America 1881: Legend of the West

It's normal for a sheep to have no expression, but it's a ghost if it has an expression.

This large group of sheep circled the sheepfold and kept "bleating" in their mouths.

Fred looked everywhere for traces of the gunman, but he looked for a long time and couldn't find any clues.

Sheep, white fences, and flags flying more and more vigorously on the railings.

Apart from that, there is nothing.

Is it possible that I heard it wrong and that the bullet was fired from another direction?

There won't be any ambushes in this poor ranch, right? But James obviously only has those few people? This firepower doesn't look like it can be achieved by one or two people!

Did he find foreign aid?

Thinking of this, cold sweat broke out on Fred's back, and he looked behind again.

The crackle of gunfire still echoed over the pasture. The fighting around the house was fierce, but in the direction of the sheep pen, everything was quiet.

Damn it, forget it, capture James and his family’s house first, there are dozens of people there, so I’m scared.

At this time, more than a dozen of Fred's men had gathered around the house.

However, due to the resistance inside and the pressure of the unknown attack behind them, they all moved to the other side of the house and no longer dared to rush into the house. They only shot at the people in the house through the broken windows.

The situation in the house was not good either. There were only five or six people left who could still fight with guns.

James was defeated. A piece of flesh was scraped off his arm by the bullet. His father gritted his teeth and found a piece of cloth to wrap himself in, and continued to look in the direction of the door.

There was a ringing in Emily's ears, and her weak shoulders were numbed by the recoil of the rifle. A pile of bullet casings had fallen around her, but the direction she was aiming at the main entrance had not yet been broken through.

Howard's leg was injured. He leaned against the corner of a pair of windows, jamming the angle of the window.

He was running out of bullets, but he did not shout for support from his companions because he knew that there might not be many companions in the room.

Moreover, if he once shouted and revealed that he was about to run out of bullets, Fred's people would pour in like a tide outside the window.

Mrs. James was usually a conscientious woman who didn't even touch a gun, but at this moment, she also picked up a gun in her hand, which belonged to an old cowboy who died in the house.

She stood by her husband with a gun, changing her usual gentle image, like an enraged lioness, shooting bullets at the gangsters who invaded her private territory.

"Go to hell, you scum!" she cursed while loading bullets.

Father James, who was standing by, couldn't say anything. His wife's fighting spirit was strong, but her marksmanship was hard to describe. He could only pray that she would waste less bullets.

Fred was extremely annoyed now. It was ridiculous that dozens of people couldn't capture a room.

He is well aware of the fighting capabilities of his gang.

At the beginning, I was tempted by the loot, and I was able to rush down with a lot of strength. Once time passes, or too many people die, the remaining group can run faster than rabbits without having to give orders themselves.

No, there are already people hiding behind the bunker and passively working.

"Set fire! Burn them!" Fred shouted.

He didn't care much anymore, even though dozens of minutes ago, he had already acquiesced that this house was his.

If the house burns down, you can still build it again. If anyone alive escapes, your trip will be in vain.

He wanted to resolve the battle before it rained heavily. Even if he used smoke, he would smoke out the people inside.

Besides, in this hellish place like New Mexico, it doesn’t rain less than once in half a year, and it’s not uncommon to see clouds but no rain.

He had to take a gamble.

The place where hay is stored is not far from the house, next to the stables.

Fred's men rushed to carry straw, piled it up in the corner of the house, and hid far away near the stable.

None of them dared to turn to the front of the house.

The fire was lit.

At this time, the wind was howling over the pasture, and the fire took advantage of the wind and flew high.

The houses in the ranch are all made of wood, which is Flame's favorite food.

The flames had climbed up the side gables and licked the roof.

A large amount of thick smoke poured into the house, and the people in the house were miserable under the fire and smoke.

"Cough, cough... Emily, rush out quickly. Your father and I will cover you and rush out." Mrs. James' eyes were so smoked that she couldn't open her eyes and shouted downstairs.

However, as soon as she spoke, she accidentally inhaled a breath of poisonous gas, her head suddenly became dizzy, and she fell to the ground.

Father James put down the gun in his hand and helped his wife up on the ground, but he could no longer hold himself up.

First floor.

Howard had finished shooting the bullet, and the flames burned in his direction first. The whole room was filled with billowing black smoke, and nothing could be seen.

He held the gun and leaned against the wall, quietly waiting for death.

Fred's henchmen had already evacuated from the surroundings of the house. They were retreating to the nearest bunker, and then watched the people in the house being burned to death, or being beaten to death themselves when they ran out.

But before they could take a few steps back, a series of gunshots rang out over the pasture, like a barrage of gunfire.

This time, none of the six people who retreated the fastest ran away. The positions of being shot and falling were different, but the parts that were hit were all the same.

Head.

All bloomed.

This time there was one more than last time, and the remaining people could neither retreat nor rush. A death zone was formed between them and Fred's position.

Everyone looked at the place where the gunfire sounded again.

Or the direction of the sheepfold!

In the sheepfold, the sheep on the outermost edge of the flock kept blindly following the sheep in front, running along the fence outside the sheepfold. The layers of white inside were constantly squirming, like a white vortex, and like a white vortex. It is a white compass that is constantly rotating inside and outside.

"It's fatal! The sheep is killing people!"

One of the thugs next to Fred screamed in horror.

He heard his grandmother say that goats are the incarnation of the devil and sheep are children of God. He is now afraid of both.

"Shut your stinky mouth!" Fred hit the man on the head with the butt of his gun.

The man's hat was smashed off and his body fell limply to the ground.

"What a fucking coward." Fred didn't believe in God or the devil. He raised his gun and aimed at the sheep.

The sheep in the flock shuttled back and forth, constantly challenging his vision.

"There seems to be someone in the sheepfold!" Fred finally discovered something fishy.

There were bursts of white smoke floating in the sky above the sheep. It was just because it was too dark and far away, coupled with the strong wind and the white cover of the sheep themselves, that they could not see clearly.

Only then did Fred remember that Rhodes and the other two people he had sent to the warehouse had not returned.

It seems that there is really an ambush.

But what he never expected was that the ambush would be inside the sheepfold.

"Quick, they are hiding in the sheep, get rid of them first!" Fred turned around and began to look for targets in the sheep.