By the time Randall had gotten back to Four Corners, the storm had worsened considerably. He knew Standish's friends wouldn't be back before tomorrow... maybe later if the weather didn't improve. Knowing there was nothing he could do for the gambler until the other lawmen returned, he decided to stop at the saloon for a drink or two and then get some sleep. Several of the townsfolk were in the saloon playing cards, drinking and talking. As far as Randall could tell, the two main topics of conversation were the storm... and Standish's disappearance. Most of the talk about the conman seemed to be centered around what they would all like to do to whoever was responsible for his kidnapping. Their vivid descriptions of their desired method of punishment was enough to make Randall have second thoughts about revealing his part in the whole mess to the lawmen when they returned. He finally decided it might be better to just write a note telling what had happened and describe where Standish was being held and by whom... of course, leaving his name completely out of it. He wanted to help the man, but not at the cost of his own life... and the way these people in the saloon were talking... that was a very real possibility.
Randall decided to have one more beer before he went to deliver the note. When Inez placed the glass of beer in front of him, he pulled the money out of his pocket to pay for it and watched in horror as the ruby ring he'd taken off of the gambler's finger when they'd kidnapped him dropped out and rolled across the floor, coming to rest by one of the townsmen's feet. The man bent and picked it up and stared first at the ring and then at Randall, an angry glare replacing the look of surprise that had been on his face a moment before.
"Inez... isn't this Mr. Standish's ring?" the man asked as he walked over and laid it on the bar in front of her.
Inez's hand shook as she picked up the ring. She looked closely at it and then stared intensely at Randall. "Where did you get this?!"
Randall's face paled as he saw everyone in the saloon closing in on him and he started to make up a lie about finding the ring in the alley... but suddenly the image of the gambler's pale, battered face appeared in his mind and he just couldn't ignore it. His shoulder's slumped as he told the crowd what had happened... how Parker had hired him to help kidnap Standish and that he'd had no idea how evil the man truly was. He finished by telling them that he had planned on leaving a note at the jail describing how to find Standish and that he was truly sorry for his part in what had happened.
The longer he talked, the angrier the crowd got and they were ready to lynch him by the time he got to the end of his explanation. Randall started backing across the room as the crowd closed in on him, his eyes searching frantically for a means of escape.
"Wait!" Inez yelled and hurried to move in front of Randall to try and keep the crowd back. "Yes, it was awful what he did... but at least he came here to try and help Senor Standish. And Mr. Larabee and the others will need this man to take them to him!"
There was a lot of grumbling but they finally agreed that she was right and took him over and locked him in one of the jail cells. Inez went to tell Mary about Randall and she immediately hurried to the telegraph office to send messages to Chris and the others. Now all they could do was wait until the men returned and pray they would be in time to help Ezra.
Ezra was drifting in and out of consciousness when Parker decided it was time to continue the game.
"Standish... wake up!" He grabbed the smaller man by the arm and shook him roughly.
Ezra could hear someone calling his name but chose to ignore it... leaving the void he was in would mean a resurgence of the pain and fear he'd been experiencing. He much preferred the darkness and quiet he floated in now, but suddenly the peaceful void was shattered by the return of the painful words he'd heard earlier. Only this time it was his friends' voices he heard repeating them... 'you little coward'... 'he's useless'... 'lying cheater'... 'worthless piece of trash'. Every one of them cutting through his heart like a knife. Suddenly the pain and fear of the real world seemed preferable to this tearing apart of his soul and he finally allowed the voice calling his name to pull him back.
Parker had his hand raised to slap Standish when he felt him try to pull out of his grip and realized he was finally awake. "It's about damn time you came to. Now come on... we've got some more experiments to run." He jerked the smaller man up off the cot and smiled in satisfaction at the cry of pain that was wrenched from the gambler's mouth as he was forced to stand on his injured ankle. "Well, it seems being blind has increased your sensitivity to pain... or have you always been weak when it came to that? No wonder the others were glad to see you go... probably got tired of hearing you whine about every little ache and pain. You must have been quite a liability to them in a fight... having to protect you and make sure the little mama's boy didn't get hurt. Mama's boy... hell, your own mother probably didn't even want a poor excuse like you for a son."
