Blood Rage

9. Trapped

"That's not a good idea, Rango," Rango muttered to himself. "Not a good idea, think about something different. Oh, Beans," he continued his monologue. "That's not the time for backing down."
It was in the twilight. The chameleon walked through the desert, his uniform hidden under old clothes. "Don't worry. They are in near, they are in near."
He tried not to look back where some city people were watching his movements with a spyglass.

"Can you see him?" Buford asked.
Elgin, who was looking through the spyglass, waved at him warningly. "Shhh. Yes, but still nothing happened."
"Give me that," Beans ordered and took it from Elgin's hands.
Of course, the lizard girl was worried, and she didn't like Rango's idea to play the bait.

"Everything is okay, everything is okay," Rango persuaded himself. He had to play a role.
"I'm a gunslinger, and I like to rob women and children..."
Usually it wasn't a problem for him to slip into every role, but this time, a bloody crazy killer could appear on the stage... A serious real bloody crazy killer.
Maybe he should try another criminal song. What kind of actor could he imitate? He took out a cigar. The dry rolled thing tasted terrible. Next, he took his gun and pretended that he controlled the bullets.
"Two bullets less," he muttered in a dark satisfied voice. "Makes two souls less."
Was that sounding criminal enough? He asked himself.
After more than an hour still nothing happened, and after several quotes of western gunslingers, Rango gave rise to doubt in his plan.
Suddenly something tugged him in the air. Sharp claws dug in his clothes and almost touched his skin.
Did Beans call his name?
In the next moment he felt a stitch in his neck. His vision blurred. He just felt how he flew over the landscape and a tiredness surrounded him.