TRAGIC MISTAKE

by doc

Part 58

As the cold blanket of night wrapped firmly around the town, Albert "Alby" Savitch was becoming desperate. His desire for a victim had become overpowering and he was further agitated by the notable lack of game! There wasn't a wench to be had in the whole damn town. Every one of them was hidin' out, travelin' in packs or locked onto a man.
To compound his frustration, the sight of the blonde newspaper woman getting off the stage had caused the smoldering obsession to burst forth into flame, threatening to consume him.
She'd only been in town since early that day, but already Alby was livid that he hadn't found a way to get to her. He'd been watching carefully from the shadows, hoping she'd make a mistake and put herself within his reach, but so far she'd been too cautious for him.
He didn't expect she'd be out walking the boardwalk after dark and he figured she'd be too suspicious of any diversion he created to lure her out of her home - especially with that brat she had attached to her apron.
The heartless man was getting ready to give up on her and look for other prey to satisfy his obsessive need when he caught movement at the entrance to the livery. The strange gait of the form sliding along the rough building toward a side alley held his attention as he tried to determine what the man was doing. Look's like the town drunk's on the move... he thought, discounting the figure. The killer was about to turn back into the shadows when the flickering of one of the street fires lit up familiar black clothing.
A slow, evil smile spread across Alby's cruel lips as he realized that an even better victim had just fallen into his lap.
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Mary Travis sat quietly staring into the warm fire burning in the grate in her small, comfortable sitting room. After a trying day, she'd finally gotten Billy settled on the couch. The boy was still having minor pain and didn't want to be alone, so Mary gave in to his pleading eyes and let him lay down in the sitting room - but just until she went to bed.
Mary's return to Four Corner's had been hectic as she tried to keep Billy calm and get their home back in order. Because her departure had been so hasty, she'd really left things at sixes and sevens! In addition, she was sickened by the vicious rumors and speculation surrounding the attack on her and by how cruelly Vin had been treated.
Guilt weighed heavily on the beautiful woman - if only she'd been able to talk to Chris or finish the special edition about the real assailant she was typesetting for the Clarion before she rushed off to be with Billy... Vin would have been spared the malicious attacks. The false accusations against someone who was not only innocent but a man who had risked his life to save her was appalling to the kind woman and she promised herself - and Vin Tanner- that the truth would be known!
"Mama?" Mary was startled from her thoughts by Billy calling to her from the other side of the room where he was standing looking out the window into the darkness.
"Billy? What are you doing up? I said you could stay with me if you stayed on the settee." said the young mother sternly as she gathered up her son's discarded blanket to wrap warmly around his shoulders.
"I know Mama, but I heard somethin' outside and I got up to look out the window and I saw Chris. Can we ask him to come see my splint?"
"Billy, I'm sure Mr. Larabee is on his way to his bed for the night - which is where you should be. I'm certain you'll see him sometime tomorrow." replied the young mother as she began to hustle the blond-haired child toward his room.
"Oh, ok." said the disappointed child, "It's just 'cause I saw him, and he was walkin' kinda funny, like maybe he was hurt, so I thought you might ask him to come in." Billy looked at his mother with hope in his eyes.
"What do you mean he looked like he was hurt? Billy are you sure? Where was he?"
"I couldn't see him real good but I know it was him 'cause he was wearin' his black shirt. He was walkin' kinda funny outta the stable where he keeps Pony."
Mary flew to the window and pressed her face to the cold glass, looking for any sign of the blonde gunman. Chris hurt? How? He may need help... her thoughts whirled around in her head.
"Billy, I'm going to go see if Chris is okay. I want you to stay right here. You promise?" Billy gave his word that he wouldn't leave the room and after tucking his blanket securely around her young son, the flaxen haired woman grabbed up her wrap and stepped out into the cold night.

