Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.
Chris Larabee hated it whenever they came up empty.
The seven had been on their way home after spending three hard days following up a lead that claimed notorious outlaw Johnny Ringo was in the vicinity and emerged with nothing, leaving Chris with the impression that it had been a wild goose chase to begin with. Ringo was starting to develop mythological status as an outlaw, with every two bit hustler claiming to have worked with the stone killer at one point or another. As Ezra had so succinctly put it and had almost convinced Chris that beating the man to death might not be a bad thing, 'the Chinese whisper had left them wandering the desert seeking the Promised Land'.
Sometimes, it was worth breaking a few bones just to wipe that smirk of the gambler's face, Chris thought as they rode home.
He realised he was in a foul mood but could not help himself. Three days away from Mary made him anxious. Ever since he learnt about her pregnancy, he felt uncomfortable about leaving her for any length of time. Considering what had happened to Sarah and Adam when he had left them, Chris felt he could be forgiven for his paranoia. It would not have been so bad if they had actually manage to even sight Ringo but the information had been sparse with just enough crumbs to keep them from giving up.
"So now that you and the lovely Doctor Styles had made definitive plans to carry out your nuptials, have you any idea when exactly that will be?" Chris heard Ezra asking Vin as they took the familiar trail home, unable to deny that he was feeling better knowing Four Corners was not too far away.
"Nope." Vin shrugged, having been very close mouthed about setting a date since Alex and he had yet to come to an agreement on that point. "Just know we're gonna to do it."
"Well stay away from Inez," Buck warned. "Woman goes crazy whenever she gets a whiff of one of these things." He recalled how she had been during Chris and Mary's weddings and knew the twitching he had seen in her eyes over the last few weeks was just the first symptom of her desire to plan Alex and Vin's nuptials.
"Considering what a romantic exercise in sentiment her own ceremony was, I wonder why." Ezra looked at him sarcastically. "I mean she hardly had the wedding of her dreams now did she?"
"Yeah," Nathan chuckled. "Most of the time the bride and groom say I do and kiss. In your case, you two said the words and had a baby!"
"Adds new meaning to the term shotgun wedding." Josiah added, joining in the gentle teasing.
"That's it," Vin came to a decision after seeing what poor Buck was going through at this moment. "We're getting out of town to get hitched."
"You wish," Buck retorted, unperturbed by any of the comments made by his so called friends because he would not change a thing about how he and Inez had been joined. For both, the day they had been married had coincided with the arrival of their little girl and nothing could make either of them regret the lack of ceremony. "Ain't gonna happen."
"Why?" Vin met his gaze pointedly. "Alex said she doesn't want any fuss."
"Hah!" Buck snorted in derision. "They all say that and I can tell you now that it is the greatest lie since Ezra said he's an honest business man now."
"Hey!" Ezra exclaimed in protest. "Mr Wilmington, I take umbrage at that remark."
"Hate to admit this pard," Chris who had no wish to get involved in this debate but was forced to support Buck on this issue in case Vin embarked upon a course of action that would get him disembowelled by his lady. "But he's right. She'll want a wedding."
"See?" Buck grinned, glad to see Chris being supportive on this issue since his own nuptials had been a three ringed circus, though no one in their right mind would dare say to the gunslinger's face. "No matter what they say about not wanting a big wedding with all the trimmings, no matter how rough and tumble they are, how independent they claim to be or hell for that matter, how above all the fuss they are, every woman wants a big wedding."
"Every woman?" JD asked, looking to the faces of his older contemporaries to see if they were in agreement with Buck's statement. While JD had never brought up the subject with Casey, since they were not even engaged, let alone thinking about marriage, he could not imagine her in a white dress, flowers or a veil.
"I confer with Mr Wilmington on this my young friend." Ezra agreed. "It is a kind of disease really. This charming creature to whom you have pledged your life suddenly becomes this terrifying harpy who requires cake, place cards and bridesmaids. I've seen men fall into their web before, it is not pretty sight."
"Alex ain't like that at all." Vin said firmly, refusing to believe that his level headed, sensible doctor could be so typically feminine.
"Sure she ain't." Buck rolled his eyes in resignation.
"Whatever you say pard," Chris added, making a note to be present in order to scoop up whatever pieces of Vin were left after he made that decision known to Alex.
"We shall remind you of this conversation when you are fitted for your suit." Ezra grinned and delighted in the horrified expression on Vin's face at the concept of wearing anything other than his buckskins.