Ezra clamped his mouth shut as he felt the bones in his ankle grind together, refusing to give his torturer the pleasure of hearing him cry out again. But he couldn't stop the tremor that rippled through his body at the man's cruel words. Well, there was no arguing with that one, Ezra thought wearily... his mother definitely hadn't wanted him. In fact she'd shoved him off on any relative she could find... anything to keep him away from her.
Parker felt him tremble and laughed as he realized he'd stumbled upon another weapon to use against him. "What's the matter, little man... mommy didn't love you enough? Is that your excuse for the way you turned out? Hell, it's a wonder your so-called friends let you hang around as long as they did... must have been something you could do that they needed. Let's see, was it your ability to lie and cheat? Or did they need you to run some con for them. No... that can't be it... they're honest, upstanding lawmen. Well, hell... that only leaves one thing that I can think of. They must have kept you around for the laughs."
Ezra stiffened and tried to pull away from Parker as his words continued to hit home, but the larger man just held on and continued to drag him across the floor to the same chair in the middle of the room that he had occupied earlier. Ezra tried but couldn't smother the cry of pain that escaped his lips as he was thrown back in the chair, striking his ankle against the chair leg. He would have fallen to the floor if Parker hadn't hung on to him. The pain was so intense it made his head swim and he was sure he was going to pass out again, but he fought it with every ounce of strength he had left, knowing another beating would surely follow if he left that chair.
"That's it, isn't it? They laughed at you... thought you were just a joke. Laughed at your fancy clothes... laughed at your condescending way of talking... laughed at the fact that you thought they were your friends. Did you know they were laughing behind your back? Or was it worse than that... did they do it to your face." Parker leaned close to the gambler who clutched desperately at the chair, his whole body trembling with the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him. Parker circled Ezra, whispering first in one ear and then the other... leaning in until he was practically touching him... constantly re-enforcing the gambler's feelings of betrayal and loneliness. "Do they know about your mother, Standish? How much she loathes you? Did they laugh at that, too?"
Parker saw Ezra flinch at the mention of his mother and knew he had him. He pressed harder... wanting to make him lose that control he was trying so hard to maintain.
"You hate her for that, don't you, little man... hate her for abandoning you the same way your friends have abandoned you now... hate her for not being a mother to you." He saw the gambler's chest heave as he struggled against the rising tide of hate that his words had started. Parker thought he was prepared for when the gambler broke... but nothing could have prepared him for the explosion of emotion that drove Ezra up out of the chair and straight into him.
The force of Ezra's body hitting him threw him off balance and they both landed in a heap on the floor. Even with his hands strapped down and all his injuries, the gambler was still a force to be reckoned with. He was driven by all his pent up feelings over what his mother had done to him all these years... the way the other six had treated him... never including him in the group as an equal... always making him feel that one wrong move on his part would have him tossed out on his ear. Discarded like he was nobody. Ezra was so enraged he had no idea what he was doing... didn't feel the pain of his ankle banging against Parker's legs... didn't think about what was going to happen when the other man finally got a hold of him... and didn't realize he was sobbing uncontrollably the whole time he was trying to hurt the bastard lying beneath him.
By the time Parker realized what had happened and managed to get his arms wrapped around Ezra, he'd already received several bites and finger gouges from him. Furious with himself for not anticipating the attack and underestimating the gambler, he turned his wrath on his victim. Clutching Standish tightly against his chest, he drew back his foot and placed a vicious kick to the conman's broken ankle. The scream of pain that exploded from Ezra's mouth stunned Parker momentarily, but he soon recovered and managed to drag the now half-conscious man off of him. He took several minutes to catch his breath and then stood, hauling Ezra's limp body up with him and slamming him violently back into the chair.
"That's it, Standish... do you hear me?!" Parker pinned the smaller man in the chair with one hand and back-handed him with the other. "I said do you hear me, damn it?!"
Ezra nodded his head weakly... an occasional sob still shaking his body and his face still wet with tears.