Part 59

Like a hunter knows his prey - Vin Tanner knew that the animal he was tracking was nocturnal and fed on the fear and agony he caused his victims.
In spite of the pain and weakness threatening to bring him to his knees, the injured man's senses were heightened as he made his way around the crates stacked in the dark alleyway. Bitter experience had taught the tracker that the monster would feel at home in the murky crevices and shadows, and a gut feeling told him that this was where he and the vicious killer would meet for the final time.
He moved cautiously, straining to find the slightest sign; a boot print, disturbed ground, anything that would help him in his pursuit of the cold-blooded killer. As he searched the darkness, Vin's hand instinctively drifted to the medicine bag, ever present around his neck, in unconscious prayer that his failing body would hold out until he completed his self-appointed mission.
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An unnatural elation tingled through every fiber of the Alby's body. Finally he was coming face to face with the man who'd murdered his brother. …and tonight, the famous intimidating gunfighter Chris Larabee would die a slow, pain-filled death!
Alby was nearly giddy with anticipation when a break in the clouds allowed enough moonlight to filter through the cold night air to illuminate the man he was trailing. What the hell? his mind jolted with confusion. The man he was stalking had on Larabee's black shirt but… Savitch could see that what he'd mistaken to be the gunman's customary black pants were actually brown - covered with dark stains…blood? And the man's hair wasn't blond… it was long and curly… Tanner! Alby snarled soundlessly, rage building inside him. That goddamn sonofabitch is in my way agin!! The killer had to force himself not succumb to the desire to fly at the tracker and beat the interfering man to hell. Alby'd learned from their previous encounter that only a fool would attack the former bounty hunter, no matter how disadvantaged the man was, without being prepared for battle.
Albert Savitch hadn't managed to satisfy his depraved needs and escape the law by being either a fool or careless. He'd developed cat-like skills; he could move soundlessly, anticipating obstructions that might interfere with his hunt. And he'd realized that it was important to know his prey. Alby had spent his time in Four Corners wisely, learning all he could about Larabee and the men who rode with him, and while his main interest had been the gunman, he'd been real interested in what folks had to say about Tanner.
The sharpshooter was a major topic of conversation in town and the killer'd heard many stories of the expertise with which the tracker worked; the man's uncanny instincts, skillfulness at reading signs invisible to others, and the affinity the former buffalo hunter had for the Indians he'd lived with. As if to validate all the penny dreadful type stories being told by the bored townspeople, the clearly injured Tanner fought off his pain and weakness to continue in his doomed search of the alley.
Each step Tanner took was deliberate and cautious and had he not had the advantages of the man's weakness and his own ability to sneak up on his victim without warning, Albert questioned if he would have been able to take Tanner down.
Alby was impressed by the younger man's stamina and determination and he was thankful that he'd been cautious in his hunt. As he smiled cruelly to himself, the deranged man delighted in the knowledge that he'd never needed his murderous skills more than he would this night. Maybe he didn't have Larabee - for now - but the long-haired man would be a real challenge and was going to provide more entertainment than Alby'd had in a long time.

Part 60

Ezra had tried to grab some sleep; the conman was exhausted from the events of the past few days. Somehow the routine patrols had defaulted to Standish and he hadn't managed to get much rest. But after lying in his feather bed, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, the gambler gave up on catching a nap and dragged his tired body down to the saloon, hoping to find a little diversion to occupy him until he had to go out on another night patrol.
Scanning the already crowded room, Ezra saw a lone figure sitting forlornly in a back corner. Ignoring the gaming tables that usually monopolized his attention, Standish made his way between the tables and pulled up a chair to sit down with the dejected man.
"Well, Mr. Wilmington, from your appearance, one would think that you have lost your last friend."
"Don't know how close to right you are Ez. Chris's got me worried near sick." replied Buck "Tried goin' to my room to catch some shut eye, but I just couldn't stand just layin' there and thinkin'. I just can't figure out how this thing 'tween Vin and Chris… hell, Vin and all'a us is gonna get put right."
"Buck, both Vin and Chris are reasonably intelligent men. I'm sure they'll realize how important they are to each other and work out their differences. Not to mention that, amazingly enough, Mr. Tanner is not the type of man to harbor ill will. I believe if we approach him properly - he will understand."
"I hope you're right Ezra, 'cause if they don't, and he don't, the rest of us are gonna be hurtin'!" said the ladies man.
"Speaking of which… exactly where are 'the rest of us'?" enquired the gambler. "As I am apparently the only one able to patrol this lovely settlement, I am assuming they are all somewhere being industrious? Or perhaps they have managed to get some of the much needed respite that I have been unable to obtain?"
"Don't know that anybody's restin' right now Ez. J.D.'s out at Chris's shack lookin' after Vin and Josiah is up helpin' Nathan take care a'Reba."
"And our currently unapproachable leader? Where is Mr. Larabee?" asked Ezra courteously.
"Last I saw Chris, he was headed toward the jail. Think he wants to be alone…" Buck replied, with a sad shake of his head.
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Mary moved cautiously around the back corner of the building to peer into the dark, shadowed alley. Tightly clutching the shawl she had drawn hastily around her shoulders, the blonde woman took a deep breath and stepped further into the ominous pathway.
Flashbacks to the last time she'd stepped out into the darkness froze her in her tracks as she again drew in several deep breaths, trying to steel her nerves.
Shaking off the fear, Mary reminded herself why she had come out into the night. Chris. Billy said he'd seen the gunman moving into the alley and her son had been so sincere when he said the gunman looked hurt. Mary knew that if Chris was injured and need of help - she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t help him. She probably could have looked for one of the others to go with her, but she knew they were occupied with the attacks that had occurred in town. Besides, she wasn't going to let a little thing like fear of the dark keep her from helping the man who had come to mean a great deal to her.

