TRAGIC MISTAKE

by doc

Part 9

Nathan's uncertainty about where to look for the injured tracker was decided for him by a woman's cry from the clinic. Turning, he quickly re-ascended the steps and entered to find Nettie trying to soothe the distraught Mary Travis. The older woman continued gently stroking her brow while the vivid blue eyes of the blonde woman opened wide in terror. "VIN! NO!" She cried out again in fear.
"Calm down now dear, Nettie's here, you're safe..." Nettie grasped desperately at the terrified woman's flailing arms.
"No! NO! SOMEBODY... Please.. HELP! Let go! " Mary's desperate cries caused Nettie's soft heart to ache.
"Mary! Mary honey, don't fight me, it's Nettie, you're safe here in Nathan's clinic. Calm down now dear..." soothed the older woman.
"Nettie?" gasped the terror stricken woman on a sobbing breath, "Oh, Nettie, thank God... Is he gone? Why did he attack me? I don't understand... He had a knife... He tried to.... " Mary Travis hesitated, her eyes widening as memory returned, "Vin...! " Mary paused, her face a mask of confusion, "I was struggling... Oh my head, I feel ill..." The young widow clutched both hands to her head as a blinding pain slashed through her skull, with a moan she lost consciousness.
"Nathan!" cried Nettie Wells in fear. The black healer quickly stepped up to check Mary's pulse, relieved when he found it beating strong and regular. "I think she just passed out, Miz. Nettie. The agitation of rememberin' was probably just too much for her."
"We best keep her still and just go on bathin' her face. That's real calmin' to her. I'll get some herbs together and try and brew up some soothing tea." With that, the healer went quietly out the clinic door leaving Nettie Wells alone with her fears.
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Vin Tanner managed to drag himself to Peso's stall, stopping several times to wipe away blood seeping from the laceration over his eyes that threatened to further impair his already blurred vision. The big horse snorted and stomped at the intrusion into his space and Vin mumbled calming words to the uneasy animal as he used the wooden slats of the stall to pull himself upright. By the time he was standing, his breath was coming in ragged gasps. His chest was on fire and one eye had finally swollen shut. The former bounty hunter knew saddling the troublesome horse would be impossible and silently thanked God for his time with the tribes where he'd ridden the saddleless indian ponies.
Dragging the bridle from its hook, he managed to slip the bit into the gelding's mouth, and pull the leather past his ears. Leaning heavily on Peso, the tracker grabbed a handful of mane and, by bracing his feet against the wall of the stall, pulled himself up across the broad back. Taking a deep, painful breath, Vin threw his right leg over the horse's rump, finally centering himself across the animal. The exertion almost cost the tracker his hard fought position as the world faded to black. Clutching the reigns and a handful of mane in a death grip, he leaned over the horse's neck and gave the gelding a gentle pressure with his knees.
Peso, confused by his master's strange actions but thrilled to be out of his stall without the confining tightness of the saddle, obeyed the command and trotted out of the livery into the dawning day.
As the sun began to peek down the vacant main street of the quiet town, most of the citizens of the Four Corners were just beginning to stir from their beds. A few dedicated souls who'd been unwilling to give up the previous night's excitement, were finishing the last of their drinks in the saloon. As the new day dawned, a solitary man was on the boardwalk to observe the injured horseman's escape from the quiet town. One man watched the long haired tracker desperately clinging to consciousness and the back of the big gelding with a white blaze on it's face... a newcomer to town, a man with a malevolent smile on his face.

