By Julie F.
DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fanfiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters, settings or song references. I don't own the characters. This story is strictly for entertainment. No monetary gain will be made from anything contained in this story.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was written as a birthday gift for Winnie. This is the only story I've written and my thanks go to Deirdre who helped me and provided hours of support. Her magic touch enriched what otherwise would have been a crude attempt at writing.
The tense silence was broken by the sound of the others piling into the small shelter. Nathan's sensitive fingers probed for a pulse while his keen eyes searched the chest of the injured man for movement.
A sigh of relief pushed past the soulful healer's lips, before he started barking orders. "He's alive but in bad shape. Buck, you get a fire started. J.D., get my medical bag. Ezra, you find me lots of water. I've got just what he needs in my herb sack for that fever. Josiah, I'm going to need your help with Chris"
As the men hurried to their tasks, Jackson began an examination of his patient. He was burning up with fever, his skin was scorching hot. He was clearly dehydrated from the dryness and poor turgor of his flesh. Seeing the blood soaking the left pant leg, Nathan turned his attention to that injury first. Removing the crimson stained dressing was difficult as the bottom layer was adhered to the skin.
"Josiah, grab a canteen. I got to soak this thing off."
The two men were able to remove the encrusted linen and the preacher moved to remove the pant leg and boot as Nathan examined the wound. The surrounding skin was swollen and red and a small amount of blood streaked pus oozed from the bullet hole.
"Damn, bullet's still in there. Broke the bone too." Seeing that a fire was now burning in the fireplace, the black man issued more orders. "Buck, get that water warming fast. I'm gonna need a couple of strong branches about three feet long. Then I want you to start ripping up any extra clothes we have to use as bandages. I got linen strips with me, but I'm gonna be needin' lots of changes.
Josiah accepted the cool water the gambler handed him and started bathing the fevered body. Pausing at Chris's mouth, he pressed the wet cloth onto the cracked, bleeding lips and managed to get the moisture inside as well.
"Is he going to make it Nate?" Wilmington's trembling voice revealed his fear.
"He's in real bad shape." the healer's voice was tense and his eyes riveted to his charge." Infection has set in and I got to get the bullet out and clean the wound. If he survives the night we have a chance at saving him. I'm going to need you and Josiah to help me. I'm going to need lots of light so find all the lanterns you can and get them lit."
Buck reached for a lantern by the door and he spotted the worried faces of Ezra and J.D. as they waited just inside the door of the cabin. Suddenly realizing that there was no sign of Vin, he determined that a search should begin.
"Is Chris going to be okay?" The kid's seemingly endless source of energy turned to worry and fear.
"I don't know." Buck replied. "Either of you spot any trace of Vin? His coat was covering Chris, he could be out there wounded."
"I discerned some footprints near the stream but no evidence of Mr. Tanner." Ezra couldn't disguise the worry in his voice. "Perhaps we could start searching the surrounding area while you attend to our fallen comrade."
"Thanks Ez. Just don't get busted up stumbling around in the dark. Nathan's got his hands full."
"Rest assured Mr. Wilmington, I shall endeavor to protect my derriere from any unpleasant encounters with abusive elements."
"Huh?"
"What he means J.D., is that he'll watch his ass." The sly rogue translated with a grin.
"I don't see anything special that needs protecting." Dunne punctuated his tease with a doubtful look at the suave southerner's backside.
Grabbing the youngster by the collar, Ezra turned towards the horses. "Let's depart before I change my mind."
Turning to stare at Chris's drained features, Buck made a silent plea to God. He was going to do everything in his power to see his oldest friend regain his health. With any luck they would also find Vin alive and well. In his heart he knew that Chris shared a deep bond with the younger man, a kinship that went far beyond anything they had once shared. The one man that could pull him back from the brink of death was out there somewhere. He prayed for all their sakes that they would find him alive. Taking a deep breath he stepped into the cabin.
Throughout the ministrations of Nathan and Josiah, the sick man remained unconscious. His temperature was a little cooler with the cold water that was applied to his skin but it was imperative to remove the bullet. The healer debated about trying to wake Chris but opted to perform the surgery while he was still senseless. The instruments were cleaned in boiling water and two lanterns provided enough light to visualize the wound.
"Josiah, I want you to hold his legs." Jackson eyed Buck carefully before addressing him. "You grab a hold of his arms and chest. I'm not sure if he'll move but you boys make sure you're ready."
Satisfied at the nod of acceptance from the men, the skilled dark fingers began cleaning the pus and detritus from the ugly wound. Using a liberal amount of carbolic, he worked carefully. After a few minutes blood ran freely from the injury but there did not appear to be any more purulent drainage. Chris lay silent during the procedure, which worried but did not surprise Nathan. Picking up his probe, he checked to ensure that the patient was well restrained. He inserted the probe into the gory mass of torn flesh, wincing as he felt the tip grate on a ragged piece of broken bone.
To his astonishment, the patient moaned and his head thrashed about on the crude pillow that was fashioned from a jacket. Buck stroked the flushed face whispering words of comfort to the suffering man. As soon as Chris was settled, his oldest friend watched as the probe was advanced deeper into the vulnerable flesh. Relief swept through Jackson's body as he felt the instrument encounter the foreign metal of the bullet.
"Okay, found the slug. Hold him real good cause this is going to hurt."
Nathan carefully inserted a pair of forceps into the wound until it was over the bullet. Gripping the metal tightly, he drove the instrument forward. The jolt of agony awakened raw nerve endings in Larabee's body as he fought to escape the demons holding him down. Wilmington cringed at the pain they were causing his friend but was also rejoicing at the show of strength from the man. As the deadly missile was freed from the imprisoning flesh, a cry of raw torment was set loose from bloodless lips. Chris's strength was short lived and his limbs collapsed into the protecting arms that held him.
Buck's gentle hands wiped the pale face with a damp cloth and his fingers sought the reassuring pulse that beat rapidly under the heated skin.