"Hopefully it will be for the wedding and not a funeral." Nathan tried to say with a straight face but couldn't quite manage it and had to turn away to keep from laughing.
"Ah Vin," Josiah smiled "So young, so much to learn."
JD could only say, "Every woman?"
Four Corners was less than an hour's ride when they came across the convoy of wagons travelling across the open spaces before the town. The procession of covered wagons rumbled through the knee length covering of dried grass turned golden from the heat of the sun and were driven by men who did not at all look like the settlers one normally associated with such journeys. The seven did not reveal themselves immediately upon sighting the group and immediately Vin was despatched to ensure the nature of these travellers before the rest of the lawmen crossed their paths.
Vin rode far enough ahead so that he could use eyeglass without being seen. It was normal practice for Chris to send him ahead, mostly because he knew better than the others, how to approach stealthily without anyone noticing him. Vin had a tendency to fade into the background and he knew how to observe without drawing attention to himself. Years of tracking buffalo had taught him that since the consequences were quite grave if those hefty creatures discovered his presence. One would not guess to look at them, but buffalo could be pretty ornery when they caught humans spying on them.
Vin did dismounted Peso before they reached the crest of the last hill they needed to cross before finding themselves on top of the convoy. He kept low as he neared the peak and dropped to his haunches, allowing the lengthy blades of grass to mask his presence as he held up the telescope and looked through it. It did not take him long following that initial observation to realise that the convoy was not at all a wagon train on its way to tame some new piece of land no one had yet to stake a claim on. The absence of women gave that away unless it was a settlement of funny cowboys, like the one Buck had the distinction of escorting, when his..her...whatever...wig had blown off in the wind.
Jokes aside, the men riding into those wagons and horses playing escort to the procession were up to serious business. They were all heavily armed, with rifles and gun belts around their waists. Vin tried to see what was in the back of those wagons but could not get a clear enough look to make a positive identification beyond the fact that they were boxes. There was some serious artillery accompanying these wagons and Vin became more and more certain that something was amiss. Deciding he had seen enough, he quickly withdrew the way he came, still maintaining his anonymity, before returning to Peso where climbed back into the saddle in order to return to Chris and report what he had observed.
Feeling that same tingling sensation he could never explain but had come to rely upon as the instinct that was almost always right about danger, Chris and the rest of the seven approached as close as they dared. It did not take long before Vin reached them and related what he had seen. Chris took a deep breath, more certain that ever that they had stumbled upon something, although he could not discern at this time whether or not that something was a danger to them or Four Corners.
"You say they're only carrying boxes?" Chris mused, trying to think what could be the point of the journey.
"Maybe they're carrying supplies." Buck pointed out, unable to dismiss the most plausible explanation.
"Carrying a lot of guns for supplies." Vin drawled because his sense of trouble was just as acute for Chris and the situation did not look right in his opinion. "That many boxes, wonder why they don't take it on the railroad."
"It could be these gentlemen prefer their cargo to remain anonymous." Ezra added.
"Could be where they're going ain't got railway lines yet." Nathan suggested. However, like the rest of his companions, he found the situation odd. "Still, we are the law in these parts, closest thing to it any way. We could search them."
"They don't look like the kind who are going to appreciate that." Vin pointed out even though he was all for Nathan's idea. He wanted to know what was in those boxes as well, not simply to satisfy his curiosity but because the men who were guarding their cargo seemed ready to kill for it. Anything that engendered that much protection could not be legal or safe for that matter.
"Well then we'll ask them real nice." Chris retorted, digging his heels into his mount and gesturing the others to follow him. As the horse galloped away towards the convoy, the rest of the seven fell behind their leader. This time, the arrival of seven men on horseback could not be masked by any trick of stealth and the moment, they crossed the height of the last hill overlooking the path being taken by the convoy, Chris knew that they were seen. However, he did not mean to get into a shooting match just yet, not until they knew what was being carried.
With a fort now established in the Territory, it was not wrong to assume that what was in those crates could be bound for the army. However, Chris knew that the army was not prone to allowing civilians to freight their supplies, particularly ones so sensitive that it would require a convoy impersonating the disarming facade of canvas covered wagons common to settlers. Judging by Vin's description, Chris very much doubted that these men were soldiers in disguise either.