Part 61

Vin was exhausted, his pain-racked body threatening to betray him as he forced himself to systematically search for the Four Corner's alley where Mary had been attacked. The tracker had no doubt about who he was looking for. He knew it was Savitch, the man who’d taken him hostage. Vin didn't remember much of what happened up in the rocks outside town, didn't know how Savitch got away, didn't really care. He knew the type of animal Savitch was and that he was responsible for the continued attacks in Four Corners. And he knew the man had to be destroyed.
And not just to avenge Mary and the other dead girl, or to protect other women.
The obsession fueling the injured tracker, keeping him on his feet when he should have collapsed long ago, was the knowledge that the killer had come to Four Corners for the unwavering purpose of killing Chris Larabee. And the possibility that the evil, deranged man could succeed terrified Vin.
Fresh determination, born of the horrifyingly real image of Chris being cut down by the killer forced Vin onward in his hunt, despite the almost overwhelming pain and exhaustion. As he moved quietly through the darkness, Vin prayed desperately to find something, anything, that would give him a clue as to where the murderer had come from, and then maybe help him backtrack him to where he is. He knew he couldn't last much longer, and his senses became so focused on his goal, that the normally perceptive man was unaware that he was being stalked.
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Buck and Ezra sat in silence, neither even attempting to put words to their feelings. In his own way, each man understood how deeply the rift among their friends would affect their lives.
Much to his surprise, Buck had found himself settling down comfortably in Four Corners, relaxing from the constant search for… what? a family? Buck knew that all many saw in him was a womanizer, but in truth, he was looking for the security he'd been missing since first losing his mother and then having the wonderful home that Chris and Sarah had welcomed him into snatched away. He'd been truly at peace with the young Larabee family, reveling in their love and the contentment of their small ranch. And the energetic Adam, who was like his own son, brought him nothing but joy. When they were murdered, Buck felt like a piece of him had been torn away. And he hadn't been able to replace that piece no matter how many women he found to share a physical relationship.
Strangely though, he'd begun to feel healed just by being with the other six men in this dirty little town.
Ezra on the other hand had never known the security that came of being given unconditional love, so he didn't really know what he was missing - but he knew he was missing something.
The gambler traveled constantly, never willing - or even able - to settle down in one place. Make no doubt, he enjoyed the challenge each new town offered. The battle of wits when he found a worthy opponent and the tests he set for himself when he found only dirt farmers and trail hands to take on. No matter where he found himself, Ezra Standish kept an eye out for the main chance - the one gamble that would finally make him feel that his mother would be proud… Then he'd arrived in Four Corners. What he'd expected to be a brief respite before moving on to bigger prospects had turned into a desire to settle in. He finally felt like he belonged and his mother's opinion didn't matter so much anymore.
All things considered… it was amazing how significantly coming to Four Corners and finding the other men had affected each individual, and tragic how the loss of just one man would impact them all.