Part 10

Nathan Jackson had just returned with water and placed the pot on the iron stove when he heard Mary stirring. Glancing quickly to see that Nettie had heard her too, he moved over to the side of the cot. The blonde woman's head was turning from side to side as she muttered unintelligibly. Both Nettie and Nathan began to speak comfortingly to her, hoping that she would drift into consciousness and be able to offer more information about the attack.
Unfortunately, Mary was once again gripped by the terror of the assault and began to cry out "NO! VIN! NO! STOP! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!", her screams reverberating around the small room.
The echoes of her cries were still ringing in Nettie and Nathan's ears when the clinic door slammed violently open.
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Chris Larabee had had enough. Enough whiskey and enough of his own disturbing thoughts. The only person he could trust to tell him what had happened in the alley was Mary Travis and he wasn't going to wait any longer for her to wake. Slamming his chair back against the wall, the formidable black clad man stood and, without a word to any of the startled regulators watching him, stalked out of the saloon.
Had the situation not been so serious, the confused rush of Buck, Josiah and J.D. trying to get to their feet to follow their leader might have been funny. For a brief moment, it appeared to the highly entertained patrons of the saloon that Buck and Josiah would get stuck in the doorway, but Josiah stepped back and with a wave of his hand, the big man indicated to Buck that he should go first.
Larabee's long, purposeful strides took him quickly to the base of the stairs leading up to Nathan's clinic. He had just placed his foot on the bottom step when he heard Mary's strangled cry. Chris Larabee took the steps three at a time and slammed through the door into the clinic.
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Nathan turned to meet the intruder, not really surprised to discover it was the gunfighter, and in a full rage by the looks of him. After the last outburst, the blond woman was drifting off into a fitful sleep, Nathan knew she desperately needed the rest to heal and he turned angrily to the irate gunman.
"Shhh, Chris! She's upset enough without you slammin' in here," reprimanded the black man. "You just be quiet now."
"I want to know how she is NOW!" demanded the forbidding man, swaying slightly from the whiskey he'd consumed.
"Now Chris, she woke up a while ago but she's still confused and a little out of her head. That's all to be expected. She's sleeping quiet now. She's got a pretty good size lump on her head; probably a concussion but I don't think anything worse. I expect she'll be wakin' up right soon now," the healer soothed the furious man in black.
Nettie Wells' soft voice interrupted Larabee before he could frame the next question, "Chris, all that blood on her night dress... that wasn't her's."
A sudden clattering on the stairs heralded the arrival of Buck, Josiah and J.D. Realizing how disturbing their noise was, the three had slowed when they reached the landing and they'd quietly entered the clinic just in time to hear Nettie's words.
Chris Larabee turned confused eyes on her frightened face as she continued, "I think it was Vin's..."
"Vin's?!" chorused the shocked men.
A sharp glance from the startled gunfighter quelled any further questions, "How could it be Vin's? It was just him and Mary in the alley." he demanded. "And didn't you just hear her cryin' out for Vin to stop attackin her? Explain that!" Chris insisted, his anger rising again at the memory of the injured woman's distressed cries. Resentment growing at the self-doubt he'd been suffering. He'd been right all along! Vin was the attacker!
"Mary's confused right now, she don't rightly know what she's sayin'." Nathan explained, his voice patient and gentle. He knew Vin Tanner would never have hurt Mary, was certain that, in his heart, Chris knew it too. Now he needed Chris to accept that he'd been hasty in jumping to the horrible conclusion that Vin had attacked Mary.
"The fact is she don't have any injuries that would cause her to bleed. That ain't her blood." the healer repeated firmly.
"Don't you see Chris?" pleaded Nettie Wells, "Someone else had to be in the alley - Vin wasn't tryin' to hurt Mary, he was tryin' to save her!"

