On The Shores of Lake Titicaca - Section 2
PART 10:
Vin waited in the heat, hoping to hear the sound of help approaching. Chris, Buck, Josiah, Nathan and JD… were they coming already? Why would they come now? There surely wasn’t any reason for Chris and the others to start worrying yet. Still, Vin listened, waited and hoped.
The dead body of the outlaw lay a few feet from them. A few flies buzzed near it. If Vin had more strength, he might attempt moving it. If there were more blankets, he might cover it. But he had no strength and there was only one blanket. More buzzards had landed nearby and were working at the dead horses. Their wings made dry sounds as they eagerly flapped about and feasted.
Tanner let out a sigh and then glanced at the carpetbag. He turned it around slowly, checking to make sure he hadn’t bled on it. Lord help him if he’d ruined it. Well, it looked like his paycheck was still safe -- the bag was clean.
After what they’d gone through to retrieve it, there’d better be something of worth inside besides just the alcohol. He opened the bag and looked through it again. Along with his clothing and usual traveling gear, Ezra had two wrapped parcels, sandwiches probably -- and two apples. That was the extent of their food supplies. Vin had only jerky and some hard tack -- emergency rations. He’d expected to eat dinner in Cedar Ridge, plus he knew that Ezra always packed something away. No pie. Vin frowned. A couple slices of pie would be welcome right about now. Ezra must not have had enough time to acquire the delicacy before they left town. Well, he doubted that Standish was going to feel hungry anytime soon. He glanced to the cardsharp, hoping he was going to be okay. God, he didn’t look good. Ezra looked as limp a rag doll.
He pressed the back of his hand against Ezra’s cheek, checking for signs of fever, finding him cool.
I should try to dig him out, Vin decided. Can't lift this thing…maybe I can tunnel under it. He made an attempt to move the dirt, but it was as hard as concrete. Ezra groaned painfully when Tanner finally managed to get some of it out from around him. The gambler shifted slightly and his eyelids fluttered. In the next second his free hand moved out, as if to ward off a blow. “No,” he gasped. “No…” He swung blindly, not opening his eyes.
Vin captured the moving hand and spoke softly to Standish to calm him again. When Ezra finally drifted off to sleep again, Vin sighed and resumed his silent vigil. They’d just have to wait until help arrived.
They’d just have to wait.
Chris and the others better come soon -- tomorrow maybe. God, he was tired. He lay down beside the turned coach and his trapped friend. He closed his eyes and rested his weary head.
He’d just have to wait.
PART 11:
It was getting late. Chris sat in the Redbird, drinking slowly and resolutely. Every time the door opened, he looked for one of the Juje children, the offspring of the town’s telegraph operator. Instead, only customers arrived in a steady stream.
Fletcher was playing the piano behind him. Joe was tending the bar, keeping the patrons well lubricated. Inez was tending tables, appearing as glasses emptied, collecting payments, keeping tabs, and returning with more liquor for anyone still on the ‘paying customer’ list.
It was a comfortable place, and Chris needed such comfort that day. He was feeling down. The business about the gold shipment had annoyed him, and he’d taken it out on one of his men. It wasn’t right and he knew it. He frowned at his beer, knowing that he could have send a telegram to Cedar Ridge to await the arrival of Ezra and Vin, but had held off. What would he say anyway? They knew that they were supposed to wire him upon their arrival, so a note asking ‘wire me when you make it to town’ would be redundant. Asking if they ‘made it to town all right’ would be equally unnecessary and could be taken wrong, might be taken as a sign that he was checking up on them. So, he’d have to wait until the men sent word.
When the door opened, he raised his head again. Certainly, Vin and Ezra had made it to Cedar Ridge okay. Certainly, Vin and Ezra were fine. More customers entered. The saloon business continued at its usual bustle.
Finally, the doors swung open and Casper Juje scuttled in, and Chris raised a hand to draw his attention. The boy glanced immediately to him, but his eyes continued onward and the telegram was delivered to another table.
“Casper!” Chris called once the boy had turned.
“Yes, sir,” the young man responded, pulling his pad from his pocket.
“Anything come in for me or the boys?”
Casper looked contemplative. “Mr. Standish got a wire from his Ma. Pa never can understand what they’re supposed to say. Don’t think they’re in English.”
Chris sighed. “Anything from Standish or Tanner? Anything from Cedar Ridge?”
“Mr. Trumble got a wire from Cedar Ridge. His sister is coming for a visit next week.”
Larabee rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Anything from Cedar Ridge that might concern Ezra and Vin? Anything concerning an incoming shipment? They’re supposed to be there by now.”
Casper shook his head. “No, ain’t been a word about that. Still got a couple hours before the wire shuts down for the night.” He tapped his pencil on his pad and added, “So, did you want to send a message?”
Chris contemplated a moment before he replied. “No.” No sense in it. They’ll wire when they get there and not before.
Casper nodded sharply and left.
PART 12:
Vin woke from a doze. He found himself lying on the ground, his head a few inches from Ezra’s. The sky was a vivid shade of red as the sun dipped to the horizon. High cliffs and mesas were silhouetted against the redness, looking as if someone had stamped the shapes out of the sky. Above them, the stage’s wheels framed the sky with wedges.