When they peaked the crest of the hill, Chris knew they were being watched. In the distance, they could see the convoy come to a halt. While that in itself was nothing, Chris unfastened the flap on his holster and saw Vin checking the Winchester nestled in the makeshift holster than he had fashioned so the weapon could be worn and drawn like any handgun. The others were doing the same, aware that their progress was now being watched closely. Josiah remained impassive and without much reaction but he had pushed his dark coat behind his holster, while Nathan used one arm to remove his coat, freeing up the assortment of knives he wore on his person for use if it came down to a fight.
The convoy did not move once it sighed the strangers. They had travelled for many miles without being accosted and had to assume that this streak of isolation could not last forever. Still, every man prepared himself for a fight as the seven riders closed in on their distance. The nature of their cargo made a fire fight difficult but by the same token, they could not allow it to be discovered either. There was too much at stake to let things unravel because of this unexpected visitation.
Chris rode towards the lead wagon once they closed in on the convoy, hoping that there would be a benign reason their presence but found that he did not mind if they chose to be difficult. With being horse rancher, a husband and a father, Chris' reputation as being the original bad element was suffering a lack of credibility of late and secretly, he longed for action to convince him that he had not changed that much.
"Fan out." Chris ordered as they approached the convoy. There was probably nothing in this but if it did become ugly then it was wise to have the perimeter secured. Josiah, Buck and Ezra took off in one direction, while Vin stayed at his side with Nathan and JD heading off in the other direction. As they spread out over the flat plain, Chris saw guns peeking through the seams of the canvas tents stretched over the wagons and knew with certainty that they were not just facing a bunch of travellers but something with more sinister intent.
Chris and Vin slowed as they approached the lead wagon, their horses trotting forward at a casual pace as they reached the two men who were behind the reins. The driver was no one that Chris knew, however, he had the kind of face that faded easily into the background. Most of his face was hidden behind the tan coloured hat he was wearing but he looked like any cowhand that Chris might see in the saloon on a Saturday night. His companion however, was another thing entirely. Chris recognised him immediately and was certain the man knew who he was too. His hair was longer and certainly greyer, with a drooping moustache that did not look too different from Buck's with a goatee protruding off the edge of his chin, just as greying.
"Bellison." Chris stated.
There was no need for introductions or reminders as Bellison's intense hazel coloured eyes snapped to his face at the remark. "Lieutenant." He let the word slip out of his mouth like it was something foul that needed ejecting.
"You know him?" Vin asked Chris immediately, seeing the tightening of Chris' jaw and the anger filtering into his eyes that was unusual for Chris. Normally, in the face of the enemy, Chris was impassive, never one to show his hand until he was ready to strike For real anger to penetrate that mask of cool indifference told Vin that the situation had just moved from potential to definitive trouble.
"I know him." Chris said shortly, knowing by just the look in Bellison's face that he was up to no good and if Chris had any doubts that his desire to search the contents of those crates was unjustified, seeing Bellison here wiped all that away.
"How long has it been Lieutenant?" Bellison asked.
"Long enough." Chris replied tautly, not about to leap into the fray just yet and reminding himself he had a job to do, not embark upon any personal vendettas to which a military tribunal had already settled on his behalf. "What are you carrying Bellison?" He asked, watching the man with his predatory reflexes ready to move at a moment's notice.
"Don't see how it's any of your business, Lieutenant." Bellison used the appellation like it was a bad word.
"Me and my friends are the law in these parts." Chris answered, inwardly flinching each time Bellison called him 'Lieutenant' and was fighting the urge to put a bullet in the man's head as he had stood by and allowed Hannibal Julius to put a bullet in Chris' back so many years ago. The pain of his convalescence came back to haunt him, not to mention that terrifying moment when he had woken up and found his legs were numb. At the time, the swelling from the bullet wound pressing up against his spine had been the reason for the temporary paralysis but in the few seconds it took before that was explained to him, it was easily the most frightening seconds of Chris Larabee's entire life.
Bellison and his companion took stock of the men surrounding his convoy of wagons before turning back to Chris. "So I see and that gives you the right to search my property without my say so."
"I guess it does." Chris responded, a slow smile of pleasure at this little bit of upset for Bellison crossed his face when he spoke. "Please, give me some trouble. I wouldn't mind shooting you if I can."
Vin's eyes widened in surprise while Bellison's narrowed. Vin had never seen Chris so inflamed and wondered what on earth this man had done to the gunslinger to engender such hatred. Obviously, they must have known each other during the war since Bellison kept referring Chris as Lieutenant."
