"David L. Robbins - Endworld 05 - Dakota Run" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robbins David L)

Relishing the spectacle, the seven other horsemen had reined in and
were viewing the event with unrestrained mirth. One of them, a bearded
man in buckskins, was the first to glimpse the newcomer. "Look!" he
shouted, pointing.

The horeman with the lariat saw his companions gesturing wildly and
shouting as they goaded their mounts in his direction. For a moment he
thought they were cheering him on, until he abruptly realized they weren't
looking at him, but at something else. He twisted, facing front, and was
completely startled to observe a man in green standing in the grass,
perhaps one hundred yards off, with a rifle to his shoulder.

So much for minding his own business! No one deserved this type of
sadistic treatment. The newcomer sighed and fired, the Marlin recoiling
into his right shoulder.

Reacting as if a giant had slammed him in the forehead, the horseman
catapulted backwards, the rear of his cranium erupting in a crimson spray
of flesh, blood, and bone. He tumbled from the mare and landed on his left
side, immobile. The mare slowly came to a stop, confused by the sudden
loss of its master.
 The man in green shifted, sighting again. Their countenances reflecting
both rage and grim determination, the remaining seven horsemen were
coming straight at him. Even as he aimed, the newcomer marveled at
their expertise, at their superb horsemanship. They were riding bareback
at breakneck speed, seemingly part of the horses they rode. Four of them
were garbed in buckskins, the rest being attired in pants and shirts of
various colors. Three carried rifles, one a bow and a quiver of arrows, two
held handguns, and the last a gleaming lance.

The riflemen posed the deadliest danger.

Just a few yards more! He wanted to be sure, knowing he couldn't
afford to waste a single shot. The Marlin only held four rounds, and he'd
expended one of them on the joker with the lariat. He fired again.

A bearded horseman was forcefully propelled from his mount, falling
onto the grass in a crumpled heap, his Winchester flying from his lifeless
fingers.

The newcomer turned slightly, hurriedly fixing on his next target.
Another thunderous report rolled across the valley as a third horseman
collapsed.

Only one with a rifle left!

This one unexpectedly veered to his left and reined in, his rifle sweeping
to his shoulder.

The two long guns boomed simultaneously, and the horseman jerked