How long had he been sleeping? He focused on the colors before him with the solemn knowledge that night was falling now and they’d soon be in the dark and the cold. Where they had been too hot a short time ago, they’d be facing the opposite in a few minutes. They needed fire and they needed it fast. He struggled to sit up.
“It’s lovely,” Ezra drawled beside him once Vin was upright. “There is such beauty in the desert. It’s a pity that so many will never see such a thing. Of course, I have little say in the matter. I’m a captive audience to the sight.”
“You been awake long?” Vin asked, rubbing his face.
“Not long,” Ezra responded.
“You feelin’ any better?”
Ezra paused before answering, “I’m thirsty.”
“I’ll getcha some water. Let me get some sort of a fire goin’ first, b’fore we lose all our light.” He fished his matches out of his pocket, gathered a few handfuls of debris from the crash, then set about building a fire. They’d need the warmth, and the light would be welcome in this lonely place. He had to be careful in placing it. With Ezra unable to move and all this wood around, it would be best if it wasn’t too close. But, at the same time, they needed the heat and he didn’t want to move any more than absolutely necessary.
It took a few minutes to get the flame coaxed, but soon enough, Vin had created a comfortable fire to keep them company.
“Mr. Tanner,” Ezra called once the task was adequately attended to. “Water…”
“Yeah, right away,” Vin responded, twisting to get closer to the gambler. He pulled the canteen from their supplies and uncorked it. He moved it toward Ezra and then frowned as he realized that the conman would not be able drink from it, lying on his stomach as he was.
Rooting through his knapsack, Vin found a tin cup, made from a half a soup can. He blew out the dust and dirt and then filled up. Then he set it on the ground in front of Ezra.
With what seemed like great effort, Ezra raised his head to reach the cup. He moved it under his chin and took a tentative taste, and found a way to suck up the water from the cup without too much trouble. Then, with a disgusted groan he moved the mug out of the way and lay his head down again.
“Okay?” Vin asked, picking up the homemade mug.
“I feel like a dog,” Ezra said miserably. “I’m drinking like I’m some sort of animal.”
“Ya gotta make do with what you have,” Vin responded. He made a move to fill the cup to the top once more.
“Mr. Tanner, I must insist that you finish the cup,” Ezra said softly. “Certainly you’re thirsty after losing so much blood,” he added, gesturing one-handedly at Vin’s bloody, torn pant leg. “It seems we have naturally found a means… of ensuring we share our water supply 50-50. I can drink no more than half a cup… and you must finish the rest.”
“You’re a tricky bastard, ya know,” Vin replied, but filled the cup to the top again before setting it down in front of Ezra. "I took a gulp or two b’fore you woke. It’s time you caught up.”
Ezra gave Vin a foxy grin. “Mr. Tanner, you are far too honest for your own good. If our positions were reversed… you would never have been the wiser of my partaking of the bounty before you…”
“You would’a made up some cock-and-bull story ‘bout how you already emptied a canteen on your own and then you’d try and make me think you’re a bastard by drinkin’ part of what we had left.”
Vin laughed to see the stunned look on Ezra’s partially visible face. “Mr. Tanner, I would do no such thing.”
“That’s right,” Vin responded. “‘Cause I wouldn’t letcha. Now drink up ‘cause I’m gettin’ parched.”
The gambler glowered at the tracker, but drank what he could from the cup, leaving the bottom half for Vin, who quickly gulped it down.
“It’s agreed then, that we’ll share what’s left,” Ezra stated. “I won’t have you playing the part of the martyr for my sake. I would prefer… you well-hydrated and capable of protecting me. What good are you to me if …you’re passed out due to lack of water?” Ezra finally fell silent and rested, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.
“Hurtin’?” Vin asked as he refilled the cup again.
“I have a stagecoach sitting on my back,” Ezra returned.
Vin furrowed his brow. “You havin’ trouble breathin’? Think your ribs are okay?”
Ezra smiled slightly and opened his eyes. “I’m a bit tired out is all.”
“Hmm,” Vin said with a grunt as he set the cup before Ezra.
“It’s been a hectic day.” Ezra took another drink, finishing his portion of the cup and then pushing it back toward Vin.
“Yeah, well that’s a word for it.” Vin drank the remainder and said, “Don’t you start talkin’ about playin’ the part of a martyr, Ez,” Vin said. “I still ain’t quite forgivin’ ya for that business with Marley’s body and my jacket.”
“I hope you aren’t plannin’ on havin’ that poor excuse for a jacket repaired when it should be replaced.”
“Ezra,” Vin said, pulling on the recovered jacket and then fingering the worn out section at the elbow. “Should I be blamin’ this bald spot on one over-dressed, fast-talkin’, gamblin’ lawman from Four Corners? This your way of gettin’ me to replace it?”
“Please, Mr. Tanner, I would have done a bettah job of destruction than that. I’d have made it entirely unusable.”
“Yeah, but you’re a tricky bastard. Figure you’d be subtle.”
Ezra chuckled softly. “Mr. Tanner, I can’t see myself handling the garment to that extent.”