"Look," Vin spoke up since Chris was not thinking straight. "We keep the peace around here. It looks might suspicious for a convoy to be travelling through the Territory looking like settlers but ain't." He tried to be the voice of reason because he had the feeling the slightest provocation was going to trigger Chris' fierce desire to make this man pay for some past grievance.
"Ain't gonna happen." The other man barked. "You ain't got no right to search us. We ain't done nothing."
"Shut up Clancy." Bellison snapped, his gaze still fixed upon Chris and understood that this chance meeting was under the worst possible circumstances. "You ain't got no right to do this Lieutenant. You know it and I know it. You just mad because of what happened."
No sooner than those words had crossed his lips, Chris pulled out his gun and trained the barrel squarely between Bellison's eyes. "If you call me Lieutenant one more time, I'll kill you." He warned and made certain that the man knew it was no idle threat since Chris fully intended to do it if Bellison gave him cause.
Vin could see the menace in Chris' eyes and knew as well as Bellison, how close he stood on the periphery. The man swallowed anxiously and looked around himself and his convoy to take stock of the other lawmen surrounding him, as if trying to make a decision. Vin's own hand was poised over his Winchester but in truth, he was uncertain who ought to be restrained, Bellison or Chris. There was a lot of anger inside his best friend at the moment and it would take only a nudge for Chris to go over the edge. When Chris Larabee was properly inspired, he could be as mean as a rattlesnake. Cletus Fowler could attest to that.
If he were still alive.
"Alright," Bellison conceded at last. "Do what you got to."
"But...." His companion started to protest almost immediately.
"Just shut up Clancy," Bellison barked angrily. "The sooner we get this over and done with, the better it will be for us. They ain't got no reason to hold us for our cargo and they know it."
"Glad you decided to be reasonable." Chris said lowering his gun when suddenly, Bellison went for his and fired so quickly that if Chris had not ducked, the bullet would have gone through his skull. A second shot exploded from the side of the wagon, cutting through the sharpshooter's shoulder. Peso reared up in fright as the bullet whizzed past his ear and toppled Vin from the saddle. As Chris recovered from the deception, Bellison had picked up the reins and snapped them hard. The wagon bolted forward as gunfire erupted from all around them.
"Vin!" Chris shouted, looking down at the tracker who was down in the dirt, picking himself painfully from the dirt, clutching an injured shoulder.
"I'm okay!" Vin reassured him. "Go after that bastard!"
Chris did not need to be reminded twice and dug in his spurs into the side of his horse, sending the animal off into a powerful surge of acceleration as it galloped forward after the wagon that trailed a cloud of dust and dirt in its sudden departure.
Meanwhile the other wagons attempted to make the same hasty departure but Nathan and JD immediately cut them off, riding in hard and fast across the path they would have to take, with guns blazing. However, it appeared that even though their route of escape had been severed, they had no intention of allowing anyone to reach their cargo. Through a hail bullets managed to drive the duo back far enough to dismount their wagons and get into a defensive position in readiness for a fight. The wagons were soon circled in traditional formation as if they were settlers fighting off Indians or something of the like.
Nathan and JD began shooting, aiming in particular for the men hiding behind the canvas. If there was any doubt that they were ferrying something illegal, it had been more or less swept away by the ferocity of the defence being mounted against the lawmen. Nathan and JD kept on their horses, using speed to keep them from harm as they started shooting. The enemy's fire was mostly concentrated underneath the wagons. JD sent a barrage of fire at that vulnerable location and saw them rip through the bodies of the men who were shooting at them from there. A rifle barrel peeked through the seams and Nathan saw the movement of someone taking aim at the youth who had just despatched his friends.
"JD, duck!" Nathan ordered and fired at the shooter before he could fire.
JD let himself slide to one side of his saddle as he rode by the wagon and felt the bullet fly by closely enough to know that if not for Nathan's timely warning, he would have been done for.
"Thanks Nathan." He grinned, fully of cocky pride and broke off from the fight in order to reload his gun in safety as Buck had drilled into his head on so many occasions.
Nathan saw the crimson stain of blood expanding against the white canvas of the wagon covering after he had killed JD's would be killer. The silhouette of the dead body could be seen pushing up against the canvas. However, the guardians of the convoy were far from done. There were still a good number of them that were being left to the ministrations of Buck, Josiah and Ezra.
