[ CW ] Tell a story by foreshadowing all the action but actually describing none of it .

The whiskey hit the back of Sheriff McColl's throat with its all too familiar sting, sharp and soothing at the same time. Jesus Christ, he thought, how is it possible that there are men who do n't drink at all? He put his glass down on the bar and traced its lip with a finger. Normally he was not one to sip at whiskey, but at the moment it seemed prudent. Perhaps it was not the best time to partake of alcohol at all, he mused, but it helped to calm the nerves. His finger was trembling, though the pressure of the glass stilled it. This did not make for precise shooting. 
 
 The sun glinted in his eyes and McColl shifted uneasily in his seat. There were still a few hours until sundown. He heard the door swing open and the jangle of spurs hitting the dirt floor. Looking up, he saw McClusky enter and move to the back of the room, careful to look anywhere but at McColl. McClusky was a good shot with a rifle or a six-shooter, but he was a businessman, not a fighter. He was looking to turn a quick profit with a couple of herds he had picked up and then make his way further West, to get in on the cash coming off of the Gold Rush. McClusky was n't going to sign up to risk his life to protect this little backwater dust trap. McColl sighed and turned back to his drink. 
 
 Deputy Star had already abandoned him, fled on horseback late last night. Star and McColl had done well: rounded up two of the Sandusky Five, tried and hung them. The Five had been camped out in the wilds and hounding the town for almost half a year now, living off of the meager trade and travelers moving in and out of the town. They had taken a lot of money, raped several people, and killed a few. It had been tough enough to nab the two they had caught. The second had been especially hard: once the Five were on their guard, they got careful to stick together. But Star and McColl had kept out an open ear and heard about it when Sam Sandusky split off to go two towns over and see some lady of his. 
 
 Two days ago word had come back into town that the remaining members of the Five were coming for Star and McColl. Sundown today, they were going to make the Law pay. But McColl was not going to back down. Let them come. Even three against one, McColl was sure he could take them. McColl was a crack shot and had been in his share of scrapes; hell, he'd even seen a touch of action down in Texas during the war. The Five were just angry brutish kids who preyed on the weak and unarmed. The sheriff fingered the maple handle of his revolver. Sure, the odds were not great, but with a little bit of luck McColl figured he could pull this off. 
 
 His hand was shaking in earnest now. He shot the rest of the whiskey. Fuck it, he thought. One more, to calm the nerves, there was plenty of time. He tapped the bar.''Another.'' He sipped the whiskey. Fuck Star. He could do this. Fuck prudence, anyway. The sun glinted in his eyes again as he drained his second drink and tapped the bar again. He could do this.
