Ezra Standish paused at the swinging doors, looking out at the night sky.  A sliver of moon yawned in the heavens and in a week’s time it would be a full moon.  The time of month that seemed to bring out all kinds of lunacy and fanatics.  Behind him the raucous laughter and clink of glass echoed in the saloon, but even the familiar environment couldn’t dispel his unsettled mood.  He stepped out onto the boardwalk and took up a seat on the bench.  He lounged back against the wall, giving the impression, to anyone watching, that he was relaxed and contented.  Nothing could be further from the truth.   

To top everything off, he’d received a wire from his mother that morning.  And he hadn’t heard word from her in months.  That was not unusual.  But her sending a message by telegraph informing him that she was sending three tickets to St Louis and they would arrive via the stage was distinctly out of character for his mother.  But she was always doing something out of the ordinary to keep him on his toes. He only needed to send a return wire to confirm, but to do so would either prove it to be wrong, or worse, if it is indeed genuine, have her rescind her offer.  What to do? He certainly relished the idea of vacating the town for a while.  It had been a particularly trying time of late contending with the frequent…pranks being thrown his way. And the others always denied doing them.  He flinched as Vin Tanner jumped onto the walkway, leaning against a support.  He hadn’t seen, or heard Vin’s approach.  “Mr. Tanner,” Ezra drawled, quickly recovering his equilibrium.   

“Ev’nin’, Ezra.” 

“Word about town says you encountered some trouble earlier today?”  Standish looked pointedly at Vin’s bandaged hand.  Didn’t Larabee say Vin had not been injured? 

“Prob’ly j’st kids.” Vin saw where the gambler’s attention had strayed.  “Small burn.  Nathan gave me some salve ta put on it.  Hear ya ain’t had such a great day neither.”   

“That why ya out here hidin’?”  He’d laughed with the others when Standish complained of the pile of horseshit dumped in his room; they’d all thought it a harmless prank, but no one had owned up to it.  But Cottonmouths were another thing.  And there’d been three more inside Ezra’s room, besides the one Chris shot, and they were all fully-grown, too.  Larabee had found the others after the gambler had left.  Ezra could’ve been bit.  He could have died in his own room. 

“Nothing of the sort,” Standish rebuked.  “I’m… enjoying the scenery.”    

Vin snorted, looking over his shoulder and taking in the view Standish had been staring at.  “Ain’t much ta look at.  I’m takin’ a room at the Gem tonight.  Mightn’t be a bad idea if ya do the same.” 

He’d been contemplating the same idea.  “I was given the impression that Josiah offered you respite.” 

Vin shook his head and grinned.  “Ain’t ya heard Josiah snore?” 

A glint of amusement shone in his eyes.  “Indeed,” Standish chuckled.  

Tanner scuffed his boots on the wooden boardwalk.  He clicked his tongue, wondering how he should address his thoughts. 

Standish watched the Texan’s turmoil.  If Ezra had been in a more frivolous mood he might have harassed Tanner, but he was tired.  “Vin…”  Tanner met his eyes.  “Just ask.” 

Vin nodded and sighed.  “Heard yer ma is payin’ for three train tickets ta St Louis.” 

 Of course…who hadn’t heard? Dunne had been breakfasting with him when he received the wire. “Mr. Dunne should have been a woman.”   

“Huh?” 

“The way he propagates gossip,” Standish clarified causing the tracker to shake with laughter.   

Tanner wasn’t exactly sure what the word ‘propagate’ meant, but he got the point and it was funny.  “Everybody’s been talkin’ about it.”  Along with his wagon going up in flames and the snakes in Standish’s room.  Hell, there was far too much talk about them at the moment. 

“I gather by your presence that you are angling for one of them?”  Ezra arched his eyebrows.  He’d been planning on asking Tanner to join him, but as yet hadn’t determined whom the remaining ticket should go to.  JD had certainly been keen. But Josiah’s company would be agreeable too. 

“Ya goin’?” 

“That would depend on our illustrious leader.” 

“Chris ain’t gonna stop ya.”  Why would Ezra think that? Unless it’s an excuse not to go. 

That’s debatable.  “Yes, I would like to take the opportunity to visit Mother in St Louis, especially since she is covering the costs.  That occasion doesn’t avail itself very often.”  In fact, he was hard-pressed to ever remember a time… 

“Yer gonna want some comp’ny.” Vin grinned, his smile infectious.  “Long way ta go on yer own,” he reasoned.  “And we wouldn’t want ya gettin’ lost.”  Standish needed some support when he came face to face with the elderly con-woman.  He could also ensure that Ezra returned, unharmed, to Four Corners.  Vin would face travel in a sweltering stage and train and visiting a city to protect his friend.   

“I have travelled many miles unaccompanied in the past.”  That was certainly true.  He’d been shuffled about the country since he was a child; a majority of those trips were very long and extremely lonely.  When Maude had finished a con, or required him no more in the use of a con, Standish had been put on the first stage out of town.  Those were very frightening times, making a journey over unknown land to relatives he didn’t know.  He soon learned how to mask his feeling of trepidation, and invariably became quite adept at masquerading as the seasoned traveller he had been forced to become.  

“If’n ya don’t want comp’ny¾”  

“Vin,” Ezra paused, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Would you like to visit St Louis?” 