"Stay in that damn chair... I'll be right back. Move one inch and everything you've gone through so far will seem like nothing compared to what I'll do to you. You got it?" Parker gave the smaller man another slap for good measure and moved away.
Ezra tried to rein in his rampaging emotions... he hated letting that miserable sonofabitch get the better of him, but he just couldn't seem to stop crying. He had never felt so scared and alone in his whole life... and nothing he'd ever been through had prepared him for this lost and desolate feeling that threatened to destroy him. Everything he'd thought he'd gained by trying to turn his life around had been ripped away from him... had all been a huge joke. Ezra shook his head to try and clear it of the self-pitying thoughts he kept having and tried to concentrate on something else. But the fever burning within him kept his mind clouded and he found it impossible to focus on anything but the pain in his body and the even bigger pain in his heart.
Parker kept one eye on the gambler as he worked on his next phase of the game. Time to test his victim's sense of sound. He opened the chamber of his gun and removed all but one of the bullets, snapping it back into place with a loud click. He watched Standish's head swivel in his direction at the sound and moved slowly and quietly back to his side.
Ezra jumped when Parker clamped a hand down on his shoulder and spoke. He'd never even heard him coming.
"Okay, Mr. Standish... it's time to test your hearing... let's see if it's been heightened any by your lack of sight. Now... can you identify this sound?" Parker watched the color drain from the other man's face as he held the gun lightly against his temple and pulled back the hammer. "I see you recognize it. Now we're going to play a little game that has nothing to do with my experiment. I just thought you might enjoy it. Have you ever heard of Russian roulette, Mr. Standish?"
Chris and Vin climbed wearily up the hotel stairs to their rooms. They'd questioned almost everyone in the town of Eagle Bend with no luck... no one had seen Ezra or Parker.
"Well, what do you think? Do we head back in the morning or do we keep lookin' here?" Chris glanced at Vin as he spoke and noticed the dark circles under the tracker's eyes. None of them had slept much since Ezra disappeared and it was starting to take its toll on their minds and bodies.
"Hell, I don't know Chris... I'm runnin' out of ideas. I can't think of anyplace we haven't already looked. He has t' have taken Ezra somewhere around here and holed up but damn if I can figure out where it could be." Vin took his hat off and raked his hand through his mop of hair in frustration. "I just know I feel damn useless not being able to find even a trace of 'em."
"Well, let's get some sleep and we'll start back after breakfast." Chris turned to enter his room but was stopped by Vin's quiet voice.
"Do you think he's still alive, Chris?"
Vin didn't think he was going to answer him but finally Chris spoke... his voice cold enough to send a shiver up the tracker's spine. "He'd better be."
Vin watched Chris as he went in his room and closed the door. Shaking his head, one thought ran though his mind... 'Parker better pray Chris Larabee never catches up to him if we don't find Ezra alive.'
Ezra froze when he felt the cold metal touch his skin and his heart almost stopped when he heard the soft click of the hammer.
"I asked you a question, Mr. Standish... I would strongly suggest you answer it." Parker increased the pressure of the gun.
Ezra felt the barrel of the gun grind against his temple and after swallowing painfully several times managed to answer his tormentor. "As a matter of fact I have, Mr. Parker... interesting game." His voice was hoarse but steady... he was determined to not let the bastard see any fear.
CLICK...
Ezra's heart leaped into his throat. He thought he'd prepared himself for it, but even though he managed to hold his body still, he couldn't control the white hot fear that rushed through him.
"Very good, Mr. Standish... an admirable job of hiding your emotions. Of course, being a gambler you would be practiced at it, wouldn't you? Being a gambler myself, I know about building those walls... hiding behind them so no one knows what you're up to. But you let yours down, didn't you? That's how your so-called friends managed to get to you, wasn't it? You made the ultimate mistake of letting them see how you felt... letting them know how much you needed to be accepted by them. They're probably still laughing at what a fool you were..." He saw the gambler tremble... good...
CLICK....
This time Ezra couldn't hold back the shudder that tore through him at the sound of the hammer striking. He tried to drag his mind away from thoughts of his friends and to concentrate on... no...wait... not his friends... they'd abandoned him... left him here to suffer at the hands of this madman... but ... they wouldn't do that to him... would they? Ezra groaned softly as he tried to focus his thoughts but his fever was worsening and he just couldn't seem to think straight. He swayed slightly as the darkness threatened to take him again.