“Didn’t have a problem handling it when you wrestled Marley into it,” Vin said.
“Well, that was an emergency situation. Men have been known… to repress their worst fears when disaster strikes.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with this coat.” Vin pulled the coat protectively close to him. Sure, he thought, it smells a bit and it's got some weird stains on it, but it’s warm and worn-in just perfect. They sat in silence for a minute. “Hungry?” Vin finally asked.
“Not particularly.”
Vin rooted around in the carpetbag and found the wrapped sandwiches. “You should eat.”
Ezra grimaced. “Please, I’m not up to it at the moment.”
Vin nodded and pulled one wrapped parcel from the bag. He’d get the gambler to eat eventually if he could, but Vin’s stomach was the one requesting to be fed at that moment. His hand touched the bottle and he pulled it clear. “You want some of this?”
Ezra lifted an eyebrow, watching the tracker. “You need ask?”
Vin filled the mug with liquor and set it beside Ezra again, watching in sympathy at the effort it took Ezra to lift his head and suck up some of the liquid from the cup.
“Fine liquor such as this was never meant to be imbibed in this manner,” Ezra said as he wrapped his free hand around the cup to draw it closer.
“Yeah,” Vin agreed, tipping back the bottle and taking a long draw. “Probably wasn’t meant to be drunk like this neither.”
The two continued to silently share the liquor as the sun colored the sky, as it sunk below the horizon. Tanner ate the sandwich silently, reserving half of it for later. He refilled Ezra’s cup more than once as the level of liquid became too low for Standish to easily manage. Tanner had no idea how badly Ezra was hurt, but at least he’d have something to take the edge off. He wished he could do something more.
When the sky was finally black, Ezra pushed the mug away again and stared off into the fire. “We are in dire straits, Mr. Tanner.”
“Yeah, pretty bad,” Vin admitted, drinking again.
“Help will come.”
“Yeah, Chris is expectin’ us to check in when we reach Cedar Ridge. I guess they got it figured by now that somethin’ may be wrong.”
“Won’t be long…” Ezra muttered.
“I figure they’ll be here a couple hours after sunrise.”
“Lord, I hope so.”
“Your leg hurt bad?”
Ezra paused before answering, the flickering light of the fire playing across his only half-visible face. “Not so bad now, Vin. It’s much more bearable than before. It’s probably little more than bruised.”
“Your shoulder? Maybe I could prop this thing up a bit.”
“Please!” Ezra responded quickly. His hand reached out and grabbed hold of Vin. “No! Please no.” His green eyes flared in the low light. “Don’t."
“Okay…okay,” Vin replied, startled by the quick move.
“Leave it like it is.”
“Okay.”
“The weight keeps my shoulder from moving.” Ezra's eyes shone like little green lamps in the firelight. “Keep it still, please!” The plea in Ezra’s voice nearly broke Vin’s heart.
“I won’t touch the stage at all, okay? ” Tanner lifted his free arm as if surrendering. “I don’t want to hurt you none.”
Ezra’s serious eyes studied Vin for a moment, then his clutching grip loosened, and he patted Vin softly. “I know. Forgive me.”
Vin sighed as Ezra rested his head again on the handkerchief, apparently wasted from the outburst. The gambler closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
Damn, Vin thought. Damn…damn…damn. It’s gonna
be a long night.
PART 13:
“Winston,” Chris called as the telegraph operator left his office.
The man jumped at the unexpected voice and dropped his key. It clattered to the wooden walkway. “Mr. Larabee!” The boardwalk was dark and the gunslinger had come out of the blackness. It was enough to take years off a man’s life.
“Done for the night?”
“Yes,” Juje responded. “There won’t be anything else coming in.”
“So you ain’t heard anything from Cedar Ridge?”
“It isn’t my place to talk about other people’s messages,” Juje said curtly.
Chris grimaced. “I just need to know if anything came in regarding Ezra and Vin.”
Juje looked annoyed. “Now, Mr. Larabee. I think you’re quite aware that I’d have sent Casper or June to you the moment something like that came in.” He picked up his key with a huff and fitted it into the lock. “I’m good at my job, Mr. Larabee. I don’t need you second guessing me.”
Chris lowered his head and resisted the urge to grab hold of the reed-thin man. “I think something happened to them on their way to Cedar Ridge. They should have wired in otherwise. Was there any trouble out there?”
Juje paused and then looked up at Larabee. He seemed to come to a decision when he said, “There was a message went from Cedar Ridge to Bedford saying something about the plan going all wrong and sending for a couple of folks.”
“Shit,” Larabee mumbled and turned on his heel – heading back toward
the Redbird to gather the troops.
PART 14:
The tracker did his best to keep his eyes open. He’d lost enough blood to keep him holed up for days in the clinic. If Nathan were here, he’d be demanding that Tanner rest. Jackson would probably be brewing up one of his teas to send him to sleep… but still Vin blinked at the fire, trying to stay awake.
His mare’s leg lay beside him, ready in case more of the bandits showed up. The gold in that chest would be a sore temptation for anyone. Tanner frowned, wishing that any fool who wanted it would just carry it off and leave them be.