"I'm going to pack the wound with lint soaked in carbolic. Then we have to set his leg."
The men maintained their positions although there was no further movement from the frail body. Even when Nathan pulled the bones of the femur back into alignment, only a shudder ran through the lean form. Soon the leg was encased in a crude splint and the weary medic sat back to wipe the sweat from his brow. The head injury was less work and Josiah was able to prepare a tea with healing herbs as Nathan and Buck set about cleaning and stitching the gouge.
"Nate, is he going to make it?" Despite the trembling in his voice, Wilmington's hands were sure and steady as he bathed the fevered brow with cold water.
"I don't know. If we can keep his fever down and get lots of fluids into him tonight he may survive the trip back to Four Corners."
Buck was shocked at the reply. "You ain't aiming to put him on a horse tomorrow? That'll kill him! Might as well put a bullet between his eyes now."
"We'll put him on a travois."
"That doesn't answer my question. What are you trying to do to him?"
Jackson bowed his head as he considered his answer. He was really hoping to put this discussion off until later but it was starting to look like he didn't have a choice.
"I'm trying to save his life. I don't have the equipment here that I'll need."
Josiah placed a reassuring hand on the black man's shoulder. "You're carrying a heavy burden, share it with us and lighten the load."
"I'm not sure I can save his leg. It may come down to cutting it off to save his life. If that happens, I want to be back in town."
"No, you can't...his leg...Jesus..." Buck raked a hand through his dark hair and watched the pale features below him on the bed. Chris Larabee was the strongest man he knew, if anybody could survive, it would be him.
"I'm sorry Buck. I'll do everything I can."
Looking into the soulful brown eyes, Wilmington could see tears mirrored in their depths. This man had saved each of their lives at some point and earned their trust.
"I know you will Nate."
The beat of hooves reverberated through the air. Wilmington bolted for the door and quickly identified the riders. "It's J.D. and Ez..."
"Did you find any..." Buck's voice died in his throat when he saw the morbid expression on J.D.'s face. He turned a fast glance at Ezra, who looked even worse. The two men climbed down and stood by their mounts, shaken to the core. "Oh God...Oh fuck..." Buck kicked the ground, realizing that the grim twin expressions meant only one thing. "Where is he?" his broken voice trembled.
"A few miles back, at the bottom of a steep hill..." Ezra frowned and shut his eyes, trying to erase the image of Vin Tanner's broken, lifeless body.
"You left him there?" Buck charged over, gripping the once colorful jacket, now dusty and mud covered. "What the hell is the matter with you. That's Vin Tanner! Jesus Christ, Ezra, you gave them scavengers Vin as a dinner feast."
"Buck!" J.D. pushed his smaller body between the two, forcing Buck's deathgrip to loosen and grant Ezra oxygen. "We didn't have any choice..."
"You always got a choice!" Buck steamed, "The Kid might not know any better, but you should have. You heartless bastard!" he leveled the Southerner with one punch, before Josiah grabbed him.
"Cut it out, Buck," the eldest roared, "That ain't helpin' anything. J.D. what happened?"
"Well," J.D. knelt by Ezra and tapped his face, waiting for the green eyes to blink. "We saw him...a body...and got as close as we could. It's at the bottom of a ravine...all rocky and nothing for leverage. Ezra tried for a half hour to get to him, that's how he got hurt. I tried to talk sense into him but..."
"Hurt?" Buck asked, noticing the odd angle of Standish's shoulder.
"Knocked his shoulder out. My rope wasn't long enough." J.D.'s head bowed, his stomach twirling at the horrid sight he couldn't wash from his eyes. "Ezra undid the rope and tried to get to...to..." J.D. hauled Ezra up and felt his bile rising.
"A head wound, the face," Ezra said stoically grimacing and holding his arm, " was also damaged by the rocks it encountered on its way down. There wasn't much left..."
"Ez...only got halfway down...when he fell." J.D. suddenly felt very exhausted, and his face reflected that along with a new line of seasoning. "We lost the light...it's pitch black out there...I barely was able to get Ezra back...I'm sorry Buck..." He raised his face and stared at the anguished features of the man who'd become the older brother he always wanted. The last thing he ever wanted to see in that face was disappointment...in him. "Vin was my friend too. I wouldn't have left him if..."
"Yeah, I know, Kid," Buck hushed, moving to stand by Standish. "Come on, let's get Nate to look at your arm." He extended his hand and Ezra brushed by him, still angry at the insinuation.
"I only returned to seek Nathan's aid and get some supplies. I am returning to make camp near..." Ezra paused, fingering the fringes on Vin's jacket, which had been hanging near the door. "You won't sleep alone tonight my friend. It will be my honor to guard..." he shook his head and with a heavy sigh, headed inside.
The mood inside the little cabin was somber, each of the men filled with grief over the loss of the sharpshooter and consumed with worry over the state of Chris's health. Despite Nathan's loud arguments, Ezra insisted on returning to the site where the body lay in order to guard it against four-legged predators. His dislocated shoulder was immobilized in a sling and his ever-present flask would chase off the worst of the pain.
Buck insisted on accompanying the somber Standish back to the area where the corpse was discovered. They rode in tense silence, guilt flayed at him, but he couldn't find the words to mend the rift he created. The green-eyed gambler was engulfed in memories of the man who had become a friend, despite the diversity of their personalities. Arriving at the spot high up on the cliff where the body was initially discovered, both men dismounted. Wilmington removed the lantern dangling from his saddle and lit it. Mustering his courage he looked over the edge, the meager flame providing little illumination. Jagged rocks dotted the cliff and were a stark contrast to the almost pastoral scene below. Trees grew alongside the nearby stream lending a sense of peace to the countryside. Following the path of water, Buck's eyes came to rest on the prone figure, twisted limbs flung out like a cast aside ragdoll.
