The Badge of Ashes Style: Libro Vaquero The sun over Sonora was a hammer, and it beat down on the small town of Santa Miel until the dust rose like ghosts from the dirt road. In the cantina La Mala Estrella , a lone figure sat with his back to the wall.
Bruno did not move. His voice was gravel scraped over bone. "Talking is for men with breath left to waste, Rafael."
Bruno Cruz walked out into the brutal sun, a dead man with nothing left to lose, heading toward the mountains where the coyotes would not dare follow. Behind him, Santa Miel returned to its dust. And El Libro Vaquero would remember his name for one more page.
Bruno’s hand moved faster than a rattler’s strike. The Colt roared once, twice, three times. The two gunmen in the doorway crumpled before their hands touched their pistols. The third bullet took Don Rafael’s hat off and pinned it to the wooden wall behind him.
The batwing doors creaked. A man in an expensive charro suit entered. He was clean-shaven, with soft hands and a crueler smile. His name was Don Rafael Mendoza.