Something rustled nearby. He lifted the Winchester and cocked it, ready. That noise was enough to awaken Ezra, and the conman watched in the low light of the campfire as Vin aimed into the darkness. “What is it?” Standish asked.
It scuttled about, a familiar sound of four paws tramping across the sandy plane. It moved just outside of the firelight. Vin set his jaw in disgust, realizing that there were other temptations than gold. “Coyotes,” he returned.
“The bodies…” Ezra said. “We should’ve…done something for them.”
“Not much we could do, Ezra,” Vin responded. “They’ll go for the horses first, I reckon.” The pattering sounds continued as more of the carnivores arrived, bold in spite of the fire. “They’ll avoid men if they got somethin’ else to go for.” He paused before he admitted, “There was buzzards earlier.”
“I know,” Ezra said. “I heard them.” The conman shuddered. “I do deplore those wretched birds.”
Something yipped near the front of the broken stage, and the call was returned. The animals were moving in. “These won’t come near us as long as we got the fire goin’,” Vin said confidently.
The coyotes scurried about the dead horses, then the men heard the uneasy sound of flesh being torn. The animals growled and fought as they sought out the best portions.
Ezra closed his eyes and lowered his head as the animals feasted on the horses. The coyotes snapped and yipped and bit, tearing into the dead.
“Dear Lord,” Ezra murmured as the noise became louder -- so near, just beyond the light of the fire. Vin’s sharp ears picked out about eight different animals, but their outcry sounded as if there were a couple dozen. It was horrible to sit there and listen to the work of the scavengers. The buzzards had been bad enough, but at least they were mostly silent in their work.
Tanner glanced down to Standish and saw him flinch at the sound of a hide ripping. Damn, he thought. It was bad enough to have to sit here and listen to it… He found it hard to imagine what it would be like if one were trapped, unable to defend oneself.
Vin kept his weapon ready, searching for a target. When mirror-like eyes suddenly gleamed from the darkness, he fired.
The sharp report of the rifle, followed by a yip and a thump, stopped the fracas. A terrified scrambling was heard as the coyotes tore off into the blackness. Tanner fired the second load, chasing them further into the night.
“Thank you,” Ezra muttered. “I don’t believe I could stand listening to them for long.”
“Figure it gave ‘em a scare.” Vin nodded. “Might keep ‘em for a while.”
“My derringer,” Ezra asked quietly. “Might I have it back?”
Vin nodded and picked the little gun from Ezra’s carpetbag. “You got more ammo for this toy?”
“On my gun belt, which is rather inaccessible at this moment,” Ezra said with a smile. “Have you seen my other weapons?”
Vin shook his head as he put the derringer in Ezra’s hand. “Figure they're somewhere in this mess. Didn’t see ‘em when I was stumblin’ ‘round earlier. I got some cartridges for my rifle.”
Ezra hefted the little gun and seemed to relax somewhat, relieved to have the protection it could offer him. One shot wouldn’t be much, but it might keep him alive for a while longer.
“They’ll be back,” Ezra drawled slowly.
“Yeah, if they’re hungry enough,” Vin admitted. “Might be more
quiet though… just sneak in and sneak out. Might go after those bodies
we left along the way. Figure they’ll let us be. They know we can
bite now.”
PART 15:
At their table in the Redbird, a group of five lawmen huddled. One gave the facts. The other listened. Finally, the table fell silent.
“So, we leave now?” JD asked, as he shoved back his chair and stood.
“Hang on there, kid,” Buck replied. “We ain’t gonna get far tonight.” He worked at buttoning up his shirt as he spoke. Miss Katy would be disappointed, but she’d have to spend the rest of the evening alone.
“Not enough moon,” Josiah responded. “It’ll be as dark as pitch.”
“Yeah, but…” JD insisted. “They’ll be on the trail to Cedar Ridge. Won’t be too hard to follow. We can do it.” His plans for lunching with Casey would wait for another day.
“But how d'ya figure we’ll find our way?” Buck asked.
The young sheriff frowned. “We can follow the stars.”
Buck smiled widely. “Now, kid,” he said. “That works well for ship captains and wily trackers...”
“We’ll trip up our horses on some rock or hole,” Nathan added. “And
if they ran into trouble, could be that they went off trail. Won’t be able to
track in this darkness.'”
“We’ve done it before,” JD insisted.
“We had the moon before,” Buck told him, “Or banks of white snow.
We have nothing tonight.”
“They could be perfectly fine,” Josiah put in. “Just because they didn’t wire us from Cedar Ridge tonight doesn’t mean anything.” He turned to Chris who hadn’t said anything past his original statement of facts and conjectures. “Could be that the stage had a bit of bad luck…lost a wheel maybe. They’ll make it in to Cedar Ridge tomorrow."
Nathan nodded and interjected, "They might have made it on time and figured they'd pester you a bit by not wirin' you 'til tomorrow." He added, “You agree, don’t cha, Buck? It’d be best to just wait for morning.”
“Hold on now,” Buck said, lifting his hands. “I’m not sure if it’s ‘best’. Considerin’ the trouble those two can get into, I’m thinking that the ‘best’ for those two would be to keep ‘em hog-tied in the jail.” He turned to JD before continuing, “The fact that we ain’t gonna do any good looking for them right now is the only reason that I vote for leaving in the morning.”
