The front room stank of death and powder. Blood was sprayed on the painted walls and two corpses lay crumpled on the floor. One was sprawled under a table in a pile of splintered wood while the other was slumped around the corner of the bar. A thin trail of blood formed a puddle between them.
Tuco’s boots splashed through the puddle when he flipped over the body under the table. His boot prints traced a path behind him as he walked over to the remains of the other one.
The young boy stole a glance at the body behind the bar. A glistening snake ran down the man’s right arm, its scales as still as the dead.
A cry of anguish escaped Tuco before he cursed loudly and cried, “Who did this?”
The only reply was the stampede of the boots on the wooden floor of those left standing and the squeak of the hinges on the swinging door as they bolted for the outside.
He grabbed one of the working women as she tried to get past him, “Who killed my brother?”
She whimpered as the sound of a hammer being pulled back on a pistol echoed in the room. “Tell me who did this.”
A voice that lacked all emotion cut through the silence, “Stop.”