Parker saw him weaving in the chair and knew he was on the verge of passing out. Grabbing a handful of Standish's hair, he jerked his head up and gave it a hard shake... the gun scraping across Ezra's skin leaving a thin line of blood in it's wake.
Parker leaned in to hiss in the gambler's ear. "You better stay with me, little man... or I'll have to tie you in this chair. I'm sure the ropes biting into that wound on your arm and squeezing those bruised ribs will keep you awake. Can't you just imagine the pain from it scraping across all those nasty cuts on your back and chest?" The card sharp ran his hand roughly across Ezra's chest, reawakening the burning sensation in his skin.
Ezra gasped as the pain seemed to envelop every fiber of his being. His fingers clutched frantically at the sides of the chair as he forced his rapidly weakening body to remain upright. His head swam as an incredible wave of dizziness swept over him, his thoughts tumbling uncontrolled through his mind. 'Where were they?... my friends... why don't they come for me?'... taunting laughter... their faces blending together in his feverish mind... Parker's voice calling him 'little man'... his mother walking away... laughing at him... ridiculing him.
CLICK...
A hoarse cry tore it's way out of his throat as his body jerked upright in the chair. His heart thundered in his chest as he gasped for breath... the fear threatening to consume him. The combination of the incredible tension and the fever were rekindling the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and he wanted nothing more than to sink back into the void. To not feel anymore... not feel the pain... the fear... and especially to not feel the despair that clutched at his heart. Oh God... why wasn't someone there to help him. He'd always been so sure no matter how strained their relationship, that Chris Larabee would be there if any of them really needed him. He was their leader... their protector. And he needed him now... why wasn't he here? Then Ezra's thoughts shifted and he heard Chris's voice echoing in his head... 'little coward'... 'run out on us'... no... wait... it was another voice that had said that, wasn't it?... not Chris... not his friend... someone else... and that voice had said something else. He tried to remember what it was... then he heard the voice say... 'I lied'. Lied?... about what?... but his mind was just too tired to think anymore.
"Chris... help me... please..." Ezra's voice shook as he whispered plaintively.
Parker pressed the barrel of the gun tighter against the gambler's head as he leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Beg all you want, Standish... no one's coming to help you. No one cares what I do to you. You're going to die here all alone... and no one will even notice you're gone."
CLICK...
Ezra stiffened and then slumped in the chair with his head resting wearily on his knees. His body shook as the incredible tension drained all the strength out of him. "No more... please... no more."
Parker stared down at the gambler and shook his head in disgust... he'd thought sure the man had enough backbone to make it to the end of the game before breaking. He nudged him roughly with his boot. "Sit up, Standish... this isn't over yet." But Ezra was just too emotionally drained to respond to the demands made on him to rise.
"Your 'friends' were right then, weren't they? You are a sniveling little coward." Ezra's tormentor smiled as he saw the other man slowly stop shaking and heard the mumbling grind to an abrupt halt. "I'll bet they'd love to see you now... to watch you whining and begging like the worthless little piece of trash you are."
Ezra was aware enough to hear the hateful words the sadistic man was hurling at him. He knew he should be getting angry and trying to fight back but he was just too sick and tired of it all to even try. It wouldn't stop anything... no one was coming to help him... to stop his tormentor from playing his little game. Ezra knew it would only bring him more pain if he fought back... more torture... he just wanted it all to end. He was just so tired.
Parker saw that he had nearly broken the man and wasn't going to get a rise out of him with words so he reached down, grabbed the smaller man by the neck and roughly sat him back up in the chair.
He leaned in close to the gambler's face and tried once more to penetrate the apathy that had settled over his victim. "Are you ready to die now, little man?" He saw Ezra tremble and continued. "You're a gambler, Standish... you know what your odds are now... fifty-fifty."
Ezra tensed as he felt the gun being pressed once more to his head. He moaned softly as the cold metal settled once more on the bruised and tender skin. The click of the hammer being drawn back made his blood run cold and he held his breath as he waited for the...