JD turned to Chris to form one last appeal, but the gunslinger had stood and
was headed to the doors of the Redbird. “Go to bed,” he muttered.
“We leave at first light.”
PART 16:
Vin huddled in his blanket, shivering in the chill air. The blood-loss had made him groggy and cold, but he swore he’d stay awake. The coyotes aren't gonna git us, he declared.
He glanced to Ezra, finding him asleep again. The gambler couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open. He wondered if Ezra was cold, too. Ain't much of him I can cover and all the stuff on him should keep him from the chill, Vin reasoned. Still, better stoke up the fire some. It'll help with those varmints in any case. He glanced around the area and stretched out an arm to reach another piece of wood. He’d have to get up soon, or at least crawl a ways to replenish their firewood. His leg was stiff and painful and walking seemed out of the question at the time. He tossed the broken plank onto the fire. It popped and hissed as the treated wood hit the flames.
“No!”
The shout startled the tracker. “Ez,” he said softly.
“Captain Culver… Captain!” Ezra called.
“It’s me, Ez. It’s Vin.”
“I promised him!” Ezra thrashed his arm out blindly, fighting some unknown person. He moved his head violently, unable to do anything more.
“Easy, Ez.” After a few abortive attempts, Vin finally grabbed hold of the moving arm. “Knock it off, Ez. Wake up!” Damn, at least Standish hadn’t kept hold of the gun.
“You butchers! You goddamn butchers!” The gambler’s eyes were still firmly shut as he shouted at someone lost in his dreams.
“Calm down, Ezra!” Vin demanded. “Wake up!” He was finally able to corral Ezra’s hand and forced it to the ground.
The movements stopped as the green eyes snapped open and looked up at Vin in wonder. “Dear Lord,” Ezra sighed, finding himself totally immobilized.
“You okay now?” Vin asked. “If I letcha go, you ain’t gonna try and wrestle me?”
Ezra swallowed and tried to nod. When Vin released him, Ezra quickly drew in his hand. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to alarm you. I…” He was at a loss for words. “…had a rather intense dream.”
“I’ll say,” Vin responded.
Vin settled himself again and quickly checked his bandage. Apparently the sudden exercise hadn’t made it any worse. “Pretty bad dream?” he asked.
“Very,” Ezra murmured, looking away. “But it’s nothing to worry about.”
Vin frowned. “Who’s Captain Culver?”
Ezra’s eyes were startled and troubled as he glanced up at Vin. The paleness of his skin made the green of his eyes seem to glow. “I…” he started. “I…didn’t mean to…speak aloud.” He glanced about, as if looking for an escape route.
“I know.” They had a lot in common, Vin knew. Somewhere along the line, Ezra had learned that silence was preferable to any sound when one was vulnerable. They had both learned to keep their problems personal and not let their weaknesses be exposed. But there were times, Tanner realized, when one should talk.
“Who is he, Ez? You can tell me, ya know. Won’t say a word to no one.”
Ezra watched Tanner for a long moment, the firelight flickering across both their faces.
“My word as a Tanner,” Vin added.
Perhaps that was enough to bring Ezra to a resolution. “He was my captain during the hostilities,” he answered succinctly.
“You were in the War?” Vin puzzled. “You’re not that much older than me, Ez, and I was too young for that. You must’a been a kid.”
Ezra chuckled humorlessly. “I was a kid, just under fifteen and in an ‘unhappy’ situation. I saw the conflict as a means of… escaping it.”
“They let you in, even though you were so young?”
Ezra smiled slightly, laying his head on the handkerchief. “I suppose they were desperate,” he replied and said nothing for several moments. He breathed in slowly, as if still trying to calm down. His hand twitched. They were silent. Vin poured water into the cup and they shared the contents equally. The water was beginning to run low, but at least the heat of the day was over.
After the cup was empty, Ezra spoke again, his voice low and disconnected – as if he was talking from a dream. “I was able to convince the recruiters I was older. Started off as a foot soldier -- eager for adventure -- full of high ideals. I found only mud and hard work.”
Ezra sighed, his eyes directed toward the ground beneath him. “I soon tired of that and sought a… better position. I discovered that Captain Culver needed an assistant… and I found my way into his good graces. The Captain seemed pleased with what he saw… and I was conscripted into his service.” Ezra continued, speaking slowly as if with great effort, “He commanded an artillery unit.”
“Cannons?”
“Yes, Mr. Tanner.”
Vin chuckled very softly. “Figured you knew what the hell you were doin’ with that cannon back at the Seminole village. Weren’t aimin’ for Anderson a’tall, were you? And ya lied when I asked you about it.”
“I didn’t know you well, Mr. Tanner.”
Tricky bastard, Vin thought, watching as Ezra breathed slowly, as if
gaining his strength again. God, he hoped that Chris and the others came
as soon as it got light. He wasn’t certain how long Ezra would last.
Already, he seemed to be half-off-his-head, talking about things that he usually
kept hidden.
