Setting: Old West
Rating: PF — Profanity and AC — Adult Content
This is the second story set in the Hope Ranch AU (the first is A Shining Place Called Hope) Winnie, dear, I hope you salivate...
IMPORTANT AUTHOR"S NOTE: This was written in a bit of a hurry for a specific reason, no time for beta work or many edits, so read with kind eyes!.
Vin's heart was pumping so hard he felt it coming right through his shirt. He didn't care about his pain or exhaustion. He put himself in a place beyond that. He felt a surge of heat in his blood and eyed the desert. He felt Chris stronger now than he had before and was sure his best friend was still alive. His fingers itched to carve the heart out of the sick animal that was hunting Larabee. A short time later, Buck's alerted call brought his horse up. He turned back and saw the mustached man pointing to the east.
"There's somebody out there," Buck called out, riding ahead.
"CHRIS!" VIn's hope went airborne as they approached the body lying in the sand. Buck was already off his horse and checking the man for signs of life.
"He's alive," Buck said, from where he was kneeling beside a young man with dark hair. "This has to be the other guy they said Santiago was huntin' with Chris." He used his knee to support the man's upper body and waited for Ezra to wet a handkerchief. A few moments of water on the burned skin brought a moan.
"Easy, my friend," Ezra soothed when two slits appeared where eyes should be. "We are friends of Chris Larabee. "
"I got some water, but don't gulp it," Buck warned, tipping the canteen to the parched and cracked lips that were caked with dried blood. "Hey, Vin, this guy needs Nathan, he's in a bad way."
Greg almost choked at the name that hit his ears. Had he heard the man holding him correctly? His worn eyes went to a young man with long hair and compelling eyes. He reached a trembling hand out and pulled his starving lips from the water.
"Tan..ner..." he gasped, his voice weak.
Curious, Vin dropped down and took the weak hand fumbled and hit his shirt. "It's okay, now..."
"...no... no..." Greg shook his head. "He said you'd... come... he... said... Chris... said... Vin... would come... Tanner... find... him..."
"Do ya know where he is?" VIn pressed, his eyes bright with hope.
"Luis... knows... Santiago... took him... away... this... morning..." His anger flared again and he made a weak fist. "...he and Luis... mean... bastards... tortured us... hurt Chris... laughed..." He shook his head sadly. "I tried... almost... got him ... to... border... so... close..."
"Ya had his back," Vin guessed, gently putting the weak hand down. "I'm grateful. We'll find him."
"I'll take him back," Ezra offered. "And catch up to you."
JD wasn't claustrophobic but the further they went into the mine, the narrower the tunnel got. He would be glad when they exited this place. He wasn't sure how Josiah was tolerating the close walls. His broad shoulders were scraping the edges. Then he tipped his face and felt air, fresh air.
"Hey... there's an opening..." Dunne announced.
"The Lord provides," Josiah answered, climbing through a pile of broken boards. He saw the fresh boot tracks and waited for JD to catch up. "Somebody came through here."
Quietly, they crept through the sparse wooded area until it bellied out into the desert. There was a man ahead on foot, a Mexican wearing garb like the other quards. Josiah jerked his head and grabbed JD, tugging him down behind some rocks. He indicated for the younger man to remain silent, then he called out in Spanish, making sure to use Luis's name.
"Hey..." JD whispered, "he's coming back."
"Course he is, he's dumb," Josiah replied, eyeing the scraggly rocks. "You keep your head down, he's armed. I'm gonna wait until he passes and jump."
JD crept backwards until he couldn't move, his face pressed to the dirt. He heard the heavy breathing and waited. The shadow appeared first, covering the ground in front of him. He heard the other man's cry of surprise and then the sound of bodies hitting the ground.
"JD?" JOsiah called out, struggling with Luis. There was no movement and he frowned. "JD GET OUT HERE!"
"Okay... sorry... you said to stay down..."
"Go back through the mine and get the horses, I'll wait here." Sanchez directed. He slammed the guard's head hard against the ground to stop his squirming. He then took his gun and two knives from the Mexican's waistband.
