[[ oom : wheelsy, south carolina ]]

[itwasjustified]

[ "I really need you to tell me exactly what the hell is goin' on." ]



Raylan wakes in a vacuum.

He lets his eyes adjust to the darkness, and takes silent stock of himself.

He's in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room. These sweats aren't his. His head feels like a bag of cotton balls left to dry-rot in Death Valley, and the rest of him is hardly any better.

He has no idea where his boots are, let alone his gun.

He gets up, keeping his movements slow and quiet, but the bed creaks in spite of his efforts.

A few long minutes later, he limps out of the bedroom, and shuffles toward the unmistakable smell of coffee.

Comments

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Bill is sitting at the kitchen table with his second cup of coffee and last week's Wheelsy Register.

Today should be a day he gets to sleep in, but instead he beat Kate out of bed this morning after a rather unrestful night.

Lifting his head when Raylan wanders in, Bill sets aside the paper and looks Raylan over.

"Mornin', marshal, how you feelin'?"