“I was his personal secretary, writing letters… requisitioning rations,
equipment, ammunition,” Ezra continued. “Lord, it was hard to get the
simplest things. But I had a way of… acquiring necessary items.”
A ghost of a smile played across the gambler’s lips. Vin didn’t
doubt that statement.
“We were better off than many, but try as I might, we starved much of the time… we often walked unshod… we rationed our ammunition… we froze at night.”
“Were you there long?”
“Long enough to hate it all,” Ezra said hollowly, and narrowed his eyes, turning his attention on the fire. “I learned what it was like to have companions. I learned what it was like to see them die. They always died, Vin. Tatty, Singer, Baldrige, Pricey. Everyone died.”
Vin said nothing, turning to watch the fire as well. He had been a boy during those years, living among the Comanche. The news of the conflict had just been curious information that made Shadow Step shake his head in wonder. The old chief hoped the white men killed enough of themselves to empty the land and leave his people alone -- Vin had half-hoped it would happen, too. The war had been a mythical thing, as distant to him as the legends of their forefathers…as far away as the shores of Lake Titicaca. He’d heard of the blood, the deaths, the destruction and hoped that it was never as bad as the tales he’d heard in the saloons, told by one-armed, one-eyed men.
If the tales were true, then hell had been wrought on earth, and Ezra, only a couple years older than himself, had been in the midst of it.
Softly, Ezra spoke again, “My captain was wounded in the leg. He was a good man. He was brave and proud and strong… and terrified of …amputation. He ordered me to come with him… to the army hospital, to watch out for him. I was sick with dysentery at the time… and hardly able to walk. I could leave the field for a few days. I was of no use to our unit in that state in any case.”
Ezra’s voice was becoming softer, as if he really wasn’t thinking about what he said. “He made me promise to protect him. I swore an oath that I wouldn’t allow the surgeons to remove his leg.”
Vin said nothing. He picked up the bottle of bourbon and took a deep draw, then filled the tin cup and set it beside Ezra, but the gambler didn’t seem to be aware of it. Ezra was lost in another place and time and probably didn’t even fully register that Vin was beside him.
“The surgery was like a slaughterhouse, blood, saws, knives…” Ezra swallowed as he watched the flames dance, wishing they could wipe away the images that still came to him sometimes in the night. “There were so many men…boys…mutilated … missing limbs.” He shuddered as much as his trapped position would allow.
Vin didn’t speak.
“I pleaded to the surgeons. I tried to persuade them. I always thought I was rather… persuasive…” His voice trailed off for a moment. He licked his lips before continuing in that same distracted voice. “The captain’s wound was treatable...but the saw…”
Ezra closed his eyes and brought his hand to his face again, covering it against the scrutiny of the stars. “I tried to stop them… I fought. But an orderly held me down.”
“Weren’t your fault, Ezra,” Vin said quietly.
“I swore an oath,” Ezra responded. "He trusted me…"
“You were sick. There was more than one of them.”
“I should’ve tried harder.” He breathed in deeply again. “He’d led us through the darkest of battles…the bloodiest conflicts. He’d kept up our spirits through freezing nights in poor clothing… empty bellies…endless days . He’d been a great man. I’d looked up to him. There’ve been so few men that I could…respect. Yet, after what they’d done to him…he was lost.”
They were silent. Vin drank another swallow of the bourbon and Ezra rubbed his eyes tiredly. “He… he cursed me for breaking my oath, for breaking that trust…and when he put his hands on a revolver, he ended his life.” Ezra sighed deeply. “I fled the hospital. I left the battlegrounds to the soldiers. I have always known enough to leave a table when I wasn’t winning.”
The next words came out quickly, as if he didn’t dare to stop and think about them. “I left for the Caribbean and acquired a managing position on a blockade-runner until the end of the war. I made a fortune charging inflated prices for common goods. I cheated soldiers, widows and orphans, charging as much as the market could bear for what I was able to get past the blockade. At that, I was a success. Cheating and conning…it’s what I was born for.”
Not knowing what else to do, Vin continued to drink the bourbon, not even noticing its fine flavor. After a minute, he said, “He shouldn’t ‘ave blamed ya, Ez.” What right did that Culver have to blame a kid?
“You didn’t know him,” Ezra replied. “He was a great man and I failed him”
“Naw, ya didn’t. You done the best you could,” Vin responded, thinking that a greater man would have suffered his loss, would have gone on living instead of taking a coward’s way out. A greater man wouldn’t have placed such a weight on the shoulders of a sick kid who had done everything he could to help. “Wasn’t you that failed.”
Ezra didn’t answer. The telling of the tale seemed to drain Standish
of whatever energy he had left. He drifted off to sleep. The tracker
sighed, understanding a bit more about the gambler. “Sorry they done
that, Ezra,” he muttered. “They had no right.”
PART 17:
Chris stared up at the rough-hewn boards that made up the ceiling of his room. The boarding house was quiet. The sun would rise in a few more hours, and he spent the time trying to find some rest – but none would come to him.
He kept recalling recent history. He remembered when Vin and Ezra failed to return after investigating a fire over a year ago. He remembered when they didn’t come back after spending the day repairing the Widow Parker’s house, and when Ezra disappeared from the Redbird. He remembered when Ezra and Vin never reached Blaire to deliver their prisoner.