"I won't be long," JD vowed, heading back to the broken boarded entry.
"You best listen up," Sanchez warned, tying Luis's hands behind his back and hauling him to his feet. "The Lord didn't see fit to gift me with a slow temper. So I'm only gonna ask you once. Where is Chris Larabee?" He took his gun out to impress the point.
"He is dead," Luis answered.
"Now if there is one thing I hate worse that a cheater, is a liar." Josiah shot the guard's right foot, causing him to stumble and fall. He towered over him, taking aim at the other foot. "Let's try this again, shall we? Where did Santiago take him?"
Luis narrowed his eyes in contempt. "By now, he will be praying to die."
"Then I hope you're a religious man," Josiah snapped, hauling him back up by the collar. "Because if he's not alive when we find him, you're gonna be praying you were dead."
Dunne came around the bend riding one horse and holding the reins of two more. Josiah dumped Luis face down over one saddle, securing him. Then he climbed on the other horse.
"They're not far," JD stated. They hadn't rode very far when they passed Ezra riding slowly with a man tied to his chest. "Who's that?"
"I believe his name is Wilson, he was taken with Chris on the bloodhunt. He relayed to us that he is being held by Santiago and Luis knows where that would be." Standish cocked his head and eyed the guard unside down over a horse. "Can I presume?"
"You can," Josiah replied. "Get a good look, because when Vin gets through carving him up, he won't look this pretty."
"They're not far," Standish added, "I'll return as soon as I leave him with Nathan."
Buck and Vin had barely gotten underway when they heard hooves behind them. Buck turned and halted when he saw Josiah approaching. By the time the preacher joined them, Vin was already off his horse.
"I know you boys would hate to miss the party," Josiah noted, getting off his horse. He dumped the tied man onto the sand and kicked him in the side hard. "WAKE UP!" He squatted down, slapping his face hard enough to draw blood and getting his eyes to open. "It's rude not to be introduced and I do hate ill manners. Tell my friends your name." He tossed the gun and knives by Vin's boots. "He had these on him."
Vin's hair stood on end and he stood on the other side of Josiah, whipping his blade out. He knew before the quivering man's lips opened who this was. But he wanted to hear it, so he drew out his knife and cut the man's shirt from the waist up, making sure the blade caught a good deal of skin. The cry of protest only made him more furious. He rolled him over and cut his hands free. Before Luis or any of the others could react, Vin grabbed his wrists, spun the body flat on his back, then shoved the hands over Luis's head, putting one over the other and shoving one of the knives hard through them both, pinning the screaming man into the ground.
JD gasped and backed up, his stomach doing flips. He wasn't sure he wanted to see what actions would follow but didn't have any choice. He shifted his body so that VIn's back blocked the guard's body.
"I didn't hear ya!" Tanner barked, poising the blade at the panting man's collarbone.
"Go... to... hell... Gringo... Dog..." Luis managed,
"Now that's not very friendly," Buck growled, aiming his gun at the man's kneecap. "Answer the man."
"...Presidente Grant..." he spit at the long haired man, hitting his face. He continued to struggle, using his legs to kick out at his attackers
"Cut that out!" Buck warned, shooting the guard's right leg. "You're distracting Vin."
Vin calmly wiped the spit from his face and pushed the man's shirt away, revealing his chest. He put the knife down and studied the muscles and skin, probing the area with his fingers. Twice he went back to the soft side of his belly just below his belly button.
"What... are... you... doing..."
"Reckon he ate breakfast," Vin complained, eyeing Josiah and shaking his head "Sure does make a bigger mess, the foods still goin' through his innerds." He knelt over the man's lower legs and positioned himself, then picked up the knife.
"...no... no..." Luis realized what was going to happen. The blade went in swift, and with a flick of the wrist, he felt it penetrate. But he knew it wasn't deep and wondered why.
"I can make it last fer hours," Vin predicted, twisting the knife. He glared down at the man. "Say it."
"...Luis..."
Vin eased the pressure on the blade and felt the man sag. "Where's Chris Larabee?"