There was a prolonged silence between the pair.  Vin rubbed his rough chin and stared up at night sky.  He didn’t want to put Ezra in the position of feeling he had to invite him.  Well he did…but, he didn’t want Standish to figure that out.  “I dunno, Ezra…don’t want ta put ya out or nothin’…and if’n yer figurin’ on taking someone else¾”  

“Damn it, Tanner!” Standish cursed, thumping his fist down bench seat.   

The tracker smiled broadly at Ezra’s show of frustration.  It was so rare to see this side of the Southerner.  “Reckon I could come.” 

Ezra nodded with acceptance.  The tickets weren’t due to arrive until later in the week, that gave him a few days to convince Chris that he and Vin, and likely one other of the seven, would be departing Four Corners for several months.  Oh joy! 

“So who else ya gonna ask?”   

“I haven’t determined that as yet, although JD has made it very apparent that he’d be partial to come.”  Whomever he chose, the others left were bound to feel disappointed.  He wondered if Maude had been more suspect than he’d originally thought in providing him with only three tickets.  He wouldn’t put it past her to drive a wedge between their tight knit group.  Divide and Conquer?  He could have, if it hadn’t already become public knowledge, paid for another ticket, several others in fact, but thanks to JD, everyone in town knew he only had three tickets on offer.  He should never have disclosed the contents to Dunne. 

“How ya gonna decide?” 

Ezra threw back his head and laughed.  “I may resort to drawing the names out of a hat.” 

“That’ll work,” Tanner chuckled. 

Part 3 

Larabee dropped the front of the chair down on four legs, his eyes following the progression of a wagon being guided through town.  The lines deepened in his forehead as he recognised JD as the driver and his horse tagging along behind.  He spat the stub of the cheroot out, stamping it out as he stood.    

“Mr. Larabee,” JD waved, signalling the gunslinger to come over.  He stopped the vehicle in front of the jail. 

“Thought you and Buck were out on patrol?”  Where was Wilmington? 

“Hey, stud,” Wilmington elbowed himself higher in the wagon, grimacing as he did so and hugging his ribs.   

“What’s goin’ on?  You hurt, Buck?” 

“Not real bad,” he glared at Dunne’s snickering.  “Cinch snapped up on Bullet’s Pass.  Took a header part way down it.” 

Chris leaned over the sides of the wagon, checking for himself that Wilmington was not hurt badly.  “Anything broke?” 

“Nah.”  Don’t reckon the ribs are broke leastwise, probably just bruised. 

JD was sniffing back the tears of laugher.  “He landed on a cactus, got a whole bunch of needles in his¾” 

“JD,” Buck hissed, slapping his hat at Dunne and missing.  “Don’t want the whole flaming town ta know.” 

Chris grinned, shaking his head.  “Ya best get up ta Nathan’s, see what he can do.  This Nettie’s wagon?” 

“Yeah…I promised ta take it back.” 

“Vin can take it.  He’s goin’ out that way later.” 

“That’d be good, thanks,” JD sighed.   As much as he thought it was incredibly funny Buck having a backside full of cacti needles, he needed Nathan’s reassurance that Wilmington had escaped with only a few bruises and scratches.  He’d also taken a good blow to the head and been knocked out for twenty minutes before JD could rouse him.  That probably scared him the worst, but Buck had made light of it, saying he had a hard head and that he didn’t even have a headache. Not that Dunne believed at word of it. Even if it was the truth, the ladies’ man wasn’t going to be doing much more than lying down for the next week.  And he certainly wasn’t going to be up to riding. Or sitting.  But he’d probably find a way to take advantage of that. 

“Where’s Buck’s horse?” Chris asked JD. 

“Damn mule got spooked and took off after he tossed me,” Buck cursed. 

“This yer saddle?”  Chris hefted it from the wagon.  He examined the cinch suspiciously, expecting to find it sliced through, but it was frayed.  But someone who knew what they were doing could have easily made it look like that… Where had that thought come from? 

Wilmington saw Larabee fingering the strap.  “It broke, Chris.” 

Larabee shrugged, unsure of anything at the moment and unable to prove otherwise.  “I’ll go scout around for yer horse.  Ya go see Nathan.” 

“’Ppreciate it, Chris.” 

Part 4 

Larabee leaned over the railing, looking down on Josiah astride his big bay.  “Josiah?” 

Sanchez glanced up.  “Chris.  I’m gonna be gone for a few days…maybe a week, could be longer.”

Chris could read the worry in the preacher’s face and his impatience to leave.  “Where ya headed?” 

“Vista City…I can’t tell ya any more.” 

“Ya comin’ back?” 

“I’ll be back.”  Sanchez saluted and kneed his mount into motion. 

Chris Larabee paused on the clinic veranda, watching Josiah’s dust fade into the distance and grinned. He couldn’t have planned it better himself. He raised his knuckles to knock on the clinic door, but heard voices inside. JD was visiting with Buck, and their conversation had Chris listening at the closed door. 

“Ezra ain’t gonna ask me ever again,” JD complained. “I always wanted to visit St Louis…well lots of other places really, but we never had the money to spare when mama was alive.  And I really did want ta go.  It woulda been awesome!” 

