The Treasure of Hairy Spider Gulch.

Chapter 2: Do you feel lucky?

I paused at the top of the hill to catch my breath. I leaned the rifle up against a rock, and reached into my pocket to retrieve the map. It was worn, and the paper was yellow with the time, but the digital images were still readable. They flickered a bit every now and then. I looked out and scanned the horizon. Tarantula rock was out to my left, and Camel Spider Canyon was directly in front of me.

According to the map, I just had to make my way through the canyon, and over the Black Widow Sand Dunes. Then it was short 1/2 mile to Hairy Spider Gulch, where my uncle's treasure was just waiting to be dug up. Unfortunately, there'd be plenty of car-sized spiders on the way there.

Well, at least I wont have to go through Roly Poly Pass. I know it doesn't sound all that bad, but trust me, the cute name is kind of a misnomer. Getting crushed by a two ton bouncy ball is pretty god awful way to go.

I folded the map up and put it back into my pocket. I grabbed my canteen and took a long gulp. I looked down for a moment to fasten the canteen back to my pack, and when I looked up, I saw him standing there. Startled, I reached over and grabbed my rifle. By the time I brought it to my shoulder, he already had a piece aimed at me. Two of them actually. He couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen.

He grinned, showing a number of very crooked teeth. He was scrawny, and wore a dirty poncho. He had on an old hat, like the kind the cowboys used to wear. Underneath it was a giant mop of messy red hair. He was armed with dual DL-44 blaster pistols. Probably chambered in .35 or .40 watt bolts. Their energy packs whined with anticipation.

He finally spoke, "Are you gonna pull that rifle or whistle Dixie?"

"What?" I said.

"Do you feel lucky? Well do you, punk?"

I gave him a confused look. "Why are you talking like that?" I said.

"You're one of those road folk aren't you?" He said. "We knows what kinds of evil you all are capable of.""Don't think I'd hesitate even for a second to turn you into a pile of dust"

I slowly started to stand up.

He stepped forward quickly, nervously fidgeting with the pistols. "Go ahead, make my day!"

Where have I heard that line before? It seemed oddly familiar.

I lowered the rifle, and laid it down on the ground. "Alright kid, I don't mean you any harm. And I'm no road agent either. Whatever one of those is. I'm just trying to find something my uncle left out here, that's all."

The kid's toothy grin faded. "So you're not one of them?"

"Um... no" I said.

He flicked a switch, and the pistols stopped whining. He didn't lower them though. "Well, you'll understand if I don't trust you."

"Sure kid. No worries. Just put away the guns okay?"

"What I'm gonna do is this. I'll let you get on your way. But you're gonna leave the Winchester with me."

A loud roar interrupted my response. I turned just in time to see eight hairy legs the size of telephone poles leap into the air. The kid fired. And then everything turned black.