It was impossible to make out any features from this distance and height but it was evident that the body suffered numerous injuries. The one thing Buck was able to discern was the pale Tanner pants and the long hair covering the broken neck.
"Damn it! This just ain't right."
"I'm not sure anything will ever be right again Mr. Wilmington." Ezra turned his attention to his guns trying to ignore the look of grief and anguish on the other man's face.
Buck set about getting a fire started. He laid out a bedroll and collected enough firewood for the night. While he didn't like leaving Ezra here alone all night, he knew Chris needed him more.
"I'll be back in the morning." He assured the other, before remounting his horse and heading back to the line shack.
"Mr. Wilmington?"
Turning around in the saddle, Buck spotted the figure standing sentinel over his friend.
"Don't let anything happen to Chris."
Tipping his hat in a brief salute, the Ladies Man spurred his horse forward.
Buck hovered over his deathly ill friend, talking to him in a soothing voice and cooling his burning flesh with cool water. For the most part, Larabee was deathly still but the steadfast figure noticed that the pale lips were moving slightly although no sound issued forth.
"Nate? I think he might be waking up a bit."
Grabbing a cup of herbal tea the healer moved to examine his patient. He was desperate to get some fluids into the dehydrated body.
"Speak to him Buck. Try to get him awake enough to take some of this tea."
"C'mon pard, wake up now." Gently the charmer cupped the sick man's face and leaned in close. "You can do it. Open up them pretty green eyes and glare at me."
With tremendous effort the eyelids parted slowly and the blond moaned with the awakening of pain. Josiah positioned himself behind Chris in order to elevate his head and facilitate drinking. The gunslinger took a small sip from the cup that was presented to him. The liquid was soothing to the gritty sandpaper that had taken up residence in his throat. His mouth worked at trying to produce a sound but it was several attempts before he could whisper the single syllable.
"V....in"
Wilmington shuddered when he recognized the barely audible word. Chris's usual bright emerald eyes were glazed and unfocused.
"It's Buck. Nathan is here and that's Josiah helping you to sit up. Take some more of this tea."
They were able to get some more tea into anxious patient, but he seemed to grow more agitated as he searched for the blue orbs of the Texan. With surprising strength, he fought the arms that held him.
Through a hazy storm of pain and searing flesh, the injured man squinted at the garish faces over him. His blurry vision made them distorted and strange. He blinked and searched for that which he could not see. Why wasn't Vin here? Chris fevered mind fought to remember where he was and what had happened. He knew something was horribly wrong. The feeling that he came to realize was his bond with the Texan was gone.
"Dead...Vi...n. My fault....dead...fuck... " He pounded his fist weakly against the mat and with that chilling statement, the blond turned his head towards the wall refusing to take further sustenance.
"Chris? Listen to me pard." Buck hated what he was about to do. "Vin ain't dead. He's waiting for you back in Four Corners."
"Promised he ...wouldn't hang. Let...let him down." Chris's weak voice cracked and his glazed eyes filled with anger. "...broke my word... his blood on... m...m..my hands..."
Gently grasping Larabee's chin, Wilmington directed Chris to look at him. "You were dreaming. Vin didn't hang. He's waiting for you back in town and you can't let him down. He needs you, we all need you."
The weakened man clung to the words like a lifeline and quieted under their spell. Obediently, he swallowed some more of the tea before his eyelids drooped and he succumbed to the velvet darkness again.
Self-loathing boiled to the surface and Buck stood up and smashed his fist against the nearest wall. "Damn it! I accused Ezra of being a coldhearted bastard. Maybe I should just look in the mirror!"
Josiah placed a calming hand on the trembling arm. "Brother, you can't blame yourself for all this. What if Vin isn't dead? Are you going to take hope away from Chris when he needs it the most?"
"What if he is dead? How am I going to tell that man that I lied?" A tear hovered dangerously in the dark blue eyes, the bearer brushed it away angrily.
"Well, Buck," Josiah sighed, "if Chris is strong enough to get riled up, I'd say you did your job. Don't you see? Chris needs that to pull through. Vin's his hope...alive or dead..." he paused and watched the play of emotions on the tall man's face. Then he cast a glance at the pale still figure in the bed, body glistening with sweat. The chest was barely rising now, "You got to be prepared, if gangrene sets in, we could lose him..."
"Don't say it Preacher. I ain't in the mood for one of your sermons. Chris ain't gonna die!" Wilmington spat the words in anger. Flinging himself free of contact he spun and strode angrily out the door.
Sanchez glanced at the pale motionless form of their leader before sending a silent plea for healing to the heavens.
The night proved to be a long torturous battle with the fever that gripped Chris in the throes of Hell. He alternated between delirious fits and periods of deathly stillness. Nathan managed to get some water and more tea into him during the times when he was more awake but the cries for Vin and his dead wife and son tore his soul. He would wish for the tortured soul to lapse into unconsciousness again only to find himself worrying at the deathlike quality of his limp body. Only Buck seemed to be able to soothe Larabee when he twisted and moaned in an effort to escape the agony engulfing his body. Calmly stroking his face with a wet cloth, the ladies man spoke soft reassuring words to his oldest friend. Chris would cease his struggles and turn trusting eyes to the safe haven in the familiar timbre of the voice. From Buck, he would take a little water and tea before once again losing the battle to remain awake. Dreading the long journey ahead, each man fought to get some sleep. However, the faint light of the fire revealed the haggard faces that still bore the grim determination they possessed to get their friend home safely.
Buck was resting with his back to the wall waiting for the next delirious episode. Nathan was examining his patient again and frowned at what he saw. Bad news was written on every line on his face.
"What is it Nate?" The other men in the room roused at the query that was issued.
"Don't like the look of this leg."
Wilmington hustled over to peer at the limb. The wound appeared red and angry but there was no evidence of pus. The healer then raised the lantern so that Buck could see the lower portion of the leg and his stomach lurched. The lower leg and foot were definitely paler in color.