The three lawmen were carrying out the same manoeuvre, circling the tents like they were rampaging Indians. Buck for the life of him could not imagine what was so important that these men were willing to die for what was inside these crates. While it would be easier to simply yield the day and allow the search, they had opted to fight a battle where they had very little chance of winning. Buck also noticed that they were trying to draw as much of the fire away from the wagons to themselves, almost as if what was inside the crates were too precious to be damaged and had to be shielded with their bodies.
Buck saw movement through the canvas and concentrated his gunfire on that spot. His bullets tore through the canvas barrier and the splatter of red against the white made a contrasting confirmation that he had nailed his target. Although Buck could not completely see the man in the midst of his death throes, he could make out the long barrel of a shot gun as the man fell against the canvas. In his descent, he must have accidentally pulled the trigger to the weapon because the loud boom tore through the air over the sound of already deafening gunfire.
However, it was nothing in comparison to the explosion that followed.
The entire wagon was blown apart, along with anyone who might been taken refuge under it. The fireball spread outwards and consumed the horses tethered unfortunately to the wagon and forced everyone away from the heat of the blast before contracting into solid wall of flames. The terrible scream of horses in their death throes lasted only second before Buck recovered his senses enough to shoot the poor animals and end their fiery torture. The men below the wagon needed no such mercy. The explosion had more or less killed them instantly.
"Jesus Christ." Buck exclaimed, horrified by the blazing inferno before them.
"What the hell was that?" Vin who was on his horse again, rode next to Buck who had been frozen in place following the spectacle. There was debris of flaming pieces of wagon covering the immediate area, spread out in a wide radius.
"They must have dynamite in those crates!" Vin replied as he struggled to keep Peso steady, since the horses had been so spooked by the terrible sound of the explosion that they were still rather nervous and difficult to control since the impulse to bolt was overwhelming.
"Dynamite doesn't go up like that!" Buck retorted.
His belief was further aided by the fact that the explosion had more or less caused the men defending the other wagons to abandon their posts. While the lawmen's attention had been focussed on the explosion, they emerged from their hiding places, hands up and weapons dropped to the ground, deciding that cargo capable of so much destruction was not worth defending especially when one could get killed doing it.
"This ain't worth it Mister!" One of them shouted as he approached the lawmen with his hands up. "We were paid to transport this stuff, no one said anything about getting blown up sky high doing it." A short, rotund looking man with a mouth full of rotten teeth said as he kept his hands where they could be seen.
"What's the cargo?" Vin asked, glad the fighting was over because his shoulder throbbed from where he had fallen. The bullet that had grazed its shoulder had done very little damage thanks to the buckskin jacket he wore. The fall had caused him more pain the bullet.
"Don't know Mister," the man answered truthfully, anxiously keeping an eye on all the guns aimed at him the rest of his companions. "We was paid real well but we weren't told where it was going or why. We were only supposed to follow Bellison to the drop off."
"Alright," Vin nodded, deciding that there was enough fear in that face to warrant the information he was volunteering to be the truth. "Brother Josiah, Nate, JD, you want to round these boys up, while me and Buck take look see?" Vin asked as he nudged Peso forward to one of the intact and abandoned wagons.
"Always happy to oblige," Josiah tipped his hat towards the youthful tracker and reached for the rope hanging form his saddle. He dismounted a moment later and approached the men while JD and Nathan kept their guns trained on anyone of the men who decided to have a change of heart regarding the terms of their surrender.
"Where's Chris?" Buck inquired as he and Vin trotted toward the nearest wagon.
"He went after that the guy in front. Seems Chris knew him." Vin replied. "Though I can't say I've ever seen Chris so fired up to shoot someone, except maybe Fowler and Ella."
"Well that ain't saying much," Buck admitted having known Chris in the days before the seven and Mary. After Sarah and Adam had died, Chris's temper had a hair trigger that required little to set the gunslinger off on one of his rampages.
"No, this was kind of personal." Vin replied, understanding what Buck was talking about since they were all privy to the infamous Larabee moods.
"Who was he?" Buck asked, feeling his curiosity piqued.
"I think he said his name was Bellison."
Buck turned to Vin sharply. "Bellison?" He demanded. "Are you sure he said Bellison?"
Realising that Buck knew who this person was as well, Vin nodded quickly. "Yeah, that's what Chris called him. He kept calling Chris, Lieutenant."
"Shit!" Buck swore under his breath, very troubled by this. "I hope Chris doesn't kill him."
