Midnight Rider

BULL’S-EYE

As if suddenly realizing someone was watching him from behind, Frank Penta turned around, smoking rifle in hand, and looked at Rochenbach through a haze of gun smoke. Seeing that Rochenbach had him cold, the rifle in Rock’s hands pointed, aimed and cocked at him, Penta gave him a strange, tight grin.

“Some fight, huh, Rock?” he called out above the roar of gunfire, sounding as if the two of them had been close friends.

“Yes, it is,” Rock agreed. His right eye fixed down the rifle sights; he squeezed the trigger….