"...I... do... not... know...." He lied and the blade moved upwards, filling him with an agonizing pain so much so that he cried out and twisted his body.
JD was horrified and backpedalled, dropping to his knees and throwing up. He couldn't believe this was the same man he called his friend. He knew Vin lived a wild life and a dangerous one, but never suspected he had a side this dark. It chilled him to the bone.
"Larabee," Vin repeated calmly.
"...I cannot... the Patron will... kill... me..." Luis was more than a bit unnerved by the ice in the blue eyes.
"Mister, you can't be that dumb," Buck scoffed, pushing his boot hard on the bloody leg wound. "Where is he?"
"...adobe... not far... a few miles... or so... ahead..."
"Now that weren't so bad." Vin thought of the living hell this animal put Chris through and very slowly moved the blade up and to the left, exposing the pink intestines. His face not flinching at the agonizing screams or the foamy blood that spilled from the agonized lips. He remained in place until Luis went limp. He wiped his blade clean on the guard's pants, got up, eyeing the vultures circling. "Enjoy yer lunch."
Chris was delirious again. His mind wandered far from the sand and sun burning his skin to a beautiful blue lake. It was a glorious summer morning, full of the scent of wildflowers on the breeze. He watched as his new bride bathed in the water, the chemise clinging to every beautiful curve. Her teasing smile hinted for an invite. Then she slowly took the wet straps off of each shoulder. He shed his clothes and joined her there, molding himself to her and marveling and the power of love.
"Sara..."
A shadow fell over him and the dream ended, a blurry face above laughed down at him. He wanted to die, for the agony he was enduring was unbearable. There were bleeding cuts on both sides of his body and burns on his feet and chest. The head wound was causing unrelenting pain that felt as if his skull was being crushed.
"I think Senor Dog, you will not last for supper, so perhaps, it will be a midday feast, no?" Santiago eyed the oozing leg wound. "Beg!" He demanded.
"...go... to... hell..." Chris croaked through split and bleeding lips.
The bullet graze had been deep and the dirty bandage covered a red, swollen inflamation. Santiago mercilessly ripped the bandages off, taking skin with it and drinking in the aborted cry of pain. He eyed the green and yellow muck and calmly drew his knife out.
"Pedro, you will ready the dogs," he ordered, running the blade over the infection and flicking off the puss and bloody mess. Then he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and paused, readying himself for the scream that would follow.
The bone-chilling scream halted every rider but one. Vin raced ahead using Larabee's agonizing voice as his call to arms. He paused at the top of a hill which overlooked the adobe. Far below in the yard outside, he saw Santiago poised over the staked out missing man. Vin slid off his horse, took rifle out and laid on his belly. He took out his spyglass and observed. If he hadn't seen Chris's blood soaked chest rising and falling, he would have thought him dead. The rage he felt inside was like nothing he'd ever encountered before. He heard the other horses stop and his friends silently joined him. He handed the spyglass back and picked up his rifle.
"Holy Mother of God," Josiah whispered, looking through the spyglass before handing it to Buck.
"He's gonna let those dogs loose," Buck stated, watching the guard unlocking a chain that held three viscious dogs in place. "They'll tear Chris apart."
"Ya take out the dogs and the guard." Vin adjusted his site and eased his finger onto the trigger. "That Mexican maggot-faced bastard is mine."
"Vin, we're too far away. He's too close to Chris, you'll never hit him!" Josiah's jaw dropped as his words fell on deaf ears. He and Buck took aim and waited for the sharpshooter's signal. Once the shaggy head dipped, they took action.
Vin calmly pulled the trigger.
The shot jolted the semi-conscious man and his eyes shot open. For a moment, he wondered why he didn't feel the bullet. Was he in too much pain already? Why wasn't he dead? His feverish mind was trying hard to wade through what felt like hot mud inside his head for an answer. He saw the shock on Santiago's face when most of his right hand was blown off. The startled Mexican rose up just in time to have a second shot shatter his left knee . Chris knew as the scream of agony came from the Mexican beast, by the precision and placement who was the sharpshooter. When Santiago went down on his good knee, a third shot drove through his left elbow. The wiggling worm began to crawl, leaving a trail of blood.