Part 11

Vin Tanner had survived for his twenty-some-odd years alone by being constantly on guard and totally aware of his surroundings, but the injured man was now so occupied with the nearly overwhelming guilt he carried and the task of staying on Peso's back that he didn't notice the stranger following him out of Four Corners. Not that he would have been able to do anything about it anyway, he was just barely conscious and, with minimal direction from himself, depending on Peso to take him to high ground where he could take refuge.
As he clung desperately to Peso's mane, his clouded mind kept replaying the events in the alley. Why wasn't I faster? Why Mary? Oh God... Questions flew through his muddled brain, accentuated by each step of Peso's hooves, pounding him with self-recrimination and shame. Failed the only folk 'd ever give me a chance... he berated himself, All those other's was right, ain't no good to nobody... better off gone... The self sufficient tracker, who had endured in spite of all odds, was fast loosing the greatest battle of all; the basic instinct to sustain life at any cost was drifting away.
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Alby Savitch had no way of knowing about the tracker's internal struggle, certainly wouldn't have cared if he had, he was just enjoying following the injured man and biding his time.
Didn't know how much fun a body could have just watchin', the cruel man thought to himself, Near as much fun as doin' the hurtin... , Heard 'bout the "magnificent seven", he snorted to himself, this'n ain't no big deal, bleeds like anybody else. Guess they's the "magnificent six" now!" The outlaw nearly laughed out loud at his own joke, catching himself just in time, Hell, he don't need ta hear me yet, just a lit'l bit longer, he cain't ride much further.
Albert Savitch settled himself more comfortably in his saddle and continued to follow his prey at a leisurely pace, calmly awaiting his chance to strike. This is awright, he thought, I'll just ride 'long here 'til the sonofabitch falls off his damn horse. From the looks of him, that ain't gonna be long. The vicious man's lips twisted again in a spiteful sneer. Yer gonna pay good, tracker. he vowed. Nobody interferes with Alby Savitch and lives to tell 'bout it!
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Vin peeled on eye open to try and orient himself to his surroundings. Bless ya, Peso, yer right on track, I owe ya a nice big apple fer this. Even with his often ill-tempered ways, the tracker knew that when it counted, he could depend on the sometimes troublesome gelding. Horse 's always there for me when he 'as needed, he thought, Like I shoulda been there for Mary and the folks in Four Corners...
"Aww hell, why cain't I get it out'a my mind?" The words burst from the despondent tracker against his will, "G'me some peace, cain't take the pain no more!" Dropping his throbbing head, the injured man gave a heart wrenching choking sob, "I'm so sorry!" he cried out, the remnants of his heart shredding in his chest.
With intense effort, the former bounty hunter dug into his memory for the indian teachings he used so often to just survive. He beat down his thoughts and feelings, locked them away with his soul, Got'ta keep goin', put distance 'tween me and the town, git up in the rocks, git my head straight... and clinging to the reigns and Peso's mane, concentrated on his destination.
Only when he'd reached the barren rock outcropping would he give thought to his future, if I got a future... The only certainty in his life now being that he would not return to the town where he'd thought he had found a home. Couldn't face the disappointment and disgust he was sure to see on the faces of the men who had depended on him. Couldn't see his failure to protect Mary reflected in their disappointed eyes. No, Vin Tanner knew he would never go back there.
Peso continued to move steadily across the cold, rocky wasteland. Somehow, his rider had managed to convey to the big horse that he was expected to travel deep into the desolate tract, an otherwise forsaken area. The exhausted tracker tugged gently on the gelding's reigns, bringing the animal to a stop and quietly slid from the strangely subdued creature's back to lie unconscious on the ground.

