American Outlaws Page #7

Cole slaps leather and the Rangers canter off. As they

disappear we hear:

BOB:

(low)

Now, I would just sound stupid

saying something like that...

Jesse and Frank watch them go, then start walking again.

JESSE:

(finally)

Web's dead.

FRANK:

I reckoned.

JESSE:

Hell of a war.

FRANK:

I'm sure it seemed like a good idea

at the time.

EXT. ROAD - DUSK

The James brothers, the Youngers, and the other Rangers

ride down a dirt road toward a ragtag column of Confederate

soldiers. The grey uniforms are ghostlike in the twilight.

The men are obviously broken, dispirited. The column

stretches down the road and around a bend as far as the eye

can see.

Jesse and the other Rangers ride into the midst of the

Confederates who part and flow around the horsemen like a

slow-moving river.

For a moment, nobody speaks while the whole eerie

procession glides past.

COLE:

Where you boys going?

JESSE:

There's Yankees back there. Lot's

of 'em.

One grizzled Confederate VETERAN, his arm in a bloody

sling, looks up at Jesse.

VETERAN:

War's over, son. General Lee

surrendered yesterday at Appomattox.

The soldiers move on. The Rangers stare into the middle

distance of despair. Cole rubs his hands across his face.

FRANK:

Yesterday.

BOB:

Well, somebody better go tell THE

DAMN YANKEES!

COLE:

What do we do now?

Jesse seems to be the only one with a clear head.

JESSE:

Home. We go home. We ride like hell

to get there, and we kill anything

or anyone that comes between us and

our homes. And when we get there we

stay there and God help any fool who

tries to get me to leave my farm

again.

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