[b]"Oh darlin', oh darlin', what have I done?"[/b] The low drawl hummed over the defiant engine as McClintock's Ford roared to life. The beast knew the trek to the precinct as well as the old lawman and it lurched to be free. The  gunshot echoed as the tailpipe backfired, a war cry in the early morning light. Moralez was dead. The roar settled into a droning purr as the charioteer dropped into gear. The beast was a quiet hunter when it wanted, two gleaming eyes shone bright as it careened through the sleepy streets dodging potholes and stop signs alike.

[b]"Oh darlin', oh darlin', what have I done? Can I stop at one? Or have I just begun?"[/b] The wizened voice mumbled nasally again, spilling out from under a grey mustache and dribbling down a stolen deputy's uniform. No, not stolen. Never returned. Earned through years of service and hidden through a black and bloody night,  illuminated by the blaze of several lifetimes lost. But this was not that night - however much the fire in the man's veins felt the same. The heat bubbling just beneath the surface, lips taut around the taste.

Steely eyes scanned the horizon as the world zipped past. Some suits had come to Blackriver to investigate the recent string of murders and McClintock would be damned if he wasn't there when they did. Too many times those straight black suits hid shriveled black hearts and Roy wasn't going to be just another victim of the sick bastard. The engine roared as the beast took yet longer strides, the speedometer climbing. Bright white teeth with gnarled lies behind, he'd seen it in 'nam and he'd seen it at home; no man can be trusted with dominion over another. The eyes winced as he remembered the night Sheriff Hayes let a guilty man go free to cover the department's ass. It was the last straw, his last night as a Black River County Deputy...

The beast simmered as the gravel greeted its tires, McClintock pulling into the drive already half full with dark vehicles and no doubt darker intentions. It was time.

He knew they'd seen him. Two on the front porch, younger than him but carried a world between them. The beast returned to its slumber as the old cowboy sat a while in the silence, a stretch of land between him and whoever these falcons were that swooped in and took the case. Seemed odd suits would care for a local killer but as long as Roy was avenged it didn't matter. McClintock took a deep breath and slid from the clutches of the beast as he began his trudge toward the house, his last refrain dying on chapped lips.

[b]"The blood'll fill the gutters and stain the mornin' sun."[/b]