Part 62

Chris found himself sitting behind the sheriff's desk in the empty jail. He'd sought out the solitude, hoping he’d be able to clear his head, but being alone with his thoughts just intensified the recriminations pounding through his brain.
After three years of drinking and fighting - courting death, Vin Tanner had crossed his path and changed his life. The former bounty hunter's unruffled constancy forced him toward the healing that was long overdue. Larabee finally understood that the only way to overcome his demons was to face them, head on, then move on.
Even with a $500 bounty on his head and a grim determination to clear his name, the younger man maintained a quirky sense of humor and a joy in nature the likes of which Larabee had never seen. Chris had come to realize that if Tanner, who survived a tragic childhood and faced an uncertain future, could find it within himself to see beauty in the world, then maybe he should stop wallowing in grief and contemplate how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
Frequently now, the gunman was taken aback when hours, sometimes even a day would elapse and the ghosts of his past hadn't dominated his every thought. At first he was overcome with guilt when he realized that he'd allowed Sarah and Adam to drift from his consciousness, but recently, the burden of mourning their deaths had lifted and he found comfort in the memory of their lives. He found himself sharing anecdotes of their time together and even their personalities with the men who had, against his will, begun to feel like family.
Chris smiled to himself as he thought about maybe settling down, maybe creating a real life in Four Corners. Slowly, images of the folks he'd come to care about in this town flashed through his head like flipping pages through a book; Mrs. Potter, Nettie Wells; a small, blond haired boy who loved his whittling…the boy's beautiful, enigmatic mother, the men he depended on…. and who depended on him; Buck, Nathan, Josiah, J.D… even Ezra, men who he trusted to watch his back. A trust that didn't exist such a short time ago. And finally, most importantly, the man he thought of as a brother…
The comfortable musing Larabee had allowed his mind to drift toward was suddenly shattered when his thoughts traveled full circle back to where he'd begun - the destruction of the very bond that had compelled him to look toward the future.
Realizing he'd allowed himself to surrender to fatigue and the fantasy of a brighter tomorrow, Chris ran his fingers savagely through his hair, trying to brush away his thoughts. How can I sit here daydreamin' about my life when everything that hinted at any hope is shot to hell? he berated himself.
Jumping to his feet, Chris was spitefully satisfied by the sound of splintering wood as the chair he'd been sitting in crashed to the floor. Striding angrily across the room, Chris thrust the door open with such force that it slammed into the wall as his determined footsteps carried him toward the batwing doors leading into the saloon. It'll be mighty easy to slide into a bottle right now. he thought, let the burn of the whiskey sear away this pain trying to take hold of me.
The black clad gunman had actually begun to reach for the swinging doors when a strange foreboding swept over him, freezing his arm in mid air. He couldn't identify the cause of the discomfort but it was strong enough to turn him around and guide him to stand on the edge of the boardwalk, his intense green eyes scanning the dark street for… What?

As he stepped into the street, Larabee didn't know what had stopped him but he sure as hell knew he was going to find out!
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Alby quietly drew his knife and carefully watched the failing tracker.
A sadistic light twinkled in his eyes as he anticipated the blood the interfering injun-lover would shed. Savitch intended to make Tanner suffer for getting in the way, not only of his carefully planned revenge on Larabee but also for breaking up the promising little tussle he'd had with the blonde looker. Yep. That damn tracker deserved everything Alby could dish out to him!
As much as the killer was enjoying the "hunt" and following the unsuspecting, and obviously suffering tracker, he knew he would need to act soon, or his prey would collapse into unconsciousness.
And where would the fun be in that?