Part 12

When Mary next opened her eyes, it was to recognize the concerned faces surrounding her.
"Hi Honey, how do you feel?" asked Nettie gently.
"My head hurts... am I.. in Nathan's clinic?" Mary recognized the room from her visits to the seven men after their many injuries. "Why am I here?"
"Do you remember anything Mrs. Travis?" Inquired Nathan hopping they would finally have an answer to the unsettling events of the night.
"No, I remember going to bed... did something happen to me? Have I been ill?" inquired the confused woman.
"No dear, you were injured outside the newspaper. Don't you remember?" Nettie replied, "There was a struggle... think dear." She urged the young woman to remember, fear settling on her heart.
"Mary!" Chris's firm tone was tempered by the softness of his voice, "Mary, stay awake, you have to tell me what happened in the alley..." He urged.
"I don't know... my head hurts so.. . I can't... " Mary's voiced faded as she closed her eyes again, drifting off to sleep.
Chris Larabee turned and stormed out onto the landing, slamming his fist into a verandah roof support post. "Damn!" he exclaimed in frustration.
"Nate, you go on out and see if you can reason with him, I'll stay with Mary." said Nettie, still hoping the young widow would awaken and be more lucid. Nettie's fears for Vin were growing by leaps and bounds. She could only hope that, since she and Nathan hadn't been called on to fix him up, his injuries were not as bad as she'd originally feared. But Nettie also knew that the physical injury would be of small importance compared to the rumors she was certain had already spread through town like wildfire. It was hard enough for someone like Vin to gain acceptance in a town like this without having the label "woman attacker" hanging over his head.
With a quiet "Thank you Nettie." Nathan scooted out the door to calm the irate gunfighter. He found the man pacing angrily back and forth across the small verandah. His mouth set in an uncompromising line.
"Look Chris, I know you ain't happy she can't tell us anything. But at least we know she's alright." said Nathan, his obvious disappointment in Mary's inability to answer their questions clearly written on his face.
"Is she all right Nathan? Can you assure me that she will be fine?" demanded the man in black. Buck, Josiah and J.D. drew close to hear the black man's response.
"Yea, Chris, I think I can. Like I said, She's probably got a concussion. Given rest, I expect she'll be just fine." reassured the healer.
Realizing that it would be a while before Mary could answer questions and that his already waning patience would not hold out any longer, Chris made a decision. "Alright, I'll check back with you later. Now, I'm gonna have a little talk with Tanner." said the man in black, the deadly calm of his voice unnerving to the men who had gathered around him.
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J.D. Dunne's eyes widened when he suddenly received the full force of the notorious Larabee glare. The kid stepped back in confusion, searching his brain for what he may have done to anger the ominous man. J.D.'s eyes darted to Buck and Josiah in a silent plea for help. Buck adopted an amused grin and shrugged his shoulders while Josiah just looked sympathetic. No help there, he thought. Finally, in desperation he squeaked out "WHAT?!"
"Where is he?" the gunslinger quietly demanded.
"Who?" replied J.D. trying to buy time to clear his head.
Chris Larabee had no patience for what appeared to be the kid's obvious delaying tactic and expressed his displeasure with a single word, "Tanner." he snarled.
"Oh, sorry," stuttered J.D., his eyes still darting from Buck to Josiah and back in the vain hope that they would step in so he didn't have to reveal the tracker's whereabouts to the enraged gunman. "Ummm... he's... uh..."
"J.D..." threatened the gunslinger.
"C'mon Chris..." began Buck, finally taking pity on the youth.
Larabee directed a quelling glance at the ladies man, then turned his green-eyed stare back to J.D. "I'm not asking you again." he growled.
With one final desperate glance at the other two peacekeepers, and seeing no more help forthcoming, J.D. muttered "Yosemite's lookin' after him down in the livery." The kid felt terribly guilty, like he had betrayed his friend.
Chris Larabee turned without another word and stalked down the stairs with the others in close pursuit. His long strides carried him quickly to the Livery. "Tanner! Where are you?" he demanded as he entered the dark building. Not hearing an answer he headed for the tack room where he slammed the door open.
Yosemite jumped back from the bridle he had just hung on a hook "Jesus! Ya 'bout scared me to death!" the big blacksmith exclaimed, "Can I do somethin' for ya?"
"Where's Tanner?" Larabee asked again, his tone brooking no argument.
"Ain't seen 'im. Been watching fer him since the boy asked me to 'while ago. But I ain't seen 'im." Replied the smithy, heading out to the bellows he was using to stoke the coals for his day's work.
The eyes of the three peacekeepers turned on J.D. , Buck and Josiah looked at him in dismay but Chris felt his impatience increasing at what he took to be the boy's stalling.
"J.D." he growled, his voice quiet and deadly, fire shooting from his green eyes, "I'm gonna give you one last chance, Where the hell is he?"
J.D. didn't know how he'd managed to make himself the target of the lethal man's ire, but he knew he didn't like it. "I swear Chris! I left him here, in a stall, asked Yosemite to look out for him! Don't you remember, Yosemite?" the young man pleaded of the blacksmith.
"J.D., you tol' me to keep a lookeyout fer Vin, never said nuttin' 'bout him bein' in a stall!" retorted the big man, "Now leave me be, I'm busy!" Yosemite dismissed the men and turned back to the bellows and the shoe he was shaping.
"C'mon Chris, I'll show you!" urged J.D., turning and rushing toward the farthest stall. The young man came to an abrupt halt when he realized that the stall was now empty, "I don't understand... He was right here..." he muttered, throwing handfuls of straw around as he searched for the missing man.
"J.D.! He ain't hidin' buried in the straw, quit makin' a mess!" exclaimed Buck as he looked around the building for a sign of where the man might be concealed.
"Well brothers, he may not be here now but he was here not too long ago." said Josiah. "Bleedin' bad, too, by the looks of it." The preacher pointed to the bloodstained straw still clutched in J.D.'s hand.
"Eeyuck." exclaimed the young easterner, dropping the straw. "Look! There's smears here too... Looks like he drug himself along the wall."
The three men followed the trail of blood where it led to Peso's stall. "Sonovabitch took off." muttered Chris disgustedly.
The man in black stalked to the next stall and began saddling his gelding.
"Now, what're you gonna do Chris?" asked Buck, a hint of pleading in his voice.
"Goin huntin'." Was the deadly response

