Author's Note: I wrote this story in response to a contest on Fanlib where the mission was for us to introduce people into a new fandom.

Course of Action

They were seven men. Men that drifted from place to place with no family to tie them down. The dusty horizon was their future, their horse leading them to their next destination. Of the seven, none of them knew exactly how the gang had formed. It just happened one hot summer day in the region of Four Corners. Each man could not turn down the job offer. Five bucks split between seven men wasn't intriguing, but they had a conscience and knew it was their duty to help defend an Indian village that was south of town. After this mission they made a pact to stick together, fighting for a community that had become known for it's outlaws, backwater saloons, and absence of law enforcement.

The odds were never stacked in their favor. They always were outnumbered going into a fight, but with the strong teamwork they possessed they somehow made it through. They were a prime example of how good always overcame evil.

Four Corners was a dry and desolate place. The population staggered since the rough and tumble gangs made their presence. Chris Larabee, the leader of the group, didn't want to stay so long. He was known as a drifter and was never seen in the same place for longer than a week. The town needed him. How would he be able to sleep at night if he turned his back on the place now? What would happen to the innocent folks who had no other choice but to live here, day in and day out, who feared to cross the street at 12:00 noon on a Monday? He couldn't live with himself if he allowed such hatred to take place when he could have helped prevent it.

They had began a reformation, the only option now was to finish it. Chris was thankful of the men that had joined him, but always wished they had more manpower. There were so many times they had barely made it out alive after a gun battle or back alley brawl. Luck played a major role in how they had made it this far. They all knew how to handle a gun, but there was only so much luck a man had until it eventually would run out. He feared when that would happen, but there was no escaping the inevitable.

They had so many chances to go their separate ways and get on with their lives. Just when the town looked to be getting back to normal, some new situation would pop up and they felt obligated to stay and see it through. None of the men were sworn in officers of the law, but were treated that way by the townspeople. It was implied that they would always be there through thick and thin, despite the fact that the seven were trying to take care of things in their past that couldn't be left ignored for too long. The gang probably would not be able to function if one of the members left town or passed on.

Chris leaned back in a wooden rocking chair on the front porch of the Long Branch Saloon, beer in hand, thinking about the next battle and when it might be. It was always the calm before the storm that had him contemplating his men's futures. Though none of them ever said it out loud, each time they answered the call of duty it could possibly be the last time they would see one of their own.

He had never given much thought to the men's talents and contributions until today. He would need every skill his men had to offer in full force. There was a band of renegade outlaws traveling in from Nevada and their reputation was known all the way up in New York. They were notorious for murdering anyone who got in their way, including women and children. Four Corners was rumored to be their next stop. The talk was that the odds were ten to one against the good guys. The thought made Chris' stomach sink low. He had a plan to meet them before they ever made it to the city limits. He had little time to devise a course of action, and figured now would probably be his best bet.

Each man was important to Chris and played a part in the reason the seven hadn't been hurt worse than before. They all had their own personality and could be different as night and day, and it made Chris wonder how they all got along. There were times they got on each other's nerves, but it was a brotherly relationship and they always found a way to forgive and forget.

Vin was an alleged murderer in the town of Tascosa. He was wrongly accused, but there was still a bounty on his head. He had been trying hard to get back to Texas and prove his innocence, but the Four Corners crime rate was keeping him from doing so. Chris was glad he stuck around. Vin was excellent with a black powder rifle from long distance. He would have Vin set up a post on a cliff overhead to serve as a sniper if things got totally out of hand.

Buck was a known womanizer but that didn't matter, he was the comic relief of the group and Chris was glad to have someone make him laugh from time to time. There were times that they would be near death with no way out and Buck was still smiling or making a joke about something. He had known Buck the longest out of all of them, even long before Chris' wife and son were murdered. He was quick to draw and knew anything there was needed to know about guns. Since Buck was so fast he would have him near the front to spot any sudden movement. He needed his speed to take care of any rebellious outlaw who jumped too soon during a standoff.

Ezra was a gambler and a quick thinker. He kept a snub nosed pistol up his sleeve to catch people off guard when he was forced to drop his revolver. He could talk himself out of any situation and was clever to boot. Ezra had walked out on Chris and the gang when they had to help out the Indian village, but came back at the opportune time. Trust was an issue for awhile, but Ezra had proved that he was there to stay. Ezra would serve as the speaker for them. He would definitely get the outlaws riled up, and possibly frustrate them to the point of being clumsy with their instincts.

JD made Chris nervous. He was a soft paw from the north but was showing great promise. Chris would guess that the kid was probably only eighteen or nineteen. He had tried so hard to talk JD out of following them, but the boy was stubborn. Chris had warned him that if he wanted to go to an early grave he was welcome to stay. Buck gave JD a hard time too, mainly about his tiny top hat that northerners were known for wearing. Chris could tell that Buck cared for JD though. He wouldn't have wasted his time razzing the kid if he didn't like him. Chris knew that he wanted JD behind him, to block him from any danger but JD would never stand for that. It was worth a try and even if JD somehow got around him, hopefully it would be when the fighting began to dissipate.

Josiah was the spiritual one. He always made it a point to bring faith to the boys when things weren't going so well. The sign of a crow always made Josiah leery. The crow symbolized that death was near. The only question was if it was one of their deaths, or that of their enemies. He had aspirations of building a church in Four Corners one day, in hopes that people would turn towards religion to help the morale of the town. He wanted Josiah right beside him. He had pinpoint accuracy with his forty-five-caliber revolver, and his peripheral vision was known for spotting men coming up blindside.

And last but not least, was Nathan. He had good medical expertise. He had worked in the field as a slave, picking up injured and dead soldiers during the Civil War to bring in for examination. He wasn't a licensed doctor, but he had picked up bits of information along the way. It was enough to help out an injured ally in the midst of battle. He was definitely convenient when quick first aid was needed. Nathan was phenomenal with a knife. He was more precise with throwing an ivory handle shank than any of the men were with their handguns. He wanted Nathan coming up on the scene from behind to catch the renegades off guard.

Chris moved his boot through some dirt that had gathered between wooden slats on the porch as he thought about his battle plan. Doubt settled in his mind, but that's how it was before every confrontation. His men would agree with his decision on their locations, but he still feared he was leading them straight into their coffins.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, his instincts forcing him to grab his gun from his left holster. It was Buck, the same smile he always had painted across his lips.

"Something on your mind, partner?" He ran his fingertip over the edge of his mustache and sat down in the rocking chair to Chris' side.

Chris pursed his lips, sipping down the last remnants of his beer. The liquid was luke-warm, causing him to wince from the awful taste on his tongue. "Just thinking up on how we are going to take down the McGlowery gang."

Buck nodded and Chris noticed him eyeing a woman that made her exit from the saloon. He turned his attention back towards him, his smirk fading as he too, was probably thinking about the near future. "Go into it like we always do. We'll be fine."

Chris sometimes wished that he were as laid back as Buck could be. But he was right. Their game plan had worked from the very first battle at the Indian village. To change it up now would be a mistake. "I suppose you're right. Just keep a level head and stay calm."

Buck nodded as he spun the cylinder of his revolver down his leg, making a clicking sound as each chamber passed by. "You got it Chris. What time do you want to mount up?"

"Three o'clock. Pass the word along."