“Ain’t no reason for ya to be stayin’.  ‘Specially on account of me.  Go.  Take Ezra up on the offer.”   

There was a long silence between the pair.  “I can’t,” JD sighed. He felt so guilty even thinking about leaving since Wilmington had been hurt.  But he also worried about not being able to go with Standish.  It was one friend or the other…how was he going to choose?  He’d figured if he went to St Louis, then no matter what happened between Ezra and his ma, JD would be able to convince the gambler to return.  Not that he’d told any of the others that.  And especially not Ezra.   “But what if Ezra decides ta stay on, and not come back?” 

“That why ya wanted ta go?  To make sure he came home.”  Buck leaned back on the pillows finding it hard to get comfortable.   

JD flushed at being so easy to predict. 

“Ain’t nothin’ ya can say to a man who’s already made up his mind.”  

“But if I was there¾” 

“Vin’s goin’.  Reckon he’ll be doin’ the same thing.” 

“JD.  Buck,” Chris Larabee greeted, choosing that moment to enter.   

“Howdy, Chris.” 

“Morning, Mr. Larabee.” 

“How ya doin’, Buck?” 

Wilmington grinned at his oldest friend.  “Just waitin’ on the ladies ta come visitin’.  Ya find my horse?” 

“Back at the livery, and he ain’t hurt.” 

“That’s good.  Thanks, Chris.” 

“I’ve got a job for ya, JD.”  Larabee had given this a great deal of thought…it couldn’t be anything too dangerous ¾ or Buck would be on his case, but it needed to keep JD interested and in town.  And Judge Travis had offered him the perfect solution. 

“Really?” Dunne asked excitedly.  It wasn’t often Chris chose him for a job.  “What do ya need me ta do?” 

“Travis’ niece is comin’ to town and he wants you to show her around… keep an eye on her… and keep her out of trouble.” 

“Ah Um…Well, I guess I could do that,” he mumbled a little uncertainly, looking to Wilmington in confusion. “That’s if Casey don’t mind.”    

Wilmington snorted.  “Hell, I’d be willin’ to sacrifice my health to look after the little filly, if yer not up to it.” 

“Shut-up, Buck!  He wasn’t asking you.  When’s she comin’?” 

“Beginning of next week.  You’ll be doing Travis a huge favour.” 

“Might be the prettiest little thing this side of the border,” Buck winked.   

“It is gonna mean you staying in town,” Larabee felt the necessity to point out. 

“Oh… I had told Ezra I was goin’ with him to…but this seems really important too…”  JD had momentarily forgotten about the trip in his excitement, but realised he also didn’t feel so cut up about it now.  The decision had been a difficult one for him to make and it eased his conscience having Chris make it for him.  Besides, what would he have done while Ezra and his ma were planning out all the details for the new casino?  He would have been left to his own devises.    “And the judge is payin’ me to protect the town, so I can hardly say no.”  There’d be another time – one big city was the same as another. 

“Well good.  Glad that’s settled.”  Now he needed to have a word in Vin’s ear…get the ball rolling more in his direction. 

“Thanks, Chris,” Buck mouthed over the top of JD’s head.  He hadn’t been that keen on Dunne travelling all the way to St Louis, without him being able to watch over the youth.  It was much better this way.   

Part 5 

Ezra squeezed the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes against the throbbing headache.  The pulsing beat of the locomotive rocked him sideways and the steady rumble echoed in his mind.  The carriage was shared exclusively by the three lawmen and was set up formally to cater to dining and sleeping.  It was spacious and pleasantly decorated and stationed at the rear of the train, only the engineer’s caboose was behind them.  Earlier they had been waited on and served a three-course dinner.  Maude had been very generous with the purchase of their first-class tickets.  That alone should have caused Ezra to ponder the offer more seriously.  Perhaps he had, but was so desperate for the offer to be true that he’d put aside his misgivings. 

Standish gazed unenthusiastically out the moving window, the scenery skipped rapidly by, not even filtering through his dark mood.  He despised being manipulated and had he not been so preoccupied he would have recognised a con when one was being played.  After all, he was a master at such deception.  And it irked him that Chris and Vin, had resorted to such tactics.   Standish passed an assessing gaze over his two companions.  Why had they been so adamant about coming?  Not that they directly came out and said as much, but they had gone to particular lengths to guarantee their inclusion.  The whole situation had him mystified.  And he was tired of waiting for their motives to be revealed. 

Vin had been Ezra’s first choice and then he’d approached JD about making the trip together.  He’d been content with his selections, until Buck’s untimely accident.  JD wouldn’t be budged from town until Wilmington was fully back on his feet, and Standish understood that entirely.  Then there was the mysterious niece of Travis, who JD had promised to escort around town and she wasn’t arriving until next week.  Ezra couldn’t wait that long.  Of course Buck was out of the question, with his delicate injury and then Josiah received word from the Nuns in Vista City.  He assumed that had something to do with his sister, Hannah.  Once again, Standish couldn’t counter fate.  The gambler had been content to allow the final ticket to not be redeemed.  After all, he didn’t need two travelling companions. But when Ezra had confronted Vin with the changes, the tracker had suggested Larabee joining them.   