"Could be gangrene settin' in. We don't have much time if it is." Nathan knew that Chris's chances of surviving were slim if that were the case. "We gotta leave for home now."
"Josiah, you make sure that travois is ready. J.D., start packing up." Buck was actually relieved at the thought of taking action instead of just sitting around. "I'll go help Ez with the body."
"Wait Buck, I can't spare you. You're the only one that can calm him. Moving him onto the travois is gonna hurt real bad."
J.D. stepped forward with an idea. "I'll stay behind to help Ezra. We'll meet you on the trail."
Wilmington surveyed his young friend startled to observe how he seemed to have aged overnight. He appreciated the offer and made his decision. "Okay Kid. But if I don't see that damn sissy hat of yours..."
"Buck cut it out." J.D. flushed at the emotive stare, "Just take care of Chris."
Reaching out to ruffle the youngster's hair, the older man chuckled at the look of indignation his action produced. He was proud of the man Dunne was becoming and took comfort in their friendship. No matter what happened in the days ahead, he was suddenly very glad that this young man had ventured to come to Four Corners. Fate was a quirky Lady. Now if only she would stay on their side for a few more days.
Despite his determination to stay awake all night, the combination of pain and weariness took its toll and Ezra found himself dozing off. He suddenly became aware of someone calling his name and shaking his uninjured shoulder. He jerked to full awareness and brought his gun up to aim at the intruder.
"Ezra, it's me...J.D. Don't shoot."
"Wha...what are you doing here?"
"Yeesh, just about getting my head blown off by you." Dunne's concern for the gambler quickly had turned to fear and he fought to control his rapid heartbeat.
"I'm sorry, I must have dozed off. Where's Buck?"
"Chris took a turn for the worse during the night and he headed back to town with the others. I came back to help you get the...get Vin's body back."
Ezra quickly remembered the reason he spent the night out in the wilderness and felt guilt wash through him for having fallen asleep. The remorse tripled when he peered over the edge of the cliff and was not able to see the form of his friend.
"J.D. get over here!"
The urgency in his friend's voice made the youngster move swiftly.
"Tell me my eyes are deceiving me." The gambler felt the panic growing.
"I don't see him Ez."
"God no, I've let him down again. How stupid could I be? I let my guard down and some godforsaken creature absconded with his remains." Standish sank to his knees and covered his face with his good hand. Guilt seized him with its fangs, the sharp talons piercing his soul.
Dunne looked at the stricken man with surprise. Ezra wasn't a man used to showing his emotions. It was a little amusing to note that the fancy words deserted him during times like these. He searched his mind for other possibilities.
"Wasn't the body real close to the stream?" At the affirmative nod, he continued to guess at the possibilities. "The current looks like it could be real strong. Could be the body got swept downstream."
"Let's check then." Shoving aside his inner turmoil, Ezra rose to his feet. A sudden bout of dizziness sent him reeling back to his knees.
"Whoa." The sheriff reached out an arm to grab the unsteady form. He was shocked by the trembling and the coldness he could feel right through the southerner's jacket. Searching through pockets he located the flask that Ezra kept handy. Uncapping it he offered it to the pale lips. The warmth from the liquor seeped into Ezra's bones and he welcomed the familiar comfort.
"You aren't going anywhere but back to the cabin." J.D. gathered up the nearby blanket and wrapped it around the shivering form.
"I made a promise to Mr. Tanner and I intend to keep it. Mr. Larabee is right not to trust me."
"You kept your promise. You stayed here all night with Vin. I think he would be really grateful to you."
"Truly?"
The Kid grimaced at the pale, tortured features. "Yup and he'd be downright pissed if you got sick because of it."
"He would just sit in Mr. Jackson's clinic and laugh at the sight of me having to drink what he referred to as 'horse piss'."
J.D. laughed at the memory of all the times the Texan cursed at Nathan's remedies. "He'd probably convince Nate that you needed a good double dosing of that stuff."
"That he would." A fond smile graced the gambler's face. It was replaced by a grimace of pain as he struggled to his feet.
"C'mon mount up and I'll take you back to the shack. While you rest I'll check the river."
Grudgingly the gambler gave in. He was feeling poorly and admitted to himself that he really didn't think he could ride further than the line shack anyhow.
The journey was made in silence and Ezra accepted the supporting arm of the younger man. Despite his perceived betrayal, Standish was asleep as soon as his body collapsed upon the mattress. Dunne covered him with a blanket and stoked a flame to life in the fireplace. He made sure that there was a canteen filled with water nearby before leaving once again to start his grim search.
Vin rode like the hounds of Hell were nipping at his heels. Every time flames of agony tried to rip at his back or fatigue threatened to topple him from the horse, he pictured Chris's face begging him for help. As long as there was any chance that his friend could still be alive, the Texan would push himself beyond the boundaries of human endurance.
Finally, he spotted the worn gray cabin in the distance and he spurred the horse even faster. Even before he could see the smoke curling languidly above the shelter, he smelled the well-known aroma. Hope warred with dread, as he perceived that the shack could be occupied with friend or foe. As he neared, his eyes rejoiced at the familiar mare that belonged to Ezra Standish.
He dismounted rapidly, biting back the scream that threatened to break free as the movement sent shivers of pain flying down his spine. Carefully he approached the shack, mindful of the dangers that could be laying in wait. The lone occupant was a blanket- covered form lying on the thin mattress, the face indiscernible. Holding his breath in fear of what lay underneath, Vin grabbed a corner of the covering and gently peeled it away from the head.
"Ezra?"
The Texan felt his heart skip a beat as the revelation appeared. The dread that filled him started to melt as hope flared within his chest. The others must have come searching for them and found Chris. Did they find him alive or were they heading back to town with his body?
"Dammit, wake up!" Desperate for answers the sharpshooter began shaking the gambler's shoulder vehemently.
