The silence of the canyon was absolute, until it wasn't. The sharp clack of a stone falling from the ridge above signaled the end of the peace. Duke didn't need to see the silhouettes against the rim to know he was walked into a trap. Beside him, his unlikely ally, a man with nothing left to lose but his own skin, checked the chamber of his rifle. "They're coming," the man whispered.
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"Let 'em," Duke replied, his voice as hard as the canyon walls. "I've been in the dark long enough." Ambush at Dark Canyon
The dust of the Arizona desert hung thick in the air, a gritty reminder of the lawless land U.S. Marshall Duke Donovan called home. Behind him lay the iron bars of a cell he never should have occupied—a cage built on lies and the betrayal of a partner who vanished with the gold from a bloody bank heist. The silence of the canyon was absolute, until it wasn't