![]() ![]() ![]() It is surprising then, how few multiplayer FPS games have chosen it as its setting. A harsh land where the only law is the gun, the birthplace of legends. The Old West is the quintessential American myth. Just as I slip into unconsciousness, I hear a gruff voice yelling from the distance. Sawn-off shotgun blasts its deadly payload right into my side. I catch him from the corner of my eye, but I’m too slow. I launch after him, determined to plant the blade between his eyes. He swings his axe, but I manage to kick him away, scrambling for my second knife. I only had time to load two bullets, and both of them find their way to the black-clad lawman’s heart. The Colt in my hand roars as I open fire on the second ranger. If I’m going to die, I might as well die with my boots on. I’m on my feet before his body hits the ground. I act on instinct, pulling my knife and throwing it in his face with one smooth move. ![]() The first of the sonuvabitches shows his ugly mug, swiveling to my view. My comrade is lying in front of me, his brown duster turning red as blood flows from the holes in his back. I can hear their sneers just around the corner. Time seems to crawl by as I try to cram more bullets into my revolver, huddling behind an outhouse. ![]()
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