Part 63

A sudden commotion at the saloon's back door roused Buck and Ezra from their reverie. Each man glanced at the other to assure himself that his friend was alert, and then both turned their attention to the irate, cursing bundle of easterner rushing toward them.
"Whoa son… calm down there. Somebody piss in yer boot?" Buck propelled the furious young man into a chair and shoved a beer toward him.
J.D. took a healthy swallow and turned a fairly accurate imitation of the famous 'Larabee glare' on his friend. Before he could speak, Ezra leaned forward in his seat, demanding his attention.
"Mr. Dunne, it was my understanding that you could not take the incessant patrol duty because you were to be nursing Mr. Tanner while the highly talented Mr. Jackson cared for that unfortunate saloon courtesan. Do you think it was wise to leave our intrepid tracker alone?"
"Hell Ezra, I didn't leave Vin - he left me! "J.D. exclaimed in frustration.
"What're ya talkin' about J.D.? How the hell could Vin leave you?" Buck stared at his friend incredulously.
"Really Mr. Dunne! That is a bit difficult to believe. Mr. Tanner was certainly in no condition to embark on a journey of any kind. Apparently, you are overwrought and are not imparting the information appropriately. Let us try this again… Surely you should be at Mr. Larabee's humble abode caring for Mr. Tanner… can you please adequately explain why you chose to abandon our ill fated comrade?"
"DAMMIT! Will ya quit caterwaulin' and let me tell ya?" shrieked the younger man, "I didn't leave Vin - Vin left me!
"Yes J.D., you have already relayed that implausible information. Could you perhaps enlighten us a smidgen further?" Standish was using his "overly patient" voice and J.D. just became angrier.
"Just shut up, Ez, and listen to me! After Chris and Nate left, I went in the cabin to look out for Vin. He was just layin' there, all bundled up, it was real creepy… the way he just watched me and didn't move… Anyway, I remember him askin' for some soup Nate made and left on the stove and I remember reaching for some wood to stoke up the fire… then I woke up on the floor and Vin was gone!"
"Hell J.D., maybe he wandered off, delirious. Did you go look for him?
"Yea Buck, I looked for him! I'm not an idiot!! I'm tellin' ya, Vin cracked me on the head and took off." J.D. looked at each man in turn, anger again flashing in his eyes. "Not only did he knock me out and run off… he stole my damn horse! I had to ride that mean, spiteful bastard of a mule of his. Sonofabitch tried to eat me alive while I was saddlin' him then tried to brush me off against every damn tree we passed to get here!"
"J.D." Buck's urgent tone interrupted the rush of words, "How do you know it was Vin hit ya? You sure nobody took him?"
"Yea… I'm pretty sure it was Vin…" replied J.D. thoughtfully, "Can't imagine anyone else being able to sneak up on me like that…you know how Vin can move around like a ghost. Besides, my horse is in the livery."
Buck and Ezra looked at each other sharply, easily communicating the sudden unease which had swept over them.
"Well, Ez, guess we'd best go down to the jailhouse and disturb Chris with this little bit of news."
"Unfortunately, I agree Mr. Wilmington. And just when I thought matters were settling down…"

Part 64

Vin knew he was quickly reaching the end of his endurance and slumped against a crate. He was struggling to gather his last ounce of strength to continue the search, but stubborn determination alone wasn't going to keep him going; his resources were exhausted. And to further frustrate him, he hadn't found one clue that would help him find the killer.
The tracker found himself drifting and would have collapsed completely had not the loud crash of wood on wood penetrated the haze taking over his consciousness. Vin's head jerked up and his right hand, slick with the blood running down his arm from his shoulder, grabbed the hilt of his belt knife as he slid deeper into the shadows, his back against a wall.
Before he could identify the sound that had alerted him, movement to his left, the area that would have been behind him had he not instinctively protected his back, captured his attention.
Vin's blue eyes widened in shock as he saw Alby Savitch, the very monster he'd been searching for, crouched in front of him, knife in hand. The cruel man's features were twisted in a malevolent, fanatical mask, madness clearly overcoming any reason he may have had left.
"So tracker... we meet agin! I knew ya wouldn't git away from me!" growled the vicious killer, "you and me got bizness ta tend to 'fore I can finish what I come here for."
"Ahhh… ya still think you're gonna take Larabee? Ya think I'll let you? Ya caused enough pain and misery in this town…" carried on a burst of adrenalin, fresh energy suffused Vin's body as his eyes darted around looking for an advantage over the crazed man. "Ya mighta got a few licks in before 'cause ya caught me off guard, but not this time. Way I see it; you ain't got it in ya to take on nobody other than a helpless woman, then only if ya can take 'em by surprise."
"Ya rotten sonofabitch!" snarled Alby, rage spewing forth, "Yer near 'nough dead as makes no never mind and yer thinkin' yer gonna get outa this alley alive? I'm gonna show you how I c'n handle a no account injun-lover and by time I'm done, yer gonna be beggin' me to end yer miserable, no-account existence. Won't have ta worry 'bout nobody carin' when yer gone neither! From what I seen, nobody in this town'll give a tinker's damn if yer alive 'er dead! Hell, they’ll prob’ly thank me fer save'n 'em the trouble a lynchin' ya!"
Vin knew that the killer was trying to goad him into acting foolishly but he couldn't ignore the anguish the man's words caused. Tanner choked back the grief that suddenly rose in his throat and focused on defeating the cold-blooded monster before him. "Just shows I got nothin' to lose by takin' you on." He replied coldly, his resolve strengthened by the need to finish what he should have done the night Mary was killed.
As if the thought had conjured up a phantom, Vin heard Mary's voice tentatively call his name…
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Mary was unnerved by the sudden sound of angry voices emanating from the darkness and was turning to retreat back to her rooms when a brief flash of moonlight glinted off of metal down the alley. Straining to understand the angry words, she moved cautiously further into the darkness. The beautiful widow followed the sound and was taken aback when she finally made out Vin Tanner crouched in a fighting position, a knife in his hand.
Confused at seeing the man she'd thought safely ensconced at Chris' shack, she took another step forward and quietly called his name.
"Vin…?"
Tanner's head flew up, his total attention on the voice he thought stilled on a horrible, cold night more than a week ago. Mary? Confusion reigned as the tracker tried to get his mind around what his senses were telling him…
Unfortunately, Vin didn't have time to sort out his thoughts as Albert Savitch used the tracker's distraction as an opportunity to attack. Driving himself forward, the killer barreled his shoulder into Tanner’s already damaged ribs and slammed the injured man into the wall with enough force to snatch Vin's breath from his body.
Then Mary Travis began to scream.

