get close.”

Cole stood, tipping his hat. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Wait,” she called after him. “You’re gonna need help.”

Cole didn’t trust Jenny, but she wasn’t wrong about the odds. By the time they reached Bitter Creek Canyon, the sun was setting, casting long shadows over the jagged cliffs. Jenny had insisted on coming along, though Cole kept his revolver within easy reach.

“Rafe’s smart,” she said as they climbed. “Big Tom’s greedy. Put them together, and you’ve got a powder keg waiting to blow.”

As they approached the hideout, they spotted two figures arguing near a campfire. Even from a distance, Cole recognized Rafe’s sharp profile and Big Tom’s hulking frame. The pile of gold glinted in the firelight, stacked neatly in wooden crates.

“This is it,” Jenny whispered.

Cole nodded, creeping closer. But before they could make their move, a gunshot rang out.

Big Tom staggered back, clutching his chest as Rafe leveled his pistol for another shot.

“Greedy bastard,” Rafe spat. “Should’ve known you’d try to take more than your share.”

Jenny and Cole exchanged a glance. Whatever plan they had was unraveling fast.

“We take him now,” Cole said, drawing his gun.

Jenny nodded, and they stepped into the firelight.

“Drop it, Rafe,” Cole called out.

Rafe spun, his eyes narrowing. “Well, if it isn’t the cheat himself. You’ve got guts showing up here.”

“You’re outnumbered,” Cole said. “It’s over.”

Rafe laughed, the sound echoing off the canyon walls. “You think I’m scared of you two? I’ve taken on worse.”

Before Cole could respond, Jenny fired, the shot grazing Rafe’s arm. He dove for cover, and chaos erupted.

Gunfire echoed through the canyon as Cole and Rafe exchanged shots. Jenny darted behind a crate, reloading quickly. The air was thick with smoke and dust, the acrid smell of gunpowder stinging Cole’s nose.

Finally, Rafe’s gun clicked empty. Cole stepped forward, his revolver trained on the outlaw.

“Go on, bounty hunter,” Rafe sneered. “Do what you came to do.”

Cole hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. But before he could pull the trigger, Jenny stepped in, her blade flashing in the firelight.

Rafe collapsed, clutching his side as Jenny wiped her knife on her coat.

“Never trust anyone,” she said with a smirk.

Cole shook his head. “That includes you.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue.

By sunrise, the gold was gone, loaded onto Jenny’s horse. Cole watched her ride off, the sound of hoofbeats fading into the distance.

He didn’t care. For the first time in years, he felt free.

As he saddled up, he muttered under his breath, “Sour. Sour, f***ing card game.”

This time, though, he smiled.

Author’s Note:This story concludes Cole’s journey through betrayal, danger, and redemption in the unforgiving Wild West. A tale of survival, it reminds us that in the end, every hand we’re dealt has the potential to be our last.

This story, “The Sour Card Game,” was crafted with a bit of help from an AI to refine the plot and enhance its Wild West tension.

Thanks for reading-Asherif”