When the Clock Strikes Twelve

::16::

   Clara Clayton stood outside in the warm heat, wearing a purple dress. She waited patiently for her train to arrive, ready to make her way back to her love, unaware of what was happening back in town.

   Seamus McFly walked into the saloon, looking around the surroundings.

   "Come on, Doc. Come on. Wake up, buddy," Marty begged.

   "Wake up, Doc. We don't have time for this," Rosie continued. She kneeled beside him, shaking the collar of his shirt slightly in an attempt to wake him.

   "Seamus! Wasn't expecting to see you here this morning," the bartender said.

   "Aye, but something inside me told me I should be here, as if my future had something to do with it," he said, not understanding just how close that hit to home. Rosie sat up from where she was kneeling to look at Seamus.

   "My god these people are clueless," Rosie whispered to herself.

   "You have no idea," Marty replied, looking at her. The two made eye contact, and she quickly reached across to take his hand nervously.

   "Don't worry. Everything's gonna be fine," she whispered. He kissed her hand quickly, before returning to helping their friend.

   "He'll come around in a minute," the bartender said.

   "Let's go, Doc. Wake up," Rosie said. They then heard horses outside of the building.

"Are you in there, Eastwood?" Buford Tannen yelled. Marty's breath hitched as he risked a look behind him. "It's 8:00, and I'm callin' you out!"

   "It's not 8:00 yet!" Marty exclaimed, standing up and looking out the window. Rosie bit the inside of her cheek, worried that he would say the wrong thing.

   "It is by my watch!" Tannen called back. "Let's settle this once and for all, runt. Or ain't you got the gumption?"

   "Marty. What does the picture say?" Rosie asked with panic evident in her voice. He took the picture out of his pocket and looked, seeing the words 'Here Lies Clint Eastwood.'

"It doesn't say anything," he lied, tucking it back into his pocket, not wanting to worry her. He then called back to Tannen. "Listen. I'm not really feeling up to this today, so I'm gonna have to forfeit."

   "Forfeit. Forfeit? What's that mean?" He asked his gang.

   "Um, it means that you win without a fight," his goon said.

   "Without shootin'? He can't do tha- hey you can't do that!" He yelled angrily. "You know what I think? I thin you ain't nothin' but a gutless, yellow turd, and I'm giving you to the count of ten to come out here and prove I'm wrong! One!"

   "Doc, come on," Marty said, turning around and walking back towards his friend.

   "Sober up, Doc," Rosie said.

   "Get up buddy. Let's go. Come on," Marty tried once more as Tannen continued to count down. Marty and Rosie looked at each other.

   "You better get out there son," someone nudged. "I got a twenty dollar gold bet on you so don't let me down!"

   "Marty you can't go out there," Rosie said with unshed tears in her eyes as they continued to try to wake their friend.

   "You better face up to it, son, 'cause if you don't go out there-," someone said.

   "What? What if I don't go out there?" Marty asked, all of the chanting getting to him.

   "You're a coward. And you'll be branded a coward for the rest of your days. Everybody everywhere will say Clint Eastwood is the biggest yellow belly in the west."

   "Here," a man said, sliding a gun across the counter. Marty caught it before it could hit the floor. Rosie grabbed his arms, forcing him to look at her.

"Marty you can't go out there," she repeated, breathing heavily.

"Look at me. Look at me," he said, holding her arms tightly. "I'm going to be okay."

"But-," she said.

"Rosie," he said, getting her attention. "It's going to be okay. I love you."

"I love you too," she replied, allowing the tears to fall from her eyes. As he heard Buford Tannen yell the word ten, he pulled his girlfriend in for a passionate kiss. It felt like a scene from a movie. As the man shouted the countdown from outside, they ignored it. For the one brief moment, it was just to the two of them.

"Did ya hear me, runt?" Buford called out. "I said, that's ten, you gutless, yellow pie slinger!"

   Marty and Rosie separated, and Marty held her face in his hands. He looked at her, thinking about how lucky he was that he had her. That what when he realized, he couldn't lose her. Chicken or not, Marty was getting out of there. Alive.

   "He's an asshole! I don't care what Tannen says! And I don't care what anyone else says either!" Marty exclaimed, and Rosie smiled, glad that she had finally gotten through to him. Right as he finished his speech, the Doc bolted upright. Rosie smiled widely, mentally cheering. They could get out of there. Marty turned around and the two ran towards the man.

   "Doc!" They exclaimed.

   "You okay?" Rosie asked.

   "I think so-, whoa," Doc said, holding his head tightly. "What a headache.

   "Listen, you got a back door to this place?" Marty asked.

   "Yeah, it's in the back," the bartender said obviously.

   "Let's go," Rosie said.

   "Are you coming out here, or do I have to come in there after you?" Tannen yelled as Marty, Rosie, and Doc ran down the stairs in the back.

   "The thing I really miss here is Tylenol," Doc said.

   "Hey!" One of Buford's goons yelled, spotting the three. He then began to shoot bullets towards them. Rosie grabbed Marty's arm and pushed him through a nearby door. She quickly ducked behind a barrel, following Doc's example. As Marty fell into a stove, knocking an object off, Rosie curled her body into as much of a ball as possible, but was still slightly noticeable. The Doc held his hands up in surrender standing up as Rosie continued to sit tightly. She felt a searing pain in her ankle, but ignored it. Rosie and Marty separately watched as the goons grabbed Doc, pulling him away. Rosie closed her eyes tightly.

   "Listen up, Eastwood! I aim to shoot somebody today, and I'd prefer it'd be you. But if you're just too damn yellow, I guess it'll just have to be your blacksmith," Tannen threatened, and Rosie winced at the thought of either of her boys dying today. She looked down at her ankle, noticing a pool of blood. She felt a small object, and pulled it out, realizing that it was a bullet. She ripped a part of her dress, tying it around her ankle, hoping that it would be fine for the moment. She closed her eyes tightly once again, working through the pain as she held onto a barrel, attempting to stand up. A tear escaped her eye as she gripped the barrel tightly, wanting nothing else but for the pain to be gone.

   "Forget about me, Marty, and save yourself and Rosie!" Doc exclaimed.

   Marty held onto the shade inside of the building he was hiding in. Was he really going to take this?

   "You got one minute to decide," Tannen said, taking a stopwatch out of his pocket. "You hear me, runt? One minute!"

   "Please be careful Marty," Rosie whispered to herself.