Part 65

Walking slowly down the boardwalk, Larabee's eyes searched the darkness for anything out of place, anything that would identify the source of the turmoil churning up his gut. The gunman was about ready to give up and head back to the saloon to drown the disturbing sensations when he heard a woman's terrified cry and took off at a dead run toward the alley beside the livery, his colt in his hand.
Chris wasn't sure what he expected to find, but the sight of Mary Travis standing alone in the darkness, momentarily halted him in his tracks. Recovering quickly, Larabee grabbed the blonde woman by the shoulder as she continued to cry out in dismay, and spun her around to face him.
Helpless to stop the deadly attack occurring in the dark alley, Mary gasped as she felt a hand seize her and then quickly exclaimed in relief as her eyes fell on the black clad gunman.
"Chris! Thank God! You have to stop him! He'll kill him!"" she gasped out, grabbing Chris's arm and pointing down the alley.
"Who?" demanded the gunman, pushing the shaking woman behind him as he cautiously sidestepped forward. The unmistakable sounds of a violent struggle greeted him and he began to advance more swiftly.
"Vin, he's trying to kill Vin..."
Mary's words just barely entered his consciousness before he began running forward, all caution forgotten.
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Gasping for air, Vin tried to shake off the sudden wave of nausea and confusion that further muddled his thoughts. Instincts born of a hard life took over and Vin drew from the very bottom of his resources to fight back against the brutal man. The need to stop the vicious murderer far outweighed any thought of self preservation the injured tracker may have harbored.
Tanner's knife had flown from his blood-slicked grasp at the first attack so his only option was to fight using the skills he'd learned throughout his years of existing in an unforgiving world. Knowing he had little hope of surviving against the healthy, driven killer, the sharpshooter shoved himself off of the wall, throwing his body into the man, allowing his momentum to take them both to the ground.
Alby was the first to recover as a peculiar rush of pleasure swept over him. Damn, bastard has some fight left in him after all! he thought as he fisted his hand and drove it into the tracker's bloodstained shoulder.
Vin bit back a cry of agony as his world shifted and tear's filled his eyes, further blurring his vision. Sucking in huge draughts of air, Tanner tried to shake off the darkness pulling at him. As the killer couched over him, preparing to strike again, Vin drew his leg up and thrust his foot violently into Savitch's chest.
The tracker's movement caught the madman by surprise and Alby fell back. Taking a moment to regain his balance, he realized that Tanner was getting his feet under him and beginning to rise. Springing forward, Alby wrapped his arms around Vin's body, squeezing as he again took the injured man to the ground.
Vin's vision swam and his chest exploded in fire, the pressure of the killer's arms tight around him combined with the weight of the man pushing him into the ground draining the last of the sharpshooter's strength. Total exhaustion began pulling Vin down into darkness.
As Vin felt his last shred of consciousness slipping away he heard the sound of pounding feet and the unmistakable jingle of spurs. Chris… he thought as oblivion enveloped him.
Alby Savitch, smiling evilly as he attempted to squeeze the very life out of the tracker, also became aware of the sound of someone running toward him. Glancing up, he quickly realized that he'd allowed himself to be cornered with the damn tracker!
Quickly scanning the area around the unconscious man, he caught the glint of moonlight on metal and grabbed Tanner's belt knife from where it was laying within easy reach.
In one fluid motion, the brutal murderer grabbed a handful of the tracker's hair and pulled the unresponsive man's body in front of him, creating a very effective shield, and placed the razor-sharp blade of the knife against Vin's throat.

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