Part 13

Nathan Jackson watched sadly as Chris Larabee's long strides carried him into the livery, Buck, Josiah and J.D. close on his heals. With a shake of his head, he turned back to the clinic door. The man who had dedicated himself to healing could only stand by helplessly as his friends suffered.
The black man entered the clinic to find Nettie Wells staring at him with undisguised fear written clearly on her face.
"Oh Nate, he's going after Vin, isn't he?" exclaimed Nettie, shaking herself free of the shock, "Why doesn't he understand? Vin would never hurt Mary!"
"Nettie, I think Chris doesn't want to accept that. That man was hurt bad when his wife and boy died. Probably froze his heart up good. Somehow, Vin forced his way past that wall Chris built up and I think Chris is scared. Scared he'll be hurt again. So, he's usin' anger as a shield." Nathan explained, trying to make sense of their leader's seemingly irrational behavior.
"You may be right, and if you are, my Vin is the best thing to happen to Chris Larabee since he lost his family. I just hope someone breaks through that rage before he does something he'll pay on for the rest of his life." Said Nettie, apprehension evident in her voice.
"It'd help us if Mary would wake and tell us exactly what happened in that alley..." replied the black healer, turning again to the blonde woman. Nathan was surprised to see her eyes open.
"Mary, can ya talk to me?" Nathan asked the young woman.
Mary Travis blinked her eyes, trying to focus on the anxious faces in front of her. Slowly, her mind began to sort out where she was, "Nate, Nettie," she acknowledged her friends. "What happened?" she asked, the pounding headache telling her that she had somehow been injured.
"That's what you need to tell us, dear." encouraged Nettie, "What do you remember?"
"I...I was in bed and I heard someone trying to open the alley door. I went to look... there was a man... Who was he?" asked Mary, her voice beginning to tremble as memory returned.
"We don't know who it was, didn't even know there was someone else." explained Nathan, "everybody thinks Vin attacked you..."
"WHAT!?" interrupted the now fully alert woman, "Vin?! Vin would never hurt me! I'm surprised that you two, of all people could think that! Shame on you!" Mary chastised them, her anger rising.
Seeing that the determined woman was trying to sit up, Nathan placed a calming hand on her shoulder, "Now Mary, you lay back there, you're too weak to get out of bed. You take your time, ya' hear?"
"No, Nathan! It appears to me that at soon as I close my eyes, you all lose your common sense! Vin attack me! Indeed!" exclaimed the incensed woman "I never heard of anything so ridiculous! A man, a stranger, attacked me and Vin must have been on patrol and heard my cry for help because he came running into the alley to save me!"
The door to the clinic opened, as her words fell on the ears of the two stunned listeners. All eyes turned to the man who entered.
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Vin Tanner was swimming on a sea of blackness and misery. As consciousness returned, his limbs screamed in pain, he felt as if his body was being torn apart. Slowly, painfully the darkness began to fade and the injured man began to realize that the agony threatening to overwhelm him was actually emanating from several locations. Taking shallow breaths, the former bounty hunter tried to take stock of himself; the first thing he noticed was a burning pain in his right side, just below his rib cage, he also realized several of his ribs were damaged making breathing difficult, his vision was blurred, probably from the blows to his face, and he felt the cold of the fall night seeping into the very marrow of his bones. The tracker shook his head slightly, trying to clear his muddled senses. He was rewarded by a lightening bolt of agony through his skull and the sound of a pistol cocking.
"Gonna wake up and join me, half-breed?" snarled a voice that the tracker couldn't identify. "Won't be no fun if yer out cold." snarled a voice Vin didn't recognize.
After what seemed an eternity, Vin's effort was rewarded when he managed to open one blue eye a slit. What he saw before him didn't improve his outlook on the world.
Sitting on a rock in front of him was an evil looking man, a colt cocked and pointed directly at his face.
"Don't know me, do ya?" said the stranger.
Laying on his side in the dirt, Vin tested his arms and realized his hands were tightly bound behind his back. With superhuman effort he managed to pull himself upright until he was sitting back against a large boulder. The effort used up most of his waning strength and he was left gasping from exertion and pain.
After several minutes, as the stranger just sat and smiled wickedly at him, Vin managed to gasp out "Who are ya? What do ya want with me?"
The sinister man just chuckled... "Thinkin' I'm yer angel of death..."

