Dennis Kade could smell death on the breath of this drizzly thunder storm. It was the smell of uprooted trees and the wafting brimstone of dislodged boulders that clattered down the canyon walls. It was the smell of dry dirt, instantly, turned into treacherous mud slides that could cover a man on a horse and press them into fossils like some ancient dinosaur. Dennis Kade was in the middle of it all. But worse, he was in the middle of a fools game–the game of revenge. Both he and his former friend, Bobby Wardle, had picked this night, this stormy night, to settle a year-old feud. No one knew they were here. No one knew they were at the head of Devil's Creek