Conversation was suspended for the moment as they climbed into the back of the wagon and spied the crates these men had been willing to defend so fiercely until that tremendous explosion had taught them otherwise. All boxes were nailed shut as the two men examined them closely and discovered that the wagon space was almost filled with their volume. Finally, Buck found a crowbar and prised the wooden lid off since Vin was in no shape to do so with his injured shoulder.
The lid came off easily and Buck realised that though they were nailed shut, the nails used to hold the lid close were not meant to secure with any real strength. Whoever had locked up the contents of these boxes had wanted to ensure that it would not require much effort to remove them from inside once they had arrived at their destination. Inside the crates were tall jars, sealed at the top with a clear fluid. For a minute neither knew what they were looking at until they made the connection to the explosion.
"Oh shit." Buck whispered and immediately pushed himself away from the crates, amazed that they had not blown themselves to kingdom come already after all the shooting and gunplay that had been going on during the last half hour.
"Yeah." Vin nodded in agreement and then came to another startling realisation when he remembered Chris. "Christ!" He swore loudly and quickly scrambled out of the back tray, wincing at the pain that snaked up his injured arm because of his exertions.
"Hey watch it!" Buck hissed at the tracker for making the wagon bounce a little bit from his sudden movement during his departure. Buck himself took as much care as he hurried out of the wagon, not prepared to die in such a dramatic fashion, at least not for another thirty to forty years at least. "I ain't ready to die yet!" He cursed as he followed Vin out of the wagon. The tracker did not waste any time as he hurried to his horse and mounted Peso, ignoring the injury to his shoulder as he rode towards the direction that he had last seen Chris in the gunslinger's relentless pursuit of the man called Bellison.
Chris fired again.
The hired gun at the back of the wagon was doing his absolute best to ensure that Chris did not close the distance that separated the wagon from his black gelding. The wagon thundered forward, trying desperately to outrun Chris even though it was a futile effort With less of load to carry and not required to run in tandem as the horses yoked to the wagon was required to do, the gelding narrowed the gap easily. Chris kept his head down as he fired, making each bullet count and forcing the shootist trying to kill him, further into behind the obscurity of the canvas. The more he pushed the man back, the quicker he was able to bring himself towards the tray's edge. Chris paid little attention to where they were going, aware only that Bellison was on the wagon and had tried to kill him again.
He looked up during the pause in firing and saw the hired gun withdrawing further into the wagon in order to reload his rifle. Knowing that the narrow margin of time taken to reload the weapon was the opening he needed to get to the wagon, Chris pushed his horse harder, until the black gelding was galloping forward in a blur of speed. He took careful aim as he saw the man glancing up anxiously, trying to reload his shotgun before Chris closed the distance between them. There was a moment of clarity when both men met each other's eyes and one realised that it was too late. The gunslinger pulled the trigger on his peacemaker and saw his opponent stagger backwards when the bullet found its target, the enemy's gun tumbling out of his hand and bouncing out of the wagon harmlessly before disappearing behind them as the wagon and its pursuer left it behind.
The man collapsed into a heap, his blood running across the floor boards of the wagon while droplets were whisked away by the wind as the team of horses maintained their frantic speed to escape Chris. With that opposition out of the way, the distance between the two was quickly shortened and very soon Chris found himself nearing the edge of the wagon. He could see the crates sliding across the floor precariously and once again, he wondered what Bellison was so determined to hide. The gelding continued at its relentless pace forward, determined to bring his master to where Chris desired.
The gelding came up the side of the wagon and Chris jumped free of the saddle into the back tray. He landed on his knees and immediately had to leap out of the way of the bullets Bellison was firing at him from the wagon. He rolled to his feet easily and fired back. Unfortunately, his bullet did not hit Bellison but the driver. Chris felt his stomach hollow knowing he had shot a man in the back but had little time to soul search on the matter since it had been an accident and Bellison had been shooting at him. When the driver slumped over the seat, Bellison met Chris' gaze and decided that staying was not worth it, considering what they were carrying in those crates that his pursuer had no idea about.
As Chris hurried up the length of the wagon, Bellison jumped off the speeding carriage into the soft grass. The wagon continued its juggernaut pace and Chris emerged at the head of it to see Bellison being left behind as the horses kept running ahead. Looking before him, Chris saw that the wagon was nearing the edge of a ravine and knew that if he did not bring the team of horses to a halt it could end very badly for everyone concerned.