Bleary eyes opened and attempted to focus on the face of the rude beast that was trying to rouse him from his slumber. Long unruly hair surrounded the indistinguishable features. Seconds later the haze cleared and his brain finally recognized Vin Tanner.
Shock gave way to horror as a terrified scream erupted from the southerner's throat. Shuffling as far away from the apparition as he could, he started rambling "Good Lord, you've come back to torture me!" Pulling his injured arm free of the sling, he raised his arms as if to ward off a blow.
"What?" Vin screwed his exhausted face up. Genuinely confused, Tanner tried to draw some answers out of the delirious man. "Ezra, where's Chris? Is he alive?"
"Just like poor old Scrooge. I repent my sins." the guilt-ridden figure admonished, his eyes still glazed, "I shan't wear Marley's chains and boxes...no more cheating or swindling. I'll even give up the whiskey." Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the flask and flung it away. He looked at Vin expectantly, certain that the vision would fade away.
"Ya finished? " Vin huffed, his last nerve fried. "Where the fuck is Chris?"
"What? You're the ghost. Can't you just pick and choose where you appear?"
His patience stretched beyond endurance, Tanner reached out and grabbed Ezra by the shoulders and began to shake him. "I ain't no fuckin' ghost and if ya don't tell me where the hell Chris is, yer gonna be the fuckin' corpse totin' Marley's damn chains!"
The look of alarm on Standish's face would have been comical in less dire circumstances. Ezra's puzzled eyes regarded the solid flesh grasping him on one side before turning and studying the other hand gripping his arm. With trepidation, he reached out a trembling finger and quickly poked the chest in front of him. Astonished that his digit encountered a warm solid barrier, he repeated the action. Vin watched with bemusement, unable to comprehend why Standish was so certain he was dead.
"Vin? You're still among the living?" The weight of the question staggered the conman, who gripped the smaller man's arm even tighter.
"That's what I've been tryin' ta tell ya." The Texan fought his way free and tried once again for the elusive answers. "Where's Chris?"
The gambler's grin faded as grim reality once again surfaced. "Buck and Nathan are taking him back to Four Corners. He's perilously ill."
"He's alive?"
"I pray that he is."
The Sharpshooter was puzzled by Ezra's presence in the shack. "Why aren't ya with 'em?"
"J.D. and I remained to retrieve your body before following our companions back to town." At the confused riddled look on the tracker's face the southerner continued his explanation. "We found a body but couldn't reach it. Mr. Larabee's was alone and injured. We presumed the corpse was you."
The Texan's pale face blanched at the thought of his friend. Alone and injured. The words reverberated through his skull. "I have to get to him Ez."
"They departed four hours ago. Take my horse and get going."
"What about you?" Concern accompanied the words as he looked pointedly at the empty sling.
"This is just a minor inconvenience." Vin leaned in close and aided Standish in his painful attempt to arrange his injured arm back into the restraining cloth. "Our esteemed sheriff will be returning to this little abode shortly. I assure you we will be hasten to bring up the rear."
Tanner grinned at the resurgence of the fancy words that signaled Ezra's return to composure. Turning to leave, Vin was stopped by the sound of softly spoken words.
"Welcome back my friend."
Favoring the gambler with one of his lopsided grins, he replied. "Thanks Ez."
Watching the figure disappear, Standish settled back into the mattress to await Dunne's return. He wasn't even aware of the satisfied grin plastered across his face.
The group of men traveling back to Four Corners halted their progress under the shade of some Willow Cotton trees. The noonday sun was scorching, a red ball of fire sending flames to lick at their dry skin. The small stream nearby would help slake their thirsts and help to cool the fever raging within Chris's body.
Dipping a cloth into the refreshing water, Buck moved in to start wiping the sweat running in rivulets down the Blond's face. "How's he doing?"
Nathan's face betrayed his worry. Fresh blood stained the bandage around the wound. He didn't have to lift the bandage to know there was pus present. His nose detected the sour scent of the green excrement that he knew resided in the leg. At least he could tell it wasn't gangrene yet. That was a smell that he would never forget from his long years as a medic during the war. He wasn't sure that the bone was still in alignment, the jostling from the travois may have displaced the ragged ends. His stomach churned as he remembered the agonized cry of pain that issued from the sick man as they initially placed him on the conveyance. Moans and gasps punctuated the tense silence during the ride as they traveled over inevitable rocks and other small obstacles.
"He's real bad. I just don't know how much more his body can take."
"Jesus Nate, we're another a good day's ride from town. Is he going to make it?"
"I don't know, I'm doing the best I can!" Frustration drove Jackson to spit the words out with anger.
"Take it easy, both of you. Chris doesn't need to hear the two of you tearing each other apart."
Buck turned to look at the ashen features of his friend. "What do you need me to do Nathan?"
"You try to get some water into him. I'm going to clean out the wound."
The worried medicine man began the grim task of cleaning the festering wound. Once he was satisfied that all the pus was cleaned out, he repacked the injury with gauze soaked in carbolic. Throughout the painful procedure, Larabee lay insensate. His apprehension heightened as he noticed that the Blond wasn't responding to Wilmington's voice. His limbs lay flaccid and his eyes remained closed. Despair flooded through him as he recognized that their efforts to save the leader might be futile. If they couldn't get any fluid into the ill man, he didn't stand a chance of surviving the brutal journey.
The trio made the decision to resume their journey to Four Corners. The travois was attached to Josiah's horse and Nathan rode behind, his eyes trained on the frail figure of the sick man. He watched as each shallow breath barely inflated Chris's chest. He watched in trepidation, knowing that each new breath could be the last.
He jolted in surprise as Buck's cry broke the tense silence. "Rider coming up behind us."
They all turned to watch the single rider galloping hard in their direction.
"Could be Ezra or J.D. ..." Sanchez offered.