CLICK...
Ezra's whole body shook violently as his nerves finally snapped. Ignoring the agonizing pain in his ankle, Ezra stood and began screaming at Parker to end it.
"Shoot me, you sonofabitch... just shoot me and get it over with!! I don't care anymore.... do you hear me?! I want to die... shoot me, damn it!!"
Parker looked down at the smaller man in amazement. He didn't think he'd had the strength left to stand much less expend this much emotion. He had to admit... he was impressed with the gambler's toughness, but now he had to decide whether to use the bullet left in the gun to end the game or to subdue him and continue it later. If Standish had this much left in him then he obviously wasn't completely broken yet. Maybe some more physical torture was called for... so he chose to continue the game and see just how low he could drive the man.
Stepping up to the still screaming man, Parker raised the gun and slashed it viciously across his face... the force of the blow sending him crashing into the wall. Ezra felt himself falling back into the void and welcomed it. Finally... a respite from the pain. As he lost consciousness his body slid slowly down the wall and sprawled limply on the floor.
Vin and Chris were up early the next morning, eager to get back to Four Corners to see if there was any news about Ezra. They were in the hotel dining room having a bite of breakfast when the Sheriff came in and walked over to their table.
"I was hoping you were still here. This telegram came in last night, but I didn't get it until this morning. I hurried over here as soon as I read it... it's about your friend." The Sheriff handed Chris the piece of paper and watched him as his eyes scanned quickly over the words.
"Return to Four Corner's immediately... have Parker's accomplice in jail... wants to help Ezra... Mary Travis." The gunslinger read the telegram out loud for Vin's benefit before tossing it back at the startled Sheriff.
"Damn it! Why the hell didn't they get this to you sooner?! We've wasted the whole night!" Chris exclaimed as he stood, grabbed his gear and headed for the door, knocking his chair over in his haste to leave.
Vin followed him out, tipping his hat to the Sheriff as a silent apology for Chris' outburst. He had to run to catch up as Chris made his way hurriedly through the snow to the livery.
"Chris!... Chris... wait up." Vin struggled through the huge drifts of snow trying to keep up with the long-legged gunslinger. He glanced at the sky and saw the threatening gray clouds rolling in. Just what they needed... more snow.
Chris stopped and waited for Vin to catch up and shot him an apologetic look. "Sorry, Vin. I just can't believe that damn telegram's been sitting there all night... we could've been back home and on our way to get Ezra by now."
"I know... and if this storm hits before we get back to town it's gonna be even longer before we'll be able to go after him." Vin pointed at the clouds as they hurried into the livery.
"Like hell! I don't care if it's a damn blizzard... we're grabbing that sorry sonofabitch that helped take Ezra and we're going after him. God only knows what Parker's doing to him!" Chris saddled his horse and loaded on his gear then turned to wait for Vin to finish with his.
"Or what's goin' through his mind at this point... he's got to be thinkin' we're not comin' after 'im by now," Vin said as he shot a worried glance at Chris. He could see that Ezra's possible feelings of abandonment had occurred to him, too. They led their horses out into the street, glanced one last time at the threatening sky and headed at a gallop for home.
Ezra came to slowly, unsure of where he was or what had happened to him. All he was certain of was that he hurt everywhere and he was hot. He lay on the floor sweating, trying to gather his thoughts before slowly opening his eyes. Panic set in as he realized he couldn't see and it was a few seconds before his memories of the last few days came crashing back and he remembered the blindfold. He was suddenly overwhelmed by an acute feeling of claustrophobia and started frantically scrubbing his face along the floor trying to release himself from the smothering darkness. He could feel the blood oozing from the wound on his cheek where Parker had hit him with his gun... the pain from it bringing tears to his eyes. But he couldn't stop himself... he had to get it off. Suddenly he felt it slip... the sweat dripping down his face had finally given him the edge he needed in his fight to be rid of it.