“I know who’d like to come,” Vin had urged.  At Standish’s raised eyebrows the tracker continued.  “Chris…” 

Standish sighed in resignation.  “If you would like Mr. Larabee’s companionship, then by all means… please ask him.” 

“Nope!” Tanner had firmly resolved. “Gotta come from you.”   

Standish groaned at the prospect of inviting the sombre gunslinger.  There was no way in hell he was going to offer the third ticket to Chris Larabee!  He closed his eyes, recalling the conversation he’d then had with Chris in Four Corners.   

“Mr. Larabee,” Ezra began apprehensively.  He’d put off the inevitable for two days.  “Maude has seen fit to invite myself to St Louis to assist with the establishment of her new enterprise.  She has purchased a casino and requests a measure of my time to organise the new administration.  I realise that you probably consider her capable of managing this transaction without my presence; and she more than likely is,” he admitted ruefully, boasting a modicum of pride in his Mother.  “But, I would like to render my assistance in this instance.”  How often had Maude Standish asked for his opinion on anything, let alone requested his help?  He leaned rigidly against the post, unable to bring himself to meet the gunslinger in the eye.  “I would be absent for a month…perhaps two.”  Standish braved a quick look and was unsettled by Larabee’s intense scrutiny.  Ezra licked his bottom lip and pressed on.  “Mother has also generously supplied two additional fully paid fares from Ridge City to St Louis.”  As if Chris didn’t already know this.  Surely he’d heard the talk. 

Larabee had folded his arms and leaned back on the chair.  It seemed like minutes before the gunslinger replied and in that time Ezra had seen a multitude of emotions shift across the blond’s face.  “And?” he’d asked, as though bored with the whole affair. 

Standish deftly handed the remaining ticket to Chris.  Words had failed him; he couldn’t voice the request asking the gunman to join him, especially as he wasn’t certain why he was even offering it.  Vin was the one who wanted Larabee along, not him.   

Chris frowned at the slip of paper and brought his chair back down onto four legs with a jolt.  “Yer givin' it to me?” 

Ezra rubbed his hands together in discomfort and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  “Yes.” 

“Why?” he asked suspiciously. 

Standish threw his hands up in the air and retorted angrily; “If you don’t care to accept it, then I’ll offer it to¾” Who? “¾Someone else,” he finished feebly.  He made an abortive attempt to reclaim the train ticket. 

Larabee snatched it to his chest, surprising Ezra by the possessiveness.  “Vin’s goin’?”  Ezra nodded in confirmation.  “Reckon I’ll go too.  Need someone ta watch his back.” 

Standish bristled at the gunslinger’s off the wall remark.  It stung…the lack of faith was like a fist to the gut.  He was perfectly capable of protecting the tracker’s back and had every intention of doing that.   

But was there more to Chris’ subterfuge than met the eye? Ezra suspected so.  And it was Vin who suggested inviting Larabee along.  So why had Standish agreed? He couldn’t even answer that question. He certainly didn’t need Larabee along, but there had been a determination to Tanner’s request that had prompted him to do so.  And he had acquiesced.  It stood to reason that they would want to protect each other’s backs; after all, Larabee and Tanner were close friends.   

Ezra watched Chris and Vin arguing good-naturedly over a game of checkers. He had no reason to resent Larabee and Tanner their unique bond, but he felt alienated by it.  They had been, thus far, enjoying their journey.  The stage ride from Four Corners, and the single night that they’d stayed in Ridge City, and now the train.  Larabee, in particular had been relaxed, and smiling more often.  Pity Ezra’s own mood wasn’t as light.   He couldn’t explain why he was so uncomfortable with the situation. But there was a persistent feeling of dread that resided in his gut and he couldn’t put his finger on it.   

But it was definitely there.   

Part 6 

Chris Larabee picked up the counter and jumped it over two of Tanner’s men.  He grinned slyly, daring the tracker to challenge him.  With an exaggerated slowness, he removed Vin’s counters off the board and dumped them on a growing pile in front of him.  “Ain’t got many left.” 

“Only need one ta whip yer ass, cowboy.”   

Chris bristled at the use of the word cowboy, but let the remark slide – for now.  “Ain’t gonna have even the one left soon, Tanner.” 

Vin stared at the board for a full minute, contemplating his next move.  He winked, and a lazy grin spread over his features.  Picking up the red disk, Vin jumped it over two of his opponent’s men, finishing on the opposite side of the board.  “Crown me!” he whooped, scooping his captives off the board and leaving Larabee with four discs.  “Still reckon yer gonna win?” 

“Ain’t finished yet,” Chris growled, sliding his counter to another square. 

The tracker pursed his lips in concentration, frowning when he realised he’d have to forfeit one of his counters to make another move.  He rubbed his hand over his jaw while he weighed up all the possibilities. 

“He’s awful quiet, ain’t he?” Chris nodded in the Southerner’s direction. 

Tanner turned in his seat and glanced at the reclining gambler and wondered what was going through his mind.  “Yeah.  He ain’t hardly said a word since we left Four Corners, and he’s said even less since we’ve got on this train.  Ya don’t reckon there is more to his visitin’ Maude than he’s made out?” 

“Reckon there’s a whole lot more goin’ on than any of us knows.”  Yet.   

“What cha chinwaggin’ about, Larabee?” 