"There's only one of them and that could mean trouble." Wilmington's gut clenched as he dismounted and drew his weapon. Fear for his young friend flooded his body. He was only vaguely aware of the preacher joining him, weapon drawn and ready. Nathan stayed at Larabee's side, ready to defend the helpless man.
"Oh my God!" Josiah uttered in astonishment.
A huge grin lighting up his face, Buck lowered his gun and readied himself to greet the new arrival. "That ain't God, it's a Tanner!" With a whoop of pure joy, he ran to greet the American Lazarus.
Exhaustion and pain slammed into Vin and propelled him from the horse. It took him several seconds to realize who'd caught him. "Damn it...Buck...let go 'o me..." As he was released, the sharpshooter stumbled and would have fallen except for the steadying arms of Josiah and Nathan.
"You are a sight for sore eyes, Brother." Josiah supported the exhausted man.
"You hurt anywhere?" The strong brown hands gripped his shoulders and he ducked his head past the tall man. Tanner longed to see only one man and his beseeching eyes turned to the healer, the question plain to see.
"He's alive but it's bad." Nate answered the beguiling blue eyes.
The tracker sighed in relief and dogged Jackson's footsteps to the side of his best friend. He tried to hold back a gasp of alarm as he looked at the lifeless, fragile body of Chris Larabee. Dropping to his knees, he bit his lip as a knife-like pain jabbed his back. He reached out to brush a stray lock of sweaty hair off the torrid forehead.
"Damn Cowboy, I'm so sorry," he rasped. Interlacing his fingers with those of his friend, he raised their hands to rest against his cheek. He could feel the intense heat radiating from the fevered man. Tears sprang to his eyes, he could feel the life force ebbing from the body. "Don't go..."
Somewhere in the darkness that had taken over his mind, Chris heard the heartfelt plea. The voice belonged to the one he was searching for. He felt the flesh covering his hand, lending him the strength that was lacking. With newfound fortitude he fought to reach the bearer of the soul-fed medicine.
Nathan felt the pulse quicken and sensed the effort the Gunslinger was making. "Keep talking...Vin."
"C'mon Chris, ya ain't glared at me all day." Tightening his grip on the hand, he pleaded with the sick man. "Time fer some o'that special ditch water Nathan's got."
Eyelids parted and dull green eyes searched the distorted, blurry surroundings for the lifeline. They finally latched onto twin blue beacons and a hoarse whisper fought freedom from parched lips.
"V...in."
"It's me Chris , I'm here." The Texan grinned with relief, the expression mirrored on three other faces.
"I'll get a fire going. Looks like we need to get some of your 'ditch water' ready." Josiah laughed at the sour expression on Jackson's face as his healing herbs were once again insulted.
Buck passed a canteen of water to Vin before moving into position to support the wet blond head as he drank.
"Not...dead? Thought you were...dead. My ...f..fault."
"Yer sure as hell quick ta give up on a body. Ain't yer fault. Now drink before I have ta shoot ya."
Vin stayed by the Gunslinger's side as they managed to get some water and tea into him. Before long though, Chris's eyes began to slide shut as his reservoir of energy was depleted. Fearful blue eyes met lost brown ones over the pale figure below.
"Is he gonna make it?"
Jackson decided not to tell Vin about the amputation he feared was inevitable. The time to tell him would come soon enough and Chris needed him to be strong. "A couple of hours ago I didn't think he'd live through the night. He's fighting now thanks to you. It ain't much but it's more than we had before you came along."
"Let's git goin' then."
Nathan's observant eyes didn't miss the flash of agony in Vin's face, nor had he failed to notice signs of exhaustion. "Let me just take a quick look at you."
"Chris needs ya. I'm okay, jist a little headache." The Texan quickly mounted his horse before anyone could protest. Riding behind the travois so that Chris could see him if he woke up, Vin nudged forward.
"Damn fool." Nathan muttered as he climbed into the saddle and began the journey home again.
Night was rapidly falling before the men halted to rest. Buck and Josiah set out to catch some game while Nathan gathered some wood to start a fire. Vin was gently wiping at Chris's fevered skin with a cool cloth as he ruminated on the miracle of finding his friend alive. It didn't take long for Nate to heat up some broth. He knelt beside the exhausted caregiver and saw a wistfullness in the red-rimmed blue eyes.
"Where you at, Vin?" He asked, lifting Chris's head. The blond's eyes were open and unfocused. He seemed to hear only Vin's voice.
"Go on and drink, Chris..." Vin said sharply, addressing the confused stare. The lips parted on instinct and Nate smiled again, getting the spoon inside.
He spoke in a soft soothing tone, reassuring the injured man of his presence. "I used t'do this fer my Ma when she took sick. I's jes' a little fella but there weren't no else ta do it. Ma used ta talk 'bout travelin' ta big cities she heard about. Before she died, she told me that she was goin' far away." Vin swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I's all curled up next ta her in bed and she told me all 'bout Heaven."
Nathan's eyes were full of compassion as the Texan's wistful words reminded him of the painful loss of his own mother.
"I was real 'fraid and asked her not ta go." Vin continued "She told me she would always be with me. No matter if I went t'the four corners of earth, she would be at my side, an' I believed her. All them bad things happened t'me an' I tried t'remember she was with me."
Jackson nodded, remembering all the times he wished for the comforting touch of his mother's hand. "I know what you mean. What I wouldn't give to have just a few hours to talk to my Ma again. Just to tell her how much I miss her."
The sharpshooter looked into Jackson's face and saw his own pain mirrored in the dark eyes. "When I was all growed, I knew she just said them things t'make me feel better. One day I happened into Four Corners and I stayed put cause I figgered maybe this was the place she was talkin' 'bout. Then I seen ya and them drunks fixin' on hangin' ya. and next thing I know...I had me a family again."