And then Ezra remembered the last time he'd almost been free of the hateful device. The memory of Parker's threat to blind him for real and of the beating he'd received made him pause in his efforts to remove the blindfold. He held his breath and listened... silence... and then he heard a noise from outside. He recognized the sound and realized his tormentor was out chopping more wood for the fire. His mind raced as he tried to decide whether to risk removing the blindfold or to just lay there and do nothing. How long had Parker been out there... if he got caught the beating would surely be worse than the last one... but it could be his only chance to escape... maybe if he waited the others would come. But then he remembered they weren't coming, they were glad he was gone. The fever made focusing on any one thought for long nearly impossible. Finally, Ezra could stand the inky blackness no longer and returned to the task of removing the blindfold. Ignoring the searing pain in his cheek, he scraped his face harder and harder across the floor until the blindfold finally slid the rest of the way off. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut as even the muted light in the cabin shot bolts of pain through his eyes after the constant darkness. He waited a few minutes and when the throbbing started to ease he opened his eyes gradually, letting only a little bit of light in at a time. The pain was still there although not as intense, but his vision was blurry because he couldn't get his eyes to stop watering. Even so, it was still a huge relief to have that confining contraption off and to be out of the darkness at last.
Ezra blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision while he listened for signs of Parker's return. He could still here the thump of the axe so he knew he was safe for a little while longer, but he also knew what would happen when the man returned and saw him without the blindfold. Ezra tried to turn his whirling mind away from the fear that thought brought with it and concentrate on finding some way of removing himself from the madman's game.
Chris and Vin rode into Four Corners shortly before noon. They'd hoped to make better time, but the snow had started falling heavily again shortly after they'd left Eagle Bend slowing them down considerably. They headed directly for the jail, anxious to talk to the man who claimed to know where Ezra was.
The two men hurried into the jail and upon entering were relieved to find Buck and JD waiting for them. Buck took one look at the cold gleam in the gunslinger's eyes, tossed him the jail keys and pointed to one of the cells. They watched as he caught the keys and stalked over to the cell holding their prisoner all in one fluid motion. His eyes locked onto those of the man sitting nervously on the bunk and never left them as he unlocked the door and entered the cell.
"Where is he?!" Chris growled as he grabbed the man by the coat, jerked him up off the bunk and slammed him into the wall. Randall was so shaken by the gunslinger's hate-filled eyes staring into his that all he could do was whimper in response to his question. "I said... where... the hell... is he?!"
Randall stifled a groan as he was pulled away from the wall, dragged around and slammed up against the bars of the cell. "Wait... please... I just..."
Vin rushed in to grab his friend's arm just in time to prevent him from driving his fist into the face of the helpless man he had pinned against the bars.
"Chris, don't... we need him to lead us to Ezra." The tracker spoke softly as he held on to his friend's arm, trying to diffuse some of his anger. "Let him go, pard."
Chris resisted for several minutes but finally allowed Vin to pull him off of the prisoner.
Vin kept his hold on the gunslinger's arm as he glanced at Randall. "You better answer 'im ... I can't keep 'im off a' ya' forever."
Randall swallowed a few times and never taking his eyes off of Chris, opened his mouth to speak. But just as he started to tell him the directions to the cabin, the door to the jail slammed open and Josiah and Nathan rushed in accompanied by a cold blast of wind-driven snow. Forcing the door closed behind them, they turned and stared at the others expectantly.
Buck waved his hand at the terrified man still pressed against the bars and told the newest arrivals, "this piece of low life scum was just about to tell us where Ezra is. And I figure he better hurry before Chris rips his heart out."
Randall, after sneaking a quick look at the other lawmen in the room, looked back at the man still hovering over him and began to speak. He haltingly told them of his part in their friend's kidnaping and where they'd taken him, explaining quickly how he'd felt sorry for the gambler after what Parker had done to him and how he'd promised Mr. Standish he'd get help for him. "I didn't know what kind of a man Parker was... I swear. I thought he was just going to rough the guy up a little. I didn't know he was going to... well... torture him."
"What all'd this Parker do to Ezra?" Nathan demanded, wanting to know just what kind of injuries he was going to be dealing with.
