The sun sank behind the high plateaus of the dusty Dry Rock Hills, casting long shadows over a dying and insignificant border-town. The only thing even remotely noteworthy about it was its proximity to a fold the locals had nicknamed Deep Purple due to the land stained dark from exposure to the strange lights that appeared at twilight and dawn.

A tired shadow skulked into town, staying near the edge of the road where light had all but gone. “Calamity” Sam Townsend paused at a hand painted wooden sign, lifted his hat and wiped off the sweat that dotted his forehead with his sleeve. Then he ran a knuckle over his mustache, pushing some of the accumulated dirt out as he read the remnants of the writing. Wear and tear had worn the edges but he could still make out the words of NEW REUNION. That was enough to make his lips twitch into a smile. He was nearing the end of another long hunt and New Reunion was the perfect place to catch his prey.

Maybe this would be the time he’d finally bring in a bounty alive.