Shoot-Out at Clearwater -- The Old West

[jla_forgotten]

The "three" of Jonah Hex's countdown is never reached and a hail of gunfire explodes at them - and at everyone else. It's as if everyone here has fallen into the need to spill blood

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[jla_extras]

Three men fall and the dusty ground soaks up the blood with an incredible thirst. The horse is turning into meat before their eyes and the smell of decay is far too strong to be natural, even in the hot sun.

[jsaboss]

"This. Is. Insane," says Mr. Terrific as he becomes a flurry of action, his fists and boots colliding on a group of the men who drew on them. They're terribly outgunned, and more and more, he's realizing he's out of his element. He glances at Tyler ... curious what's going through the robot's head at this madness.

This isn't the Justice Society, though. He knows that. Justice is something else entirely here.

[jla_forgotten]

Tyler is in constant motion, with punches and kicks that might make his illustrious namesake proud - striving to disarm the gunmen with minimal injury where possible - settling for a lack of permanent injury where not.

[jsaboss]

It's reassuring fighting beside Tyler ... a odd as it seems, he's familiar. He makes sense in Michael's world. Also, he's not trying to kill everything in sight.

"Tyler," he says into his digital mouthpiece, praying that Hourman can still pick up the transmission. "We need to end this madness, fast."

Mr. Terrific never stops moving. A punch, a kick, another punch. He's too close for the cowboys to get a good shot at him.