The others paled as Randall started listing off the various beatings, the blindfold, the salt water... right down to describing the screams he'd heard when he'd first arrived at the cabin. And then he repeated what Parker had had him say to add to the gambler's psychological beating.
With every word the prisoner spoke, Vin could sense Chris' anger growing until finally... after hearing how Ezra's faith in his friends had been totally destroyed... he'd lunged at the man, desperately trying to get his hands around his throat. Buck rushed into the cell to help Vin pull the crazed gunslinger off of Randall, talking constantly to him as they moved him away from the terrified man.
"Chris... stop... think about this..." Buck could see he was listening so he continued. "We can find Ezra a whole lot quicker if we take this bastard with us. Ezra needs us... and he needs us fast... let's quit wastin' time here and get movin'."
Chris took a deep breath and got control of himself. "All right... we're gonna need fresh horses. Josiah, you and JD go to the livery and tell Sam what you need and why... saddle them up and get back here as fast as you can. Buck... you run over to the General store and get some supplies. Food... extra blankets... anything you can think of we might need." After the three men had left, he turned to the healer. " Nathan... think we should take a wagon?"
Nathan looked at Randall and asked, "How bad is he hurt?"
The frightened man glanced nervously at Chris and then spoke. "Pretty bad. He's got a knife wound in his upper arm that's badly infected, cuts and bruises all over his body, possibly a concussion... he was pretty out of it, but that could have been because of the fever. And I'm pretty sure his left ankle is broken, he seemed to be in a lot of pain when he stood on it. I tried to explain to him that I lied about what you all had said... but I'm pretty sure he couldn't understand what I was saying... and besides, Parker came back in before I could finish."
Vin put his hand on Chris's arm as he saw his face tighten in anger again with each new injury that Randall listed. The gunslinger glanced at Vin and then turned back to Nathan, waiting to hear what he thought they should do.
"Well, it sure would be a lot easier on him travelin' in a wagon, but I doubt we'd be able to make very good time tryin' to get it through all this snow. And if this wind and snow keep blowin', we're probably gonna have to jist stay there with 'im until it eases up. He's not gonna be up to no hard ridin'." Nathan looked at Vin who nodded his head in agreement and then after another quick glance at Chris, hurried out to gather together what he thought he'd need to care for the injured gambler.
"He's right, Chris. Ezra's not gonna be able to take this cold if he's in as bad a shape as 'he' claims," Vin said, nodding at Randall. "Best thing for Ezra would be to stay there with 'im and keep him warm and dry til the weather breaks."
Chris dreaded the idea of forcing Ezra to stay any longer than he had to in that hell hole after what he'd been through there, but he understood the necessity for it. He just hoped and prayed Ezra would.
Ezra tried to sit up, but the waves of pain that crashed over him forced him back to the floor. He tried to ignore it but it seemed to be coming at him from everywhere... every single part of his body hurt. Tears trickled down his face as his tired mind urged him to just give up... just let Parker find him and finish him off... then the pain and torment would finally stop. But with that thought came the voices again... 'sniveling coward'... 'worthless'... the mocking laughter of his so-called friends tore through his mind. And then it faded as his mother's voice added to his pain ... 'nobody wants you... nobody loves you'. Which was quickly followed by Parker telling him he was going to die alone. Of course he would die alone... he'd been alone his whole life. 'Are you ready to die now, little man?' Ezra gasped as those words tore through his mind and he was hit with the realization that he didn't want to die yet. He didn't want to give all those hated voices tumbling through his head the satisfaction of seeing him give up.
With a new determination to live driving him, he ignored the screams of pain from his body and pressing himself against the wall, managed to force himself into a sitting position. He let his gaze travel around the room as he sat trying to get control of the pain again before attempting to stand. His vision was still a little blurry and the sweat still dripped down his face burning his eyes, but he could see well enough to make out the details of the cabin's layout. Ezra sighed in relief when he spotted the door leading outside and found it to be only a few yards away... it wouldn't be easy but he had to try for it. Steeling himself against the excruciating pain he knew was coming, he tucked his good leg under him and leaning heavily against the wall, slowly pushed himself up... careful to keep as much weight as possible off his injured ankle. The room spun as his battered body protested every move he made and he had to close his eyes to keep from passing out again. The fever still burning through his body and the fact that he'd eaten almost nothing in four days was making it hard for him to focus his mind, but the thought of more torture and pain if Parker found him still here and without the blindfold was enough to help him concentrate.