Part 14

Chris Larabee had saddled Pony and was mounting up as the other peacekeepers rushed to follow. His grim determination precluded any questions or comments from the wary men.
They were headed out of Four Corners before Buck finally spoke, "Whoa, stud. Where ya headed? You think you know where to find him?" he asked, trying to get the fuming man to stop and think about the actions he was about to take.
"Know how he thinks. Headed for high ground. I'll find him." replied the gunman with deadly calm.
"Think about what you just said, Chris, you do know how he thinks. So you know he would never hurt Mary." reasoned Josiah, "Your anger has been rulin' your heart 'n yer head. Please, brother, think before you do something you'll regret. Fences can still be mended..."
Larabee's mouth hardened in a white line and he turned a deadly green glare on the preacher. "Mind yer own business preacher man. You don't agree with me, ya don't need to come along." he snarled, spurring Pony onward toward the barren dirt and rock hills where he knew in his heart, Vin Tanner would go to nurse his wounds.
Truth be known, Josiah's words had struck too close for the gunfighter's comfort. Chris Larabee didn't want to think. Thinking was too painful. He wanted to act. Action would dispel the agony in his heart.
But the beating of that same organ was pounding the doubt into his brain. Was he wrong? Could it all have been a terrible, tragic mistake? Chris's mind recoiled at the thought. He'd fought an internal battle to prevent the long-haired young man from forcing his way into his life. Knew the pain such feelings could cause. But Vin Tanner was not to be denied and somehow had slipped past the gunslinger's defenses.
It had seemed so easy to grab the doubt when he'd seen Vin crouched over Mary's body. It'd been like a lifeline that he could use to pull himself away from the feelings he'd begun to experience; caring for another human being. It was easy to convert those feelings to anger, a shield to protect his still brittle emotions. Now he was being asked to pick the healing scabs away from his raw, aching soul and admit not only that he may have been wrong, that he may have attacked a man unjustly, but that he had allowed this man into that most protected place, the very essence of his being. And in admitting Vin Tanner into his soul, he would have to admit that he still had emotions and that he was willing to accept the pain and joy that came with them.
NO! he would not betray the deaths of Sarah and Adam! Chris Larabee had embraced the numbness when his emotions died with them and knew that he had no right to move on while his beautiful Sarah and precious son were cold in their graves. That's how it should be! And one scruffy tracker could not change that!
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"What?" queried Ezra as he entered the clinic and found six sets of eyes trained on him. He gently pulled the door closed behind him, "Have I missed something?" he enquired.
"Yes!" exclaimed Mary, before Nathan or Nettie could reply, "Everyone has lost their minds! These two think Vin attacked me! How absurd." Mary declared exasperatedly.
"My dear lady, please do not condemn them too harshly, the evidence was quite compelling." explained Ezra reasonably. "Upon his arrival in the alley, Mr. Tanner was crouched over your unconscious form, what else was Mr. Larabee to think?"
"Mr. Larabee? CHRIS?? CHRIS thinks Vin would attack me? I can't believe that!" protested the young woman, dismay creeping into her voice. "Where is he? I want to talk to him!" She demanded.
"Ah, a good question." said the gambler, "Where indeed is our noble leader?"
"He went after Vin." Nettie Wells replied sadly.