Chris's heart began to beat quickly and he felt his pulse quicken. There was only one man who could shoot like that. He closed his eyes and his shallow breath came in heaving pants. The pain was all encompassing now, but he held on fast to the ebbing 9strength in his tortured body. One word formed in his mind. Not just any word, a name. A name that meant salvation.
"Vin..." His prayer went airborne over his cracked and bloody lips.
He drifted for a moment until he heard the thundering hooves. Boots appeared in his side vision and the tension from the ropes tying his arms and legs disappered. He heard the string of curses as the ropes were angrily taken from his bloodied ankles and wrists. He sighed hard when a trembling, calloused hand gently laid across his neck.
Vin left Chris long enough to kick Santiago hard in the face. He kept kicking until Chris's chief tormentor stopped moving. His pent up rage was coming out in short, shifled pants and he curled his fists to quell the intense fire shooting through him. Once he looked hard at Chris, he felt as if the discarded knife was stuck in his gut. That the man was still alive was nothing short of a miracle and a testament to his heart. He didn't hesitate, he dropped down and took the salvation that was calling him hard.
Chris allowed a gasp from deep within when strong arms lifted him and his head flopped just inside a hide coat against a familiar blue shirt. The long hair fell on his face and tickled his nose. He moved his head painfully, lifting one bloody paw up to touch the grubby, bearded face. The haunted blue eyes were far too hollow and lost. He'd been on the hunt for awhile. Vin had been hunting for him and it was clear even to his fevered eyes that Vin's soul was hurting. Their eyes locked then and and felt every bit of frustration, rage, anger and fear that was reflected there.
"...took you... so... long..."
"Ya look like shit, cowboy," Vin rasped, swallowing hard.
"Fuck you... Tan...ner..."
Vin sighed hard, dropping his own head when Chris flopped against him, finally surrendering to the agony. He held on fast, his trembling body trying to come to terms with the gravity of the situation. This was real. Chris was alive. Chris was alive. The tortured, bloody body in his arms was flesh and blood. The cold that had enveloped him so fiercly since Chris went missing was ebbing. That empty hole inside of him wasn't empty anymore. He tried to shift a bit, to relieve the pain in his back. Then he felt a stab of guilt, eyeing the incredible amount of barbaric torture his best friend had endured. He was numb all over; a part of him seemed detached. He couldn't believe this was actually happening.
Chris let the warm breath cascade over him, he inhaled deeply, letting it invade his tortured soul and become his healing balm. It amazed him that death's shadow that only moments before had been hovering nearby was now gone. He knew he would survive, no matter how long the road back was.
"We need to get him out of the sun." JD went to move towards Chris and Buck's arm hit his chest halting his progress. "What?"
"Show some respect," Josiah warned.
"Respect?" JD queried, trying to move Buck's arm. "He could die, you're all just standing here."
"He's not gonna die, JD," Buck predicted in a tight voice. He'd been moved by the tender scene before him. "Vin needs this as much as Chris does."
"Check the house, JD," Sanchez suggested. "Chris needs shelter. We can tend to him here. Go on now."
Buck and Josiah gave Vin a few more moments, then walked over. Buck winced when he saw the shocked look on Vin's face. He saw the tracker's arms trembling as they held Chris. He put both his own hands on Vin's shoulders and gave a solid tug, then squatted down, shoved his hat back and playfully tapped Chris's face.
"You're just aimin' to put me in an early grave, aren't you?" He teased. He felt his Larabee's free hand flopping against his leg and grabbed it.
Chris's eyes were only slits, bright with fever and shimmering in pain, but they fought hard to find Buck's. When the blurry pinkness cleared up, he saw the worry etched clearly on his oldest friend's face.
"...knew you'd come..." Larabee rasped, watching Buck swallow hard. "..thanks... Bucko..."