As the spinning stopped, Ezra opened his eyes slowly and found himself staring at the simple wooden chair sitting in the middle of the room. His breathing quickened as he realized that that chair was where he'd endured most of his torture... where Parker's depraved game of Russian roulette had taken place. The sound of those five terrifying clicks echoed through his mind, paralyzing him for a moment until finally he was able to wrench his gaze away. His eyes settled on the table beside it and his heart almost stopped as he saw the gun lying there. The gambler stared at it... remembering again the five clicks... thinking of the bullet that must still be in there. He looked down at the leather cuffs pinning his arms to his waist and flexed his wrists... testing to see how far he could move his hands. He groaned as the movement reawakened the pain in his arm and he knew he'd have to use his left hand... his right would never support the weight of the gun now. He'd never be able to get any kind of accurate shot off at this angle, but he might at least wound the bastard and slow him down. Ezra raised his head and had to close his eyes as the darkness threatened to close in around him again. After a few deep breaths the feeling faded and after listening to make sure Parker was still wielding the axe, he made his slow painful way over to the table.
Ezra's hand shook as he carefully maneuvered the gun around on the table so he could pick it up. He had to get it just right because once it was in his hand he wouldn't be able to adjust his grip on it. Blinking rapidly, he tried to clear the sweat from his eyes wishing for the hundredth time that his hands were loose so he could rub them. They still ached from being covered for so long and it was hard to focus on one object for any length of time without them getting blurry. He finally got the gun the way he wanted it and lifted it off the table, carefully slipping his finger over the trigger. Ezra looked down at the gun in his hand and realized that it gave him a small feeling of control back, that is until a horrifying thought occurred to him... what if there was no bullet in the gun? What if Parker had just faked the whole Russian roulette scenario and the gun had actually been empty the whole time? Ezra's hand began to shake uncontrollably as he stared at the weapon... the fear trying to invade his mind once more. He closed his eyes and ordered himself to stop thinking that way... after all, it didn't really matter... it was the only chance he had and he had to take it.
Opening his eyes again and taking a deep breath he moved away from the table and began limping painfully toward the door. The pains shooting through his ankle were beginning to make him sick to his stomach, but he fought the feeling and kept moving. Ezra finally reached the door and leaned against it weakly... resting his good leg for a minute which was shaking from the strain of supporting most of his weight. He stared down at the doorknob... he wanted to get out of the cabin more than anything in this world but his fear of Parker and what he was going to do to him if he caught him made it almost impossible to reach his hand out and open the door. 'Come on, Standish... it's your only chance... no one's going to help you. You're on your own again... same as always'. Ezra took a few quick breaths to steady himself and slowly opened the door a crack and listened. He could tell from the sounds of the chopping that Parker was on the opposite side of the cabin, so he swung the door open wider and cautiously moved out onto the porch.
The storm had worsened considerably and Chris and the others were having a hard time seeing where they were going.
Vin leaned in close to Chris so he could be heard over the wind. "We can't keep goin' in this! We better hole up in those woods over there until this wind dies down!"
"No way! Ezra's waited long enough for us to come after him... I'll be damned if we'll stop now when we're so close!" Chris tried to keep riding but Vin grabbed his arm and forced him to stop.
"We ain't gonna do Ezra no good if we lose our way in this storm and have t' backtrack to find 'im! I can't see the trail anymore and Randall ain't got a clue where we are now!" Vin wouldn't let go of Chris and was urging him toward the trees.
"Come on, Chris... Vin's right... we're not gonna be able to help Ezra if we can't find him! Let's wait a little while and see if this storm eases up... and if it don't... then we'll try and go on!" Buck was relieved to see Chris angrily turn his horse and head into the shelter of the trees. He knew how much the gunfighter hated this delay... hell, they all did... but they didn't have any choice. He just hoped that Ezra could outlast the storm and hold on til they got there.