Dead on time—the last train to Lantana Flats pulled slowly in.
Dead on the tracks—one old-timer, a prospector.
Barely alive to his predicament—the depot manager. With the railroad closing, he was out of a job and the Nevada desert wasn't exactly blooming with opportunities.
Alert as ever—Adam Steele, just ridden in on the train.
While up in the bare hills, a woman waited. Who might be able to show Steele a good and timely stash of gold. And, sure as hell, would introduce him to a whole hurricane of flying lead.