Time and time again, they’d failed to show up on schedule. Time and
time again they’d been hurt – nearly killed. And now, they were
missing. Yes, they might have simply had some trouble on the way to Cedar
Ridge. They might have arrived too late to send a wire, delayed a bit on the
trail. Could be that they were fine. Maybe they were just jerking his chain,
biding their time.
At Christmas, they’d been fine. There’d
been no reason to be alarmed.
“Lord,” Chris said softly. “Let them be safe again. Let me be wrong about this. Let them be perfectly fine.”
There was no answer in the small room and Chris continued to stare at the
ceiling, awaiting morning.
PART 18:
“Vin,” Ezra’s soft call brought the tracker back to reality.
“What?” Vin asked, staring out past the dead fire. He had meant to keep it going, but once he was unable to reach anymore loose wood, he’d decided to let it go. If he could move, he would have tended it, but at the moment, his limbs were like lead and his head swam at every movement. Morning was nearly upon them. It couldn’t come fast enough as far as the tracker was concerned.
“They’re back.”
“I know,” Tanner returned. He’d heard the return of the coyotes, and had tugged his weapon close, waiting to see if they dared to come closer. The coyotes were wary now, moving about with great stealth to avoid the humans.
He tried to see Ezra, but it was too dark to perceive anything more than a shadow. He could make out that Standish was pointing something into the night. Must have found his gun when he woke, Tanner thought. Vin could hear the gambler's heavy breathing -- probably scared him half to death when he heard those varmints again.
They listened to the movements in the night. Creatures of stealth, the coyotes knew exactly how close they could come without being harmed. They kept the bulk of the stage between them and the humans.
One of the coyotes tussled with another. They growled and barked and worked on the carcasses. Finally, Vin fired another shot in their direction. Instantly, the skulking things tore off. He dropped the rifle to his side. He’d replace the cartridge in a moment or two, but he was too damn tired to do anything about it immediately. God, all he wanted to do was sleep. His leg was throbbing and he felt incredibly thirsty, but there was hardly any water left and he didn’t want to succumb to the temptation just yet.
“They’ll return, I fear,” Ezra mentioned.
“Yup,” was all Vin could say in response.
“We’d best stay awake.” Ezra spoke slowly, saying each word distinctly.
“Good thought.”
“A discussion perhaps,” Ezra suggested.
“Yeah, we could talk.”
After a pregnant pause, Ezra asked, “Do you have a topic to propose?”
Vin touched his leg, feeling sore and tired and dizzy. He tried to figure out if his bandage was still doing its job. It felt dry to the touch, but that was all he could decide at that moment. All in all, he didn’t think he was up to holding a conversation with the cardsharp, but he knew Ezra was right -- they had to stay awake. “Dunno, Ez. Figure there must be somethin’ we could talk about.” He wondered about Ezra’s life as a foot soldier, as an Officer’s Aide, aboard a blockade-runner. Goddamn, Ezra, he thought, you lived a long life before you even became a man.
He wondered what the Caribbean was like. “You travel a lot, Ezra?”
“I’ve been on the move …my whole life.”
“You see lots of places? Europe and all that?”
“Aside from a few excursions to Mexico… and my stint in the islands… I’ve been bound to this country.”
“But you read about other countries all the time.”
“I find it soothing.”
“Yeah, I kinda like it, too.” Vin nodded in the darkness. He’d come to feel great pride with his reading. “I’ve read a good part of that Japan book, but I’ve damn near read the words off of the South America one. I figure I could probably go down there now and know where everything is. It’s perty close. I could go, easy.”
“Yes,” Ezra answered quietly. “The idea is enticing.”
“You could come with me.”
He heard Ezra’s soft chuckle. “It would be an interesting excursion. But I’m prefer… comforts.”
“You ever think about goin’ to Lake Titicaca?”
“Not recently, no.”
Vin laughed. “I figure I could go. Those Incas think it’s a sacred place. Might be a thing to see.” He shrugged and added, “It’d be good to go just so’s I could tell everyone where I’d been. Make ‘em laugh if nothin’ else.”
“The air is thin. The land is cold and barren.” Ezra drew in a deep breath. “One must travel by mule for days… up trails too narrow for wagons. Horses die of lung fever. Nothing thrives. Few are able to reach it.”
“That’d just make it more worthwhile,” Vin suggested. “It’d feel kinda special bein’ at the highest ‘navigable’ lake in the world.”
“The shores of Lake Titicaca are not easily achieved.”
“I ain’t afraid of workin’ for somethin’.”
“It’s a lost and lonely place… and so far away,” Ezra replied tiredly. “The effort expended would hardly… match the goal attained.” He took a moment before he spoke again. “There’s nothing there of worth.”
“Ah, hell, Ezra,” Vin retorted. “What kind of worth you lookin’ for? Those Incas think it’s a pretty important place. And we’re sittin’ here with a big box of gold near us and we got no use for it. Figure it’s more harm than good at this point.”
Ezra laughed lightly. “Touché, my friend. I hadn’t even thought about that treasure… until you mentioned it. There were other more…pressing…matters to consider.”
