Publisher's Synopsis
Kinane didn't break stride. He kept an even pace, his feet kicked up small puffs of dust with each step. At fifteen yards, Keno was nervous, "I said that's far enough. Don't you hear too good?" Kinane kept walking. Keno licked his lips nervously. His mouth was dry. At thirteen yards, Keno's voice rose sharply in pitch "I said stop damnit." Kinane kept walking. At ten yards, Keno let out a screech, "Damn you stop." He went for his gun. And was fast, but compared to Kinane, Keno's fast was far too slow. Kinane's Colt came up and erupted. The slug hit Keno in the chest and it shattered his breastbone before his gun could come level. Keno rose to his toes, staggered back a few steps then fell into the dust. Kinane led a small band across the Rio on a desperate mission to rescue a United States Senator and his family. Riding further raised the question of where the greatest danger lay - Ahead or behind. One thing was certain, the long trail to redemption would run red with blood.