"Chris!" He suddenly heard Vin shouting as the tracker rode up fast beside the wagon, struggling to catch up.
Christ searched for the driver's reins and saw that they had slipped below the wagon and there was no way to retrieve it unless he was willing to get in between the harness of both animals and pick it up from the ground where it was dragging. The ravine was starting to loom closer in the distance and Chris knew if he did not get off this wagon soon, he would go over the edge with it. Still, he was not willing to let the horses plunge to their deaths if he could help it. Standing up, he took a step back and braced himself on the seat, even though the wagon was rocking precariously and balance was not easily maintained. Taking a deep breath, he took two quick steps forward and launched himself onto the back of one of the frantic horses.
"Chris!" Vin shouted again, having seen Chris performed that minor feat of daring. "Get off that thing!"
The horses were extremely spooked and despite Chris' best efforts to calm them down into stopping, they still continued rapidly towards the edge. He tried pulling on the bridle of the animal he had mounted in an effort to bring it to a stop but the horse was too panicked to do so. It was galloping even faster, as if its adrenaline were pumping with as much ferocity as Chris had been in his determination to get Bellison in his sights.
"Chris, you got to get off there!" Vin rode harder and faster, pushing Peso the edge of its limits as he came along side of Chris. "That wagons full of nitro!" The tracker warned.
Nitro? Chris looked over his shoulder instinctively because the word penetrated and sunk through the haze of his rage and his stubborn determination to get his hands on Bellison. It was something of a miracle that he had not been blown to pieces with the gunfire exchanged prior to his embarking on the wagon. He finally understood why Bellison had not chosen to stay and fight him since the Sargent was not someone he could call a coward, slimy as the bastard was.
"Hell!" Chris swore under his breath and saw what Vin intended as the tracker tried to narrow the space between Peso and the horse Chris was presently situated. He secured his footing to perform the manoeuvre required once Vin was in position and felt badly that the horses could not be saved. The edge was becoming dangerously close and Chris knew if he was going to make the crossing it would have to be now.
Finally Vin was in position and he extended his hands towards the gunslinger. Chris looked at head, seeing nothing but space in front of him as the wagon started to run out of ground. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed Vin's arm and jumped off the horse, barely making it onto the saddle before Vin pulled him into place. He saw the tracker wince in pain and realised that Vin had offered him his injured arm. The wagon continued on its way and both men could only watch helplessly as it reached the edge and showed no signs of stopping.
Chris and Vin watched in morbid fascination as the wagon went over the ravine and flinched at the sound of terrified horses who probably came out of their stupor long enough to realise that they had condemned themselves to die. Terrified screeches followed the horses' descent and though they did not have to see the destruction that followed, they could well imagine it. However, the cargo of nitro glycerin in the back of the wagon was not about let their passing end that simply.
The impact of all that glycerin created the explosion Vin feared. The ground fairly shook as a column of flame shot through the air that could be seen even from the edge of the cliff. Chris and Vin climbed off Peso and walked to the precipice, feeling the same curiosity at to the spectacle of destruction that was taking place at the bottom of the ravine. Nitro was deadly and unstable. That it had taken such a tremendous impact to cause the detonation that had been created upon its abrupt stop was a surprise. Vin considered it a small miracle that it had not been set off during the gunfight Chris had exchanged with the occupants of the wagon prior to its violent demise.
Beneath them, the two lawmen from Four Corners were faced with the sight of a demolished wagon and two horses consumed in a ball of fire. They could smell horse flesh burning and the stench made their stomach curl with distaste. Debris was scattered through the floor of the ravine and for a long moment, Chris could only watch the flames, mesmerised by the dance of fire as his mind thought about Bellison and their history.
"Thanks Vin." Chris said to Vin, grateful that the tracker had come after him before he had allowed his vengeance to make the fire below his funeral pyre as well.
"Don't mention it pard," Vin answered easily. "I didn't see where Bellison went though." He apologised. At the time, he had been too concerned with reaching Chris after learning what dangerous cargo the wagon had been carrying.
"That's okay," Chris frowned. "He'll turn up again."
However, Chris did not say what was truly on his mind. As far as he knew, Sargent Bellison should be languishing inside an army prison for what he had stood by and allowed done by Captain Hannibal Julius. If he was not incarcerated but free then with that realisation, Chris was faced with another unpleasant possibility.
Was Julius out there too?