Chris shrugged, not willing to voice his notion of unease.  The same gut gripping awareness he’d had for the last number of days.  “Nothin’ I know f’r sure.  No need ta worry Ezra, though.”   

“I ain’t about ta tell Ezra how ya conned him out of that ticket.” 

“Strange as it is…I reckon he already knows.  I can’t figure why he went along with it so easy.” 

“Maybe he don’t know…” 

Chris arched his eyebrows in a speculative manner.  “Nope…he knows.” 

Tanner shrugged.  He didn’t see anything wrong with Maude’s invite, but there was no telling what the older con-woman was capable of doing when she set her mind to it.  “We gonna let him brood all the way there?” 

------- 

Standish watched as the two peacekeepers abandoned the checker game and pushed back their chairs.  He’d seen the circumspect glances in his direction and gathered they’d been discussing him.  “It appears as if my introspection has come to an end,” he muttered. “Gentlemen,” he drawled, stretching in the cushioned seat and sitting straighter.  “How was your game?” 

Tanner dropped down on the seat beside him.  “Reckon we called it quits.” 

“Tanner was losing.”    

Vin shot a dark look of annoyance at the gunslinger, but Chris ignored it.  “Ya been awful quiet.” 

“That’s not what I’m usually accused of,” he answered with a grin.  Damn!  Had he been that transparent? 

“We ain’t accusin’ ya of anythin’,” Vin was quick to defend. 

Standish licked his bottom lip and studied his companions thoughtfully.  “A poor choice of words.  My apologies.” 

“Figured ya might want ta join us,” Larabee asked. 

“That is a very generous offer, but three-sided checkers seems a little too unmanageable.”  Vin elbowed him in the ribs, pushing him against the carriage wall.  “Mr. Tanner,” he admonished. 

Tanner chuckled.  “Ya gonna deal some cards?” 

Ezra glanced from Tanner to Larabee and back to the tracker.  Were they serious?  Only one way to find out.  He might even get some answers to those questions that had been bothering him.  An amused gleam entered his eyes and a deceptive grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.  “And the stakes would be?” 

The gunslinger sighed loudly, but Vin thrust a handful of peanuts onto the seat between them.  “Peanuts!” he smirked, throwing one high in the air and catching it in his mouth. 

Ezra groaned.  “Good Lord!”  Vin slapped him on the back and returned to the table, clearing off the checkerboard.  “I’m surrounded by Neanderthals.” 

“Poor Neanderthals,” Chris tossed back. 

Part 7 

Chris woke with a start, his breath catching in his throat and forcing him to swallow the painful lump to keep from uttering a noise.  His heart drummed loudly in his ears and his forehead glazed over with perspiration; he wondered what it was that had woken him.  Glancing about the carriage, in the subdued lighting, he could barely make out the sleeping forms of Tanner and Standish.  But both men were sound asleep; it could not have been them.  The fine hairs at the back of his neck stood up on end, and it was with effort he held his breath, straining to hear anything unusual within the carriage. 

Larabee dropped his hand over the edge of the long couch; his fingers crawled along the floor until they curled around his Peacemaker.  He palmed the cold metal and rested it on his chest, circling his thumb on the hammer in anticipation and emitting a chilling click in the dead quiet.  Slowly the gunslinger slid off the makeshift bed and crouched, his shoulders tense and muscles prepared to spring into action, all his senses heightened and on alert.  He moved stealthily around the cabin in the darkness, his bare feet silent on the panelled boards.   “Vin,” he hissed, following it quickly by calling the gambler’s name. 

Vin, never a heavy sleeper, blinked back the wash of sleep instantly snapped open his eyes coming immediately alert.  The click of gun metal followed by Chris’ call woke him. He cautiously slipped of his bed.  The rumble of the carriage groaned and swayed as he eased from the sleeping booth.  He tapped the slumbering gambler on the arm as he dropped past Ezra’s booth.  “Chris?” he whispered into the darkness, curiously alarmed at the silence that returned.   Tanner sought his sawn off Winchester and made a scan of the poorly lit room. 

Ezra awoke more slowly, sluggishly pushing back the covers and the last vestiges of sleep.  He rubbed roughly at his face and winced at the grit that had lodged in the corners of his eyes.  He felt, rather than saw, Tanner move around the ornate carriage, and sat up straining his eyesight to fathom why he’d been awakened.  “Vin?”  Why had the tracker woken him?  Resting back on his elbows, the Southerner studied the gently swaying carriage.  He was on the verge of returning to his pillow when he heard a crash and reacted instantly, bolting from the bed.   

“Vin?” he called more urgently.  Standish frowned; he wasn’t alarmed, but certainly concerned as to why Vin had not answered.  Using his hands as a guide Ezra shuffled toward the source of the crash.   “Chris?” he called softly, wondering why the gunman hadn’t joined in the search.  “Gentlemen?” he hissed, anxious for any reply.  A knot formed in his stomach, wondering momentarily if the two lawmen were foxing with him, and for what purpose.  His insecurities gained momentum ¾ had this been the ultimate scheme?  “Gentlemen, this is far from amusing.” 

The skin on his bare chest quivered as a blast of night air met his flesh.  He spun quickly, startled by the gust of wind inside the carriage and in his haste tripped over an obstacle on the floor.  With a grunt, his leg twisted under him and Ezra landed with a thump, knocking his knee on the timber floor and catching his chin on the object.    