The use of his nickname, one used by Larabee alone was something that always touched him deeply. This time it hit hard, burying deep within. He didn't have any words to reply, they died in his tight throat. Just holding the weak hand and seeing those pale eyes was reward enough.
"Buck," Josiah said, handing a canteen down.
"No," Vin decided, shaking his head. "It'll be t'much fer 'im. Feel like a knife goin' through his gut. Git a rag..." He directed and waited until Buck pulled off his kerchief. "Soak it and give it over."
"Okay." Buck did as ordered, realizing Vin knew a lot more about this than he did. He watched as Vin wrapped the wet cloth around his fingers and moved them over Chris's parched lips. The mouth opened and the wet clothed fingers went inside.
"Easy now..." Vin gently encouraged, waiting a few moments and withdrawing. Twice more the effort was repeated, before Vin allowed the canteen. "Chris, jest take a little bit, ya hear? It's gonna hurt some."
Chris nodded and took a tiny sip, then another and another. Each time totally allowing his best friend to decide when the canteen was pulled back. He collapsed against Vin then, just as JD returned
"It's a lot cooler in there, must be the thick walls. It's real clean, has a good bed and lots of food and stuff." Dunne nodded to Chris who managed to nod back at him.
"...'ey sheriff..." Larabee slurred, even in his fevered haze he noticed JD looked abnormally young and more than a bit shaken.
Chris felt himself being lifted and wiggled weakly until he saw Vin's face. He directed his intent and the solid blue eyes that were his beacon. "...take... me... home..."
"I don't think so, Chris," Josiah answered.
"...far..." Chris managed, feeling himself fading. He kept his eyes on Vin's.
"A couple hours t'Grovers Pass." Vin shifted in the sand. He was totally undone by the pale eyes and knew just how much Chris needed to feel safe again.
"...make it..." the injured blond vowed.
Vin thought for a moment, gaining some inner strength from the determination he saw in Larabee's eyes. They could clean him up and patch him up here, update Nathan and have him ride with the others to Grovers Pass. Plus the longer they remained here, the bigger chance of the army or a rebel faction catching them. "Ya better," Vin shot back. "Ya up and die on me now, I'll track yer sorry hide to hell and haul ya back."
"...clean... up... soap... sew... cover... get... home... home..."
"Them's eight words," Tanner chuckled at the aborted orders. "Yer over yer three a day limit."
"Okay, Chris," Buck noted, "But's it's gonna be a rough ride, you're gonna feel it."
"...compared... to... hell..." Chris coughed, crying out at it felt like a knife stabbed his chest.
"Sooner we git 'im cleaned up, the better," Vin said. "That army could come anytime and we'll be vulture food."
"Come on," Josiah agreed, lifting Chris with Buck's assistance.
Vin watched them move for the adobe and finally let his breath out. He picked up one of the bloody ropes that had bound Larabee's wrists. He rubbed his thumb over the encrusted blood and felt that cold fear nipping at him. What if they hadn't been in time? As he stood up, he hissed and buckled his back. He remained bent over, holding onto his knees. His mind flashed to the rolling and dodging he'd done at the mine entrance when the guards began to shoot. He must have pulled something. . He remained bent over, breathing hard for several moments. Then he spotted Santiago and slowly eased his body up. The intense fiery pain in his back was forgotten; replaced by an icy resolve. He had unfinished business.
As Dunne suggested, the adobe was cool inside and the relief felt was immediate. Josiah and Buck laid Chris down in the bedroom on a large bed. JD was pumping water from a well outside the back door and filling buckets,basins and the large sink inside the adobe. Josiah found a shelf in the back room with white cotten sheets. He began cutting through them, getting large pieces to cover the many wounds and long strips to bind. He also found some soap and a pile of clean towels. The trio worked in unison, cleaning the grime and blood away. Larabee remained limp and unaware, only the occasional moan slipped out of his cracked lips.
"I'll ride back and get Nathan," Josiah said, "I can take that wagon back to Grovers Pass. I'll meet you there."
"Okay, kid you're with him," Buck suggested, gently cleaning the now unconscious man's wrists.
