Max Quinn stood alone in the street of Sundance, Wyoming. Before him, arranged in a well-spaced arc, stood three of the fastest gunmen he had ever faced. The small, psychotic one of the trio tittered briefly. "Let's see if you're fast enough to deal with all three of us," he gloated. Max should have heeded the warning vision that had come to him that night. He should have gone somewhere, anywhere, except to Sundance.He knew that no matter what he did now, he was a dead man. His only hope was to try to take the three with him, and hope he might somehow survive the wounds he would certainly receive.He tensed to draw, determined at least to die making the best effort of his life. --Book cover.