Part 8 

“Damn!”  

“Yep,” Tanner grunted, wincing beneath the Southerner.  “C’n say that again, pard.  Get off me.”  

The carriage erupted into a deceptive daylight, causing both lawmen to shield their eyes from the flare of light. 

“Ya’ll right?” Chris grinned at the tangled pair on the carriage floor. 

“Yep.”  

“Marvellous.” 

“Ya got somethin’ on yer mind, Chris?” Tanner asked, climbing to his feet and rubbing at his chest, which had taken the brunt of Standish’s weight. 

Larabee glanced about the carriage; it appeared exactly the same as it had when they turned out the light a few hours ago.  He coughed, chagrined at his vigilance.  A flush rose on his cheeks and he reluctantly uncocked the hammer of his Colt.  “Reckon it was just my imagination,” he grimaced sheepishly.  Though a moment ago, his suspicions had been raised and it was with great effort he pushed aside these feelings. 

“And what, pray tell, did your mind, conjure up?” the gambler asked, a dimpled grin spread widely showing he was plainly amused by Larabee’s discomfit.   If he was going to be woken from his beauty sleep, he may as well hear the reasons behind the interruption. 

Larabee ran his fingers through his hair, brushing the blond locks off his face. He flushed uncomfortably under their scrutiny.  They would think he was losing his edge if he told them.  But what if it was real?  He stole a glance about the railcar, searching for a reasonable explanation. “Reckon it was nothin’.  Thought I heard the door openin’,” he muttered.  Could have been dreaming it, he reasoned, though the explanation didn’t sit well with the gunman.  Both Vin and Ezra immediately glanced in the direction of the doors at either end of the carriage.  Attempting to lighten the mood and shake off the chill he tried to divert their attention.  “What were ya both doing lyin’ on the floor?”  

“Mr. Tanner was laying in ambush¾”  

“He tripped over me,” Tanner chuckled. 

“A little warning wouldn’t have gone astray,” Ezra rebuked.  “What were you doing on the floor?” 

The grin disappeared from Vin’s face and he looked suspiciously at Chris.  “Reckon I was pushed,” he hesitantly admitted, wondering if it had been Larabee’s idea of a joke. 

Chris frowned; noticing the wary look the tracker was giving him.  “Yer sure?  ‘Cause it weren’t me.”  He looked at Standish and the gambler quickly shook his head.  This seemed to give more credence to his theory that the door was opened.  He crossed to the door and turned the handle ¾ it was locked from the inside.  “Ezra, want to check the other one?”

“It appears to be likewise engaged.” 

“Reckon it’s nothin’ to worry over.  Might as well get some more shuteye,” Chris suggested, picking up the blanket that was bundled up at the end of his bed.  Not that he’d get anymore.  Let the others rest up, no sense worrying them ¾ yet.  But someone had been inside their cabin, and for whatever reason he didn’t know.  It might have only been the steward, but wouldn’t he have knocked on the door or turned up the lamp.  Or apologised for knocking a passenger over?  And why hadn’t Chris heard him leave?  Both Ezra and Vin were awake by then, why hadn’t they heard anything?  And the doors were still locked, too.  It would be best to leave further investigation until daylight, then he could give the carriage a thorough going over.   

Standish remained unmoved.  Did he dare add his impressions?  Would Tanner and Larabee believe him?  They were returning to their bunks; he needed to act now if he was going to say anything.  “I experienced… a squall.” 

“A what?” Vin mouthed to Chris. 

“Wind.” 

Vin snorted.  “Reckon it coulda felt like that when ya were fallin’ over me.”  

“In this instance I can’t agree,” the Southerner argued, “as it occurred before I encountered you, Vin.” 

Chris was beginning to get a bad feeling and the uncertainty was gnawing at his gut.  But there was not a thing that could be done now.  Nothing had been taken, nothing disturbed and nobody was hurt.  He glanced from Tanner to Standish; they both watched him in return, waiting for him to come to a decision. With a pessimistic sigh he looked grimly at the carriage door.  “Hell! Ya’ll a bunch of girls.”  He shook his head in mock disgust.  If it were going to appease them, then Chris would open the carriage door and prove that there was nothing, nefarious, as Ezra would say, beyond their cabin.  They didn’t need to know that he was feeling the same way.  Larabee shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, and reached for the handle.  He hesitated a fraction, but gripped the latch firmly.  “Ain’t gonna find nothin’.” 

The key turned crudely in the lock and the gunslinger pulled it open with a rush.  The action caused an influx of midnight air inside the railcar and the steady pulse of the engine vibrated loudly.  Larabee stepped out on the siding, a smug grin completing his expression.  “Take a look.”  Vin tilted the lantern, shining its meagre light through the opening.  “Nothin’ here,” Chris claimed, stepping back inside the carriage and closing the door triumphantly.  “Ya want to check the other one, Ezra.” 

“Of course.”  The faint smile vanished as the gambler threw the door open.  He stumbled backward and gasped, symbolically crossing himself.  “Good Lord!”  

Part 9 

“Hell!” Tanner stepped up behind Standish and dropped a hand on his shoulder.  Vin felt the gambler tense and gently squeezed.  “That ain’t good.” 