Nathan smiled as he thought about the day that this young man stepped forward to save his life. The gratitude he felt that day evolved into a deep bond he shared with these six men. Vin didn't open up and talk about his past very often and he felt a deepening kinship with the man.
"Your Ma must have been very special Vin." Standing, he gripped the Texan's shoulder before turning back to the fire to get some herbal tea.
"Ya know yer kin...yer a brother t'me Chris. I reckon this is what my Ma was talkin' bout." The ripping pain in his gut was real, as the frail body before him threatened to slip away...forever. "Please Chr..is, don't leave. I...don't want...t'be alone... again."
Vin freshened the cloth and continued his ministrations, reassured by the steady rise and fall of the blond's chest. Seeing Nathan approaching with a fresh mug of herbal tea, he scrubbed the evidence of tears away.
"I got to change this dressing. Figured we could try and get more tea in him." The healer paused to examine his patient before turning his attention to the wound.
"How's he doin' Nate?"
"He ain't changed in the five minutes since ya asked me last time, Vin." Nate said softly, catching the emotive stare, "Have some faith...he needs to feel your faith in him." He saw the shaggy head dip and the voice was much steadier as it addressed the lost soul. As Vin spoke, Nate went to work.
Working together they managed to change the dressing which elicited moans of pain from the flushed, wet face.
The cries of pain tore at Vin's soul and he questioned the healer. "Can't ya give him somethin' fer the pain?"
"He's too weak. It could kill him."
The restless tracker moved to reassure the patient "It's okay Chris. Nate's done."
"Hur...ts."
"I know Pard. Can ya take some of this tea?"
Chris drank a few sips before his stomach violently erupted, emptying its sparse contents. Hastily they turned him onto his side, the sharpshooter bearing most of the weight as he supported frail body. He bit back a moan as agony surged through his tortured back muscles.
Small breathless cries of torment issued from the blond as his own body was helpless against the onslaught of pain thrumming along every nerve.
"Put him on his back again."
Ignoring his body's own pleas for relief, he tenderly eased the sick man back. Grabbing a wet cloth he wiped the sweat covered features.
"Sarah?"
Vin looked to the healer, concern etched on his face. Were the specters of the past coming to claim the soul of their loved one?
"He's delirious with fever." Nate answered the question.
After a few moments Chris's eyes closed as he slipped back into a painless black void.
"We'll try some water when he wakes up again." Nathan clamped a reassuring hand on the Texan's shoulder before moving back towards the fire.
Don't leave me Chris!
The men were eating a quick meal around the campfire. J.D. and Ezra caught up with them easily and the youngest was ebullient at the sight of the tracker alive and well. Chris lay sleeping but Vin kept a reassuring hand on his arm. His stomach did not rebel when he next regained consciousness and, with a little coaxing, they managed to get some water into him. The fatigue and worry was written all over their faces.
"You never did tell us what happened back there Vin." Buck remembered, seeing the bruises and damage done by the quiet man's captor.
The Texan warily eyed the faces that looked at him in expectation but, did not see the damnation that he expected. That would all change when he related the events that led up to the desperate situation they found themselves in.
Taking a deep breath, he told them about delivering the prisoner in Eden. Then he described how they were attacked and Chris was wounded. He paused as his mind went back to his decision to leave Chris and go for water. Maybe that was a mistake as well but he didn't know at the time that help was on the way. Nevertheless, his sense of guilt deepened.
"Then the body we found belonged to the guy you shot." J.D. surmised.
Vin nodded and continued his tale, describing how he was captured by the other bounty hunter and his subsequent escape. He decided not to tell them about the quarrel he and Chris had in Eden, or about the gruesome intentions of his captor.
Buck was still puzzled about something. "Why did you take a different trail back to town. If it wasn't for the tracking skills you taught the Kid, we might not have found Chris until it was too late."
The ladies man missed the grimace that crossed Vin's face. How could he explain his own cowardice? "I's jist thinkin' it would be faster."
Josiah sensed that the sharpshooter had said all he wanted to say and rose to his feet. "I think we better make tracks. " He didn't miss the look of gratitude from Tanner.
As Dunne moved past him, Vin stopped him. "Nice job J.D. Thanks."
The younger man was pleased by the praise and his step was a little lighter as he went to fetch the horses.
The noonday sun was beating down as the peacekeepers spotted their destination in the distance. Chris was still holding on and had awakened twice during the night. Vin refused to leave his side and Nathan worried about both of them. At least the blond was able to take more fluids and there were no further episodes of vomiting. Knowing the gruesome task that lay ahead, Jackson announced his plans to ride ahead and ready the clinic.
Within an hour they arrived in front of the clinic. It was decided that it would take most of them to lift Chris up the stairs. With great caution, Josiah took his upper torso while J.D. and Buck each supported a leg. Ezra went ahead of them, clearing the stairs of any obstacles and opening the door to the clinic. Even with the care they took, Larabee cried out in pain as he was lifted. Moving as carefully as they could, they managed to maneuver the sick man up the steps and deposited the precious burden on the bed. Vin remained at the base of the stairs. His back was pounding with hot fury and every step was like a knife being shoved in the tender spot. It took him several minutes to get to the top, his face and body covered in sweat from the effort.
Within minutes Chris was stripped of his clothes and covered with a blanket. Semi-conscious, he continued to moan piteously. Nathan set to work quickly, exposing the injured leg and removing the dressing. The wound was red and angry looking but Jackson was surprised at the small amount of pus. The entire limb was swollen and blood flow to the lower portion seemed to be affected as it was cool to touch and paler than it should have been.
The men held their breath as they awaited a decision from the healer. Vin was still unaware of the dire dilemma they faced.
Finally Buck broke the silence. "Well Nate?"
"I don't see that we have a choice." The healer face was grim as he relayed the news.
"Damn." Buck's shoulder's slumped and all the air seemed to leave his body. This clear sign of defeat caught all of Vin's attention.
The tracker fixed his puzzled gaze on Jackson. "What choice?"