"He's not gonna die, is he?"
Josiah never heard JD sound so young and the doe-eyes the youth held on Larabee matched that. He moved over and gave the shoulder a pat. "The Lord's holdin' court on that, JD, but I do believe Brother Chris will beat this. He's stronger than most."
"It looks worse than it is," Buck stated, holding Chris up so Josiah could wrap a loose bandage around his side. Once that was done, he eased him down again. "He's weak and he's got a helluva fight with the fever, but he'll pull through."
"Will Vin?" Josiah asked, not sure of where the tracker had gone. It was clear he was shaken to the core by finding Chris and maybe needed a moment to regroup. "He's not outside."
"This hit him hard," Buck said, wringing out a soapy cloth and dabbing at a nasty wound on Chris's leg. "Best t'leave him be for now, he's shook up and not used to havin' a lot of eyes lookin' at him."
"Come on, son, sooner we get moving, the sooner we'll be over the border." Sanchez said, pausing long enough to pull a sheet up to Chris's waist. "I'll wire Orrin and update him."
"Good enough, preacher," Buck answered.
When the pair rode away, Buck finally took time to breathe. He turned back towards the bed, eyeing the battered body. Shaking his head, he moved closer, pulling up a chair. He lifted the wet head to give the fevered man a drink and that suggestion was met by Larabee resolve. Chris's brow furrowed and his wet head began to twist, his lips curling into a snarl .
"...kill you... sick... son... of... a... bitch..."
"That's it, pard," Buck issued softy, grabbing a wayward fist. "Use that fire you got and fight!"
Ezra was keeping guard atop the guard's quarters. The roof provided an excellent view of both roads that led to the mine. So far, the morning air was quiet, but he didn't relax his grip on the rifle he held. He hoped that Chris Larabee was alive.
Nathan eyed the large room with approval. Most of the men were cleaning themselves and changing into new clothes. They'd eaten and some were resting. His main focus was tending to Greg Wilson. From what he'd been told by the other prisoners, Greg had befriended Chris and tried to protect him. The young man hadn't regained consciousness yet, so it was a bit easier for Nathan to bathe and tend to his multiple wounds. Although none were serious, the leg wound was infected and was causing a fever. He'd drained it and loosely bandaged it.
A thump on the roof brought his attention from Greg to the ceiling. He turned from the bed and walked to the corner of the room, where a stairway led upwards. Ezra appeared in the doorway from above.
"Josiah and JD are riding in," Standish offered.
"Alone?" Nathan fretted. "That ain't good..."
"Would you prefer Vin and Buck to be riding abreast of them, carrying Chris's body?"
"Yuh got a point," Nate agreed, walking towards the window. Had they found Chris and he was too badly injured to be moved?
By the time Sanchez and Dunne rode up, Nathan was in the front yard. He met the preacher's gaze and didn't hide his fear.
"Chris?"
"Alive," Josiah stated, climbing down and turning to JD. "Get the wagon around here and get those men in it." He walked over to Nathan, "Buck and Vin are with Chris at this adobe a few miles from here We can't wait around for the army patrol or roaming banditos to find us."
"No, we can't." Nathan waited. "How bad's Chris?"
"Bad enough," the preacher noted, handing over a crude map he'd drawn. "Fever's high, he's got a nasty head wound and a leg wound, some stab wounds, burns, cuts, bruises..." He shook his gray head. "That bastard put him through hell. Buck's waitin' on you and Ezra. Me and JD'll take them over to Grovers Pass and wire Orrin."
"Alright. Help me get Wilson in the wagon first, the others will have to sit around him. "
Twenty minutes later, the wagon left with JD riding shotgun behind it. Ezra rifled through the office and got the records he needed to show to Orrin. He packed them in his bag and climbed on his horse. Nathan had packed an extra horse with supplies and medical requirements.
"Go ahead, I'll bring the horse, " Standish offered, knowing that the healer would ride quicker without that burden. The sooner Nathan got to Chris and ministered to him, the sooner they could head back over the border.
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