“Pressing?” Vin chuckled. “Anyway, Ez, I figure some things are worth a little effort.” Vin reached out and laid his hand congenially on Ezra’s head, then groaned as soon as his hand touched the gambler. “Ah hell, Ez,” he muttered, feeling clammy, cold flesh. “Damn it!” He felt in the darkness, running his hands along Ezra’s wet hair. Damn! Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.
“I’m fine, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra assured softly, his voice sounding tired and quiet.
“The hell you are!" Vin shouted back.
“Nothing can be done, in any case.”
“God, you’re cold and you’re sweatin’ like crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Honestly, Vin. I hardly noticed…” Ezra’s voice trailed off, the words beginning to slur together.
Vin felt for his match case and pulled out a lucifer, striking it on the lid. In the flickering light of the little match, Ezra’s face looked ghastly white. The gambler blinked, his eyes clouded and unfocused. “Ah, shit,” Vin groaned. He snuffed out the match and pulled the blanket off of his shoulders. He quickly worked it around Ezra, covering his head. He edged his way back to the dead fire.
“It’s gotten darker,” Ezra said, sounding perplexed.
“That’s 'cause I put a blanket over your fool head!” Vin yelled back, concerned that Ezra didn’t remember that fact. “I’ll get it off you in a second. Gotta get this fire goin’.”
“Vin, it’s nearly dawn,” Ezra spoke as Vin tried to find live coals. “No sense in expending...”
“Shut up, Ezra!” Vin barked. “Shut your damn mouth for once and hang on, okay?” Vin found a few remaining embers and worked to bring the fire back to life. He had to crawl and blunder about in the darkness to find more wood.
“It’s not so bad, Vin,” Ezra continued, his accent thick and his voice hardly above a whisper. “It doesn’t really hurt anymore…It’s okay.”
“Just be quiet!” Vin demanded. “Let me get this fixed then I’ll see what I can do. God, Ezra!” He reached blindly to find more loose boards, straining his wounded leg. He’d start his leg bleeding again, but at that moment he only wanted to get Ezra warmed up. His fingers finally closed on a few boards and he slammed them noisily into a pile. Breathing harshly, he coaxed a flame from the embers. “Ya still with me, Ez?”
The sky was taking on the earliest hues of morning light as the fire awoke under Vin’s tending.
“It’s so dark…” Ezra voice was hardly above a whisper.
“I’m comin’.”
“So dark…”
“Hang on there!”
“Sometimes…” Ezra's voice was so low Vin could hardly hear it. “Sometimes, I feel so alone.”
Vin immediately moved back to Ezra. “I’m here, Ez. I’m here,” he said softly as he rearranged the blanket so that he could see Ezra’s face in the meager light. “Ya ain’t alone.”
The gambler gazed beyond him, illuminated by the flickering flame. “Vin?”
“I’m here. I ain’t gonna go. I got the fire started. Gonna have to tend it a bit. Get ya warmed up. I gotta get you outta here, Ez. Find out what’s wrong with you.”
“Are they comin’ still?”
“Yeah, Ez. They’re almost here. Just hang on, okay?”
Ezra blinked and seemed to focus on something far away. “I think I hear them.”
The night was silent. Vin strained his hearing and couldn’t find the hoof-beats that Ezra imagined. The fire was dying. “They’ll be here any minute. We’ll get cha out.”
Ezra’s green eyes finally met Vin’s, looking puzzled and lost. “I don’t feel so good, Vin.” And then his head lolled and he closed his eyes.
Tanner sat beside him as the fire faded and then the pre-morning light illuminated the land around them. He watched, making certain that Ezra still breathed. God, he looks sick. Ezra trembled for a moment in his sleep and was still again. His pale skin had the clammy feeling that came with shock and blood-loss. Somewhere, beneath the heavy stagecoach, Ezra was bleeding … and had been for hours.
Good God, what was he going to do?
“We’ll get you out, Ezra,” Vin pledged. “Just hang on a little longer” He brushed Ezra’s sweat-soaked hair back so that he could see his grim face. “Just a little while. They’ll come.”
Vin noticed his own bandage was spotting with blood. Damn, he’d have to take care of that. Their bags were nearby and the bottle of alcohol was at hand. It would only take a moment to re-do the bandage. He had to get the fire going again. His gaze drifted from his injury, back to Ezra. It could wait for a moment.
Too tired to sit up any longer, Vin lay down beside the small portion of Ezra that was visible. If he’d had any strength, he would try digging Ezra out. If he could move at all, he’d just squat down and lift the whole damn stage off of him. God, if he’d known, he might have tried harder earlier. It would have put Ezra through some pain, but at least he’d be out and tended to. Vin closed his eyes, angry at his inability to help his friend.
He clasped Ezra’s hand and tried to remain awake. Daylight would make the coyotes shy. Daylight would bring the others. Daylight would bring help. “I ain’t gonna leave ya. Gonna take care of you, okay?”
He rubbed his eyes, determined to keep sleep at bay, but his own injury had taken its toll. He slipped into a slumber, his hand still holding onto Ezra’s.
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