Springtime in Montana. Cold, snowy, and chock full of danger. Depraved bandits ride into town during a snowsquall and hold several people hostage in a bank robbery suddenly gong terribly wrong. Cowboys and Indians attempt to help a tired Marshal free those terrified hostages. And hopefully keep them alive in a world of molten chaos.

It’s a savage land in the wild west of the high country. Where the six gun rules the day. And the dear and the antelope play in the ferocious fields of the wolf and grizzly bear. This is no country for the faint of heart. And one where they need a Marshal with the grit to stand up, against the odds, to the day of the evil gun.

The vultures are circling, and they are coming closer. It was too late to start over. too late to turn back. but still enough time to die. Looking into the jaws of death most people give in to unsurpassable odds. The guys still alive spit it its eyes. In times like these, the law depends on the will of the man who wears the badge. It has no more or no less power than that tired sole’s weathered fortitude.

And even though that Marshal is 70 hard years old, by God, he still spins the cylinder and fights for justice. Blue skies, apple pie, and the fourth of July rodeo. This is Montana and even in the 21st century. A man, a real man, has to do what a man’s got to do. Hell of a day so far. And we’re just getting started.

Saddle up for a thrilling ride, hellbent for leather, and Tombstone justice. Red Sky in Morning, Marshal take warning. He’s only going to get one chance. But that’s why he carries a .44.