“That’s an understatement,” Ezra drawled, attempting to keep the rising bile under control.  This was the last thing he had expected. Or wanted.  Or needed.  

“Reckon this is what woke ya, cowboy.” 

“No shit,” Larabee growled, staring at the grossly disfigured corpse that hung pitifully at the end of a noose.  “Neck-tie party.”  And it hadn’t been out here earlier. Chris knew this for certain because he’d stepped outside onto the platform and had a smoke not long before they turned out the lights.  He frowned, looking past the body.  Where was the final caboose? -  The engineer’s railcar.  When had it been disconnected? “Caboose has gone.” 

“Pardon?” Standish questioned.  Surely Larabee was jesting? “How does a twenty ton piece of monstrosity just vanish?”   

“Uncoupled,” Tanner shrugged.  That was the least of their problems at the moment.  “How ya s’pose he got there?” And who was the poor wretch?  God he hoped that neither Chris nor Ezra personally knew the victim.  He glanced at both men suddenly worried, but neither showed any signs of recognition and Vin felt somewhat relieved.  But why hadn’t they heard anything?  He was a light sleeper and so was Chris; even Ezra at times.  Surely they should have heard something! Dragging a body around atop a train carriage ain’t silent work. But they had slept through it all until Larabee had roused them, and by then it was too late.   

Chris shrugged.  He’d been wondering the same thing.  The body twisted on the rope, swinging with the rocking motion of the train.  “He’s been flogged, and all his fingers have been hacked off at the second joint.”  Bare feet dangled above a large pool of blood.  “That blood looks fresh.” 

Tanner hunkered down and examined the pool.  “It is.”  What Larabee hadn’t noticed was that a copper coin lay in the pool; Tanner picked it out and wiped it on the victim’s trousers and slipped it in his pocket.  He stood back up and gingerly patted down the body.  “Ain’t his, though.” 

“How do you come to that conclusion, Mr. Tanner?” 

“He’s been dead for a while…it’s prob’ly animal blood.” 

“Charming. Did you discover anything else?” Standish inquired, wondering what Vin had placed in his pocket.   

“Nah,” Vin lied, his face flushed as he was unable to successfully deceive.  He turned away, and neither man commented further. 

Ezra stared at Tanner’s back.  What was he hiding?  “Someone has gone to a vast amount of bother to set up this display,” Standish concluded, attempting to draw on Tanner’s expertise.   

“Yeah,” Chris agreed.  “But why?”  He noticed that Standish had turned an unhealthy shade of grey, and the tracker also looked decidedly unwell. He didn’t blame them; he was feeling queasy, too.  “There’s a killer on board, and I don’t aim on lettin’ the bastard escape.”  They couldn’t possibly go onto St Louis now. It was likely that the three lawmen would even be considered suspects.  And he had no intention of letting a pock-faced railway inspector or the local hick sheriff take over the investigation and make a mess of it.    “Would appreciate ya boys sticking around ta help.” 

“Was plannin’ on it,” Vin agreed. 

Standish shrugged his shoulders up and sighed.  What choice did he have? 

Chris rubbed the nape of his neck.  This trip was beginning to give him the chills!  “Let’s get him down.  Ezra, get some blankets ta wrap him in.” They couldn’t leave him hanging like that. 

“Do you suspect there is some significance as to why his eyes have been removed?” 

“Prob’ly done b’fore he died…cause more pain.”  Like the fingers…probably removed them one at a time. 

“Ezra…the blankets,” Larabee prompted.   

“I can take a gander around top,” Tanner suggested. 

“NO!” Chris snapped.  “As soon as it’s daylight ya can take a look.”   

Vin shrugged.  “Come on, Ezra.” He pushed the compliant man down on the lower bunk and picked up the burgundy jacket that lay at the end of the bed.  He riffled through the pocket until he discovered Standish’s flask.  “Here, have some of this.” 

“Thank you,” Ezra mumbled, swallowing down a mouthful and absently handing it back.    “It’s happening again, isn’t it, Vin?” 

The Texan took a generous sip from the flask and glanced up, meeting Larabee’s assessing gaze.  Unable to answer, he thrust the woollen jacket at the gambler.  “Put this on, huh?”  He grinned wryly as Ezra reached for his shirt and buttoned it up before donning the coat. 

“This ain’t the same,” Larabee decreed.  This could not be the result of the sadistic animal that had stalked them at his cabin six months ago.  Could it?  But he’d been feeling awful tense lately.  He’d thought Vin and Ezra had sensed it, too.  It was this same feeling of uneasiness that had prompted Larabee to force Standish’s hand into inviting him along.  He’d had a gut feeling something sinister was going to occur on this trip. 

Ezra eyed him dubiously, but didn’t refute the claim. He stood, picking up a blanket.  He didn’t fancy sharing the room with a dead body. “How do you suggest we remove the…cadaver?”  And where were they going to put it? 

“Get down!”  Larabee threw his body at the younger men, knocking them to the floor as the first window exploded inwards.  Shattered glass flew around the carriage.  The row of windows along one side erupted one after another, showering the room with splintered shards.  Chris felt the warm trickle of blood run from his hairline into his left eye and the sting associated with it.  “Keep down!”  He covered his head as best he could, holding his breath as he waited for the final crash.  It was all over within thirty seconds.  “Either of ya hurt?”  