Part 15

"'Angel a'death,' huh," replied the bruised tracker, "don't look like no angel I ever pictured. Look more like a dusty ol' mudsill." said Vin, shifting his weight to try and relieve some of the pressure from his shoulders.
"Yer in poor damn shape ta be callin' me a mudsill!" raged Albert Savitch as he flew at the bound man and slapped him sharply across the face, "You best respect me boy! I got yer life in my hands!" he threatened.
"Got no life to speak of, so I ain't worried." the former bounty hunter said sadly, fighting off dizziness, nausea and despair.
"Y'll have less if ya keep mouthin' off ta me!" menaced the outlaw. "I have need of ya fer a while, then I'd jus' as soon kill ya... best treat me real nice like and I might let ya live... 'er at least let ya die quick-like!"
The man's harsh words caught Vin's ebbing attention, "Need of me fer what?" he asked sharply
The sadist responded with a harsh, unnerving cackle, "Got me a little retal'ation to dole out!"
"'gainst who?" gasped Vin, battling the shadows that threatened to engulf him. The tracker wiped a trickle of blood on his shoulder from where his lip had been split by the outlaw's blow.
"Now that's fer me to know! You jus' shut yer mouth! Yer distractin' me, startin' to make me wish I'd finished ya off in town!" snarled Alby, backhanding the tortured man. "Git up 'n start walkin!" The criminal reached out and grabbed the tracker by his collar, dragging the barely conscious man to his feet.
Vin's head swam and he fell into the rock to maintain his balance. In town? the tracker struggled to make sense of what the man was saying, in town... aww hell.. this's the bastard that attacked Mary. His stomach lurched at the thought of the woman lying in the cold alley and he turned all of his concentration to preventing an unwelcome return of his last meal. Last meal? When was that? Vin's muddled mind wandered back to the previous night, to the time before his world had ended. Been nearly 24 hours since I ate last... guess I don't need to worry 'bout pukin' nothin' up... With an effort that nearly cost him his tenuous hold on consciousness, Vin gave a mental shrug, dragging his thoughts back to the present and the brutal man before him and his determination to fight the man at any cost
Snatching a handful of the former bounty hunter's hide coat, Alby jerked Vin forward and shoved his colt cruelly into the tracker's back.
"Move!" he demanded again, cocking the gun, "'kin use ya alive but I'll kill ya if I have to. No never mind ta me." he snarled, pushing the barrel further into Vin's flesh.
"Where to?" gasped the tracker, trying desperately to sort out his muddled thoughts. A warm wetness at his hip told him that the wound below his ribs had been broken open and was bleeding again. Unable to lift his feet, he was putting every ounce of energy in his body into shuffling along in front of the vicious man.
"You an' me 're gonna do some huntin'" the spiteful man retorted, "Keep walkin'!"
After what seemed an eternity to the wounded man, the pair neared the edge of the outcropping of boulders. Vin recognized it as just above where he'd entered the barren wasteland. The tracker's confused brain had just enough time to form the thought that they were moving to an ideal position to observe anyone entering the rocky range, a sanctuary where he'd thought he could isolate himself and rethink his future, when the attacker turned on him.
"Si'down." ordered the fugitive, striking Vin with the butt of the weapon. The impact threw the already battered body violently to the rocky ground, forcing the air out of his straining lungs. The young tracker could no longer maintain his weak grip on consciousness and slid quietly into the dark oblivion that gladly seized him in its unyielding grasp.
Albert Savitch took up watch of the trail below, certain that Larabee would soon appear.
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It was a silent group of four men riding out of Four Corners. Each was lost in his own dark thoughts and each man was, for the first time since banding together in the dirt town, uncertain of what the future would hold.
Chris Larabee rode steadily onward. He wasn't allowing himself to think about the forthright blue gaze that kept intruding into his mind's eye. He was focused on trying to read the tracks, blocking out thoughts of the man who could read tracks better than Larabee could read a paper, the man he'd met just a short time ago but felt like he'd known all his life. Using his iron will, the gunfighter directed his total attention to the trail, looking for anything that would direct him to his prey.
Larabee knew that Vin would seek the high rocky ground north of town, knew he was physically hurt and would hide out to recover, knew this because of the deep bond he shared with the tracker. And now that bond was tearing his heart to pieces. No, I have to stay focused, remember Mary, and how it felt when I saw her unconscious on the ground. He did that to her... don't think about the way he fought beside me in the Indian Village... about the way he knows what I'm thinkin' sometimes before I do... he admonished himself He's not the man I thought he was! Focus! But still the battle in his soul raged.
Buck rode quietly beside his longtime friend, worry etched in his handsome face. He knew Chris was ripping himself up inside. Sheer stubbornness alone couldn't account for his actions. Had to be more to it than that... But the ladies man was too absorbed in keeping up with the determined man to give it too much thought right now.
Josiah couldn't read signs to track but he sure could read human nature. He thought he understood why Chris was acting like he was. The man had let the scruffy tracker get to him. Now he was scared, scared of the feelings he was experiencing. Josiah could appreciate that. He felt the same way about God. Afraid to let him in 'cause of the hurt his father had caused but knew he couldn't live without Him in his life. Helluva choice. It'll be interesting to see how Chris works it out, the answer just might help me... In the meantime, he'd just ride along and watch and try to prevent any worse injury to Vin... or to Chris.
J.D. didn't understand anything that had been happening in the last 12 hours! How could Chris turn on Vin? Shoot! How could Vin attack Mary?! Just didn't make any sense... He felt there were undercurrents between the older men that he couldn't comprehend and slightly resented the fact that no one had clued him in, but he would ride with them and would take things as they came.

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