When the two tall, orange-haired singleton men passed Billy’s gate they saw their quarry standing out in front of the house, posed to draw and shoot.
“What do you think, Cort?” one asked the other.
His twin looked at him and they both stopped a hundred yards from Billy Gostman and Pat Garrett. “I don’t know, Cort. I don’t expect it matters much what they do, do you?”
“Nope.”
Ekka came out onto the porch, but neither Billy nor Pat took their eyes off the strangers.
“Go on back in the house, honey,” Billy said. “I’ll be in directly.”
Ekka turned and went back into the house.
Billy raised his voice, “State your business.”
“Apprehending,” one of the two beings named Cort replied.
“Who are you wanting to apprehend?” Pat Garrett’s voice boomed across the yard.
“Him,” the other stranger said.
Pat said to Billy, “Sounds reasonable.”
“What are your names?” Billy asked.
“Why?”
“’Cause I like to know the names of the people I kill.”
The two laughed as they dismounted.
“Cort,” one of the two said.
“Cort,” the other intoned.
Pat whispered again, “Looks like we got two Corts here. What are the odds?”
The two men named ‘Cort’ stepped together in tandem toward the waiting men.
“That’s close enough,” Billy called.
The two stopped. “For what?” one of them asked.
“For this.” Billy’s hand was a blur and Pat’s hand followed his a mere fraction of a second afterward. Two loud reports echoed across the yard.
A hole appeared in the chests of each of the strange men. They looked down at the holes over where their hearts should have been, regarded each other for a moment, and turned back to Billy and Pat. They began walking forward again, their long paces covering much ground.
Billy looked at Pat. “What are the odds?”
Billy and Pat began firing in tandem.
Five holes each filled their chests before the gunfire ceased and the forward saunter likewise ended.
Pat turned to Billy. “Head shot?”
“Why not.”
They raised their pistols, took dead aim and fired as one.