"Come with me, Vin." Sanchez tried to direct the Texan out of the room.
"I ain't leavin'. What choice?" The determined body looked at the resignation on the faces around him and refused to move without getting some answers.
"I didn't tell you Vin. Chris's leg...what's killin' him..." Nathan tried to break the news gently but was interrupted as Vin's dread grew.
"What the fuck are ya sayin'?"
"He saying that he has to take Chris's leg to save him." Wilmington spit out the words. Although resigned to the inevitable, he was still hoping things would work out differently.
As the words sunk in, horror overcame Tanner and he placed himself protectively at his friend's side. "No...ya can't. I ain't gonna let ya!"
"Vin, he's made it this far against all odds." Josiah stepped in to help the younger man understand. "He survived the trip back to town. None of us want to see this happen but are you asking us to let him die now?"
Stunned beyond words, a numb Tanner shook his head. Sanchez placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Chris is the strongest man I know and he's going to get through this. We have to give him a chance."
"I'm sorry Nate. Ya do what's best." The Texan felt tears rise at the thought of his friend going through the rest of his life with only one leg. He also knew that Nathan Jackson wouldn't make the decision unless there were no other option. Whatever happened, Chris would never have to deal with this alone. A silent promise was made. I'm not leaving you Cowboy. We'll get through this together.
"I'm going to need you guys to clear out except for Josiah."
Vin opened his mouth to protest but then closed it as he saw the determined look on the healer's face. His eyes were awash with tears as he looked at Larabee's debilitated face. Hands took him by the arm and guided him out of the room but his gaze never left the precious visage.
"Josiah, I want you to give him a little ether. If he shows any signs of waking up then give him a bit more."
Sanchez did as he was instructed. Putting a few drops onto a cloth, he held it over Chris's nose and mouth until he saw the features relax. Except for the pale skin and gaunt cheeks the man looked like he was merely sleeping. He turned to watch as Nathan picked up a scalpel. They had cleared off the table inside the clinic and cleaned it as best they could. Larabee's prone body lay upon it now.
Seeing Jackson hesitate, the preacher sought to reassure him. "It wasn't your decision, you're saving his life."
Nodding, Nathan took a deep breath and pressed the scalpel to the wound. Several minutes later, layers of skin and muscle were dissected and he could see the bone. Somehow through that long torturous trip the bones stayed in alignment and were even now starting to knit together. He was still puzzled however, at the small amount of pus around the injury. It was also very curious that the surrounding tissue appeared healthy. Exploring the tissue of the medial side of the bones, he searched for the femoral artery. He would need to tie off that major blood vessel first. If it were cut accidentally Chris would bleed to death within minutes. His probing fingers encountered a round object near the area of the artery. Handing a clamp to Sanchez he instructed him to use it to pull back the tissue to allow a better look at the area. With a better field of view, Nathan bent forward to get a closer look at the mysterious object.
"Oh my God!"
Although everybody thirsted for a nice long beer, no one wanted to leave the landing outside the clinic. Ezra watched Tanner closely, deeply concerned about the pain and fatigue he saw etched into the features.
" ...damn...." Guilt was weighing heavily on the tracker. "...s'all m'fault..."
"You're right Vin, it is all your fault." J.D. and Ezra turned horrified eyes on the ladies man.
"Mr. Wilmington, surely you're not blaming..."
"What I'm saying Vin, is that it's your fault we even have Chris Larabee with us today." Ignoring the puzzled glares, Wilmington settled himself on the stair next to the tracker. "If it weren't for you, that walking shell that called himself Chris Larabee would have drowned himself in a bottle a long time ago. I don't know how you did it but you gave him life again. You gave me back my old friend. I wouldn't trade the last two years for a twenty years of watching him die a slow death. Thank you Vin. Thank you for my friend."
Tanner looked at the hand stretched out and grasped it firmly. Lost for words, his blue eyes revealed his feelings.
"Why Mr. Dunne, is that a tear I detected running down your cheek?"
"Cut it out Ez. I got some dust in my eye."
Grinning at the antics of their friends, Buck and Vin settled in side by side for the long wait.
It was two hours before the door opened and a grim faced Sanchez appeared. They held their breath, dreading the news. Josiah's face was haggard and gave them no hope as to what transpired within the clinic. Suddenly the craggy face split into a grin. Relieved that his expression revealed that Chris was alive, they were puzzled as to why the preacher was smiling.
"Well Brothers, it seems that God has seen fit to grant us another miracle. Our leader is still with us and with the Lord's grace, will be walking on his own two feet again."
Scrambling to their feet, the four men rushed the entrance, eager to discover what had happened. Standing inside the door, they could see that Chris still lay on the makeshift operating table. To their astonishment though, he was intact, his right leg exactly where it should have been.
Buck was the first to find his voice. "What happened? I thought..."
Nathan felt fatigue gnawing at his bones but patiently explained the surgery. "When I got in there, I discovered an abscess lying real close to the artery."
"What is an ab..ab...whatever?" Vin asked.
"It's a pocket of infection. That's why there wasn't a whole lot of pus in the wound the last day or so. Something like that gets walled up and can't drain. I've opened it up and cleaned it out. The swelling was cutting off the blood flow to his lower leg so I opened up an incision the length of it to allow for proper circulation."
Vin didn't totally understand but he knew what was important. "Is he gonna be okay?"
"He survived the surgery but he's even weaker now. If I can't get the fever down soon, it won't matter how many legs he has."
"Then we have some work to do." Buck stated, more determined than ever.
Under the direction of Jackson, the blond was moved from the table back to the bed by strong hands. Nathan insisted that everyone get a good meal but Vin refused, staying by his friend, wiping his body down with cool water. Chris lay motionless under his ministrations. If anything, he was even paler than before and heat radiated from his skin. But at least he was alive and that knowledge lent strength to his six friends.
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