“I don’t believe so.” 

“Nope.” Tanner answered, cautiously shaking off pieces of glass. 

Larabee made a dash to slam the door closed.  Forget the damn corpse!  He planned on staying alive and right now his life, Vin and Ezra’s were more important than securing a dead body.  And the killer was still right outside!  “What the fuck was that?”  Chris leant solidly against the carriage door, breathing hard.  His Colt was nestled readily in his hands.  He noticed, with relief, that both Vin and Ezra had also drawn their weapons.  “Stay down,” he hissed.  “And find some cover.”  He was half expecting the windows on the opposite side to go next. 

“What do ya reckon is goin’ on, cowboy?” Vin studied the carriage roof hoping to hear a telltale sign, something to suggest how many they were up against.  He desperately wanted to hear something, anything that would convince him that it was a mortal man that was attacking them, rather than…something else.  

“Dunno…Can ya’ll see anythin’ out there?” 

Tanner cautiously sat up on his knees, taking a closer inspection of the carriage.  “Reckon he’s gotta be up there.”  Without warning Vin pumped his sawn-off Winchester and shot several holes though the roof.   

All eyes glanced upwards, waiting for a sign that the killer had been hit.  The rattle of the engine ploughed on through the night.  They waited, but nothing changed. 

Standish blew out a stream of breath and sighed.  “How do you explain that each window fractured one after the other?” Ezra drawled, stepping up to the bank of broken panes in search of a reasonable explanation.  Glass crunched under the heels of his boots as he leaned out one of the windows. 

“Ezra, get the hell away from there!” Chris barked, grabbing the Southerner roughly by his jacket and hauling him backwards.  “Ya asking ta get shot?” 

“Couldn’t see anything, if you were wondering,” he smirked, overwhelmed that Larabee was concerned enough for his welfare to haul his ass back to safety. 

“Damn fool,” Larabee mumbled.  “Ya want to end up like the crowbait out there?” 

A glib repartee died on his lips.  Standish frowned.  “The train is reducing speed.”

Part 10 

“He’s right.”  The sounds of the engine were becoming less noticeable; they were indeed, slowing down.  “What do ya reckon is goin’ on, Chris?”   

Larabee joined Tanner at the doorway already forgetting the reasons to stay low.   “Reckon we’re¾” The remainder of the gunslinger’s words were cut off as an almighty jolt struck their carriage.  Chris fell hard against Tanner, and they almost fell out the door.  “Vin! Hold on!” The carriage wobbled on the rails for several moments, but eventually righted itself, allowing Chris to pull Vin back inside.  Once the carriage was settled on the track it started to pick up speed, and as it gathered momentum it rolled backwards down the slope. 

“We’ve been uncoupled,” Tanner shouted above the roar.  The front half of the train continued on into the night, unaware that the final carriage had been disconnected.   

“Shit!” Larabee hissed crawling to his knees.  He glanced about the disorder of the carriage and firmly rose off the floor.  His gut wheezed strangely with the uncontrolled backward pull and he wobbled ungainly with the increased momentum.  “Grab a hold of somethin’.”  This could only get worse! 

The gentle slope the train had been hauling up was their starting point. Uncoupled from the main train the carriage drifted onwards for a short spell, but with each turn of the wheels the carriage fell further behind the train.  For a pause the railcar rested in contemplation until the pull of gravity tugged on the vehicle.  Then the heavy iron carriage careened backwards down the tracks, its speed increasing, and rocking violently out of control towards the gully.   

“We have ta jump,” Vin shouted. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Standish retorted.  Jumping from a horse was one thing, but from a wayward railcar?  Perhaps if it wasn’t moving… 

“Cowboy, we gotta get off here,” Vin appealed to the gunslinger. 

Larabee slipped, landing hard on his thigh.   “We stay here.”  Surely it was safer inside? 

The high-speed carriage whined, groaning and shuddering against the buffeting winds. The squeal of metal grating on the rail tracks whistled through the broken windows, along with the hush of the dawning day.  Eventually the ground levelled beneath the stampeding railcar, but the track wound sharply to the left.  The curve in the rail, although quite manageable when the engine pulled the cavalcade of carriages, became a hazard for the rampaging railcar.  With no brakes to control the backward descent, it hit the concave bend with an almighty jolt. Instead of rounding the corner and coming to a natural deceleration it hit the edge and broke away from the rails, forging a new path.  Inside the carriage, the three lawmen were tossed and thrown about carelessly. 

For a full minute as the vehicle hurtled in midair, the whining and groaning ceased and an eerie silence took over.  It was never going to last.  The flight of the heavy carriage came to an abrupt end when it nosedived into the soft earth.   

The resounding thump jolted the occupants inside again, shifting loose objects that had been bolted to the floor, tossing boxes, tables and other furniture and careening them all to one end, collecting in a mismatched jumble.  The thrust from the backward drive carried it on, ploughing up the top layer of grass and dirt and causing a huge drift of scored earth behind.  It finally came to rest with a creak and strain of shifting metal, splinted timber and broken objects settling into new positions.   

Three bodies lay beneath the pile of debris.