Setting: OW
As the week progressed, Vin Tanner made considerable progress. After hearing Chris's plan, his primary focus was getting his strength back. The quickest way between two points is a straight line, so that's what he did. He towed that line, taking all Nate's medicine, sleeping for hours, eating good and with J.D.'s help, taking walks. The Kid was the easiest to bend, and it hadn't taken much for Vin to convince him. So every afternoon, J.D. helped Vin get his legs back, without Nathan's knowledge of course. Today he walked from the bed out of the room and down the hall, before his legs gave out. J.D. helped him get back to bed. He was still dripping in sweat from his labored efforts, when the youth left and Chris dropped by. Vin's eyes were closed as he basked in the glow of his achievement, wearing a sly grin.
Chris paused in the doorway and wondered about that drunken grin. The tracker was stretched out on the bed, but he was sitting up with his back to the wall. Chris narrowed his eyes and poured the panting man a mug of water. He took the chair next to Vin and watched as one eye peeled open. He handed Vin the mug and watched as every drop was quickly drained.
"What's with the shit-eating-grin?" Chris asked, lighting a cheroot.
"The wisest man is not always the most ingenious." Vin crowed proudly, raising an eyebrow at the scowling blond beside him.
"That's it... your lunchtime reading sessions with Ezra are over." Chris responded to the chesire grin.
"I had me a vision..." Vin boldly proclaimed, enjoying himself.
"Sounds more like you had a peyote party," the gunslinger noted of the hallucinogenic plant.
"Ya got some?" Vin's voice rose and his eyes danced in mischief.
"You worry me, Cowboy." Chris chuckled, taking a draw on his cheroot. "Why you all lathered up?"
"Gettin' ready." Vin replied, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He batted away Chris's arm and pushed off the edge.
"Vin..." Chris warned, but didn't make an attempt to stop his determined friend. He followed beside the smaller man, as he slowly crossed the room, refilled his mug and wobbled back, before collapsing on the bed. He saw the flush of daring appear and shook his head, realizing just what the wheels cranking inside the curly head were doing.
"No."
"It ain't yer call."
"The hell it isn't," Chris bristled, his eye flashing, "A week ago you damn near died on me. I thought we were square on this. It's about justice, not vengeance."
"I need t'do this, Chris," Vin said softly. "I know the plan and I'm goin', with ya or after ya."
"You're not strong enough, Vin," Chris argued, worried about the calm demeanor. "We got a lot of ground to cover."
"I ain't stupid, Chris, don't talk down t'me!" Vin sassed, eyes hot, "I ain't gettin' that fever back. I worked hard all week and it paid off."
Chris stared hard at the heaving chest and the sweat rolling down the Texan's face. He walked to the window and looked at the horizon. Colt, Josiah and Buck had been keeping close tabs on Hazzard, while Ezra and J.D. kept an eye on Carpenter. Ezra found out that the lawyer had been sending wires north all week and that he'd bought a long list of items from the General Store. He ordered merchandise that would be required for the suspected trip. With a sly tongue and a generous amount of whiskey, Ezra managed to pry the bank clerk's lips loose during a poker game. The property that Hazzard was renovating, was sold back to the bank.
"It's not just your hide I'm thinking of."
"Ya know me better than that, Chris," Vin's low growl startled the blond into turning back into the room, "I'd never risk any of yer necks, I ain't that stupid." He paused and eyed the somber face, "If they agree?"
Chris thought for a moment and gave consent. "If you're coming to dinner with us, you need a bath." He agreed, walking over to the pile of clothes stacked on the spare bed. Rummaging through, he selected what he needed and waited by the door.
"Ya sayin' I stink?" Vin asked, standing and heading for the door.
"I'm still downwind of you, that should tell you what kind of friend I am," Chris shot back, grabbing the weaving body's elbow.
"If you intend to doze, perhaps we should hold our meeting in your bedroom."
"I ain't sleepin', Ezra," Vin rasped, peeling a single eye open to glare at the southerner seated next to him in the saloon, "...was restin' m'eyes is all."
"I distinctly heard a snore," Ezra accused, shifting his body so Vin would have more room.
"Yeah, and you were drooling a little too," J.D. offered, grinning broadly as Vin swiped the side of his lip.
"Anythin' else?" Vin huffed, glaring at Josiah and Nathan who were grinning as well.
"Where the hell is Buck?" Chris grumbled, standing at the bar.
"He was uh... tied up." Josiah played the role of diplomat. "He might be awhile."
"Oh that's just great," J.D. complained, "Whatever happened to business before pleasure?"
"Mr. Wilmington's pleasure is his business," Ezra oozed, not hiding his admiration. "His selfless endeavor to ascertain information from the lovely lady," he said of Vanessa, Hazzard's soon-to-be unemployed maid, "is commendable."
"Oh, I'm gonna be sick," J.D. rolled his eyes as Josiah and Nathan chuckled.
"Reckon we can order now," Vin yawned, winced, rubbed his sore shoulder and sat up. "He's here..."
"Where?" Nate peered above the batwing doors. The drinkery was nearly empty as sundown approached. "I don't see 'im."
"Vin you're not even facing the door," J.D. argued, "You couldn't see him even if he was there."
"Don't need m'eyes... " Vin yawned again and lifted his head. "Yup," he sniffed, "Just enough breeze t'get a whiff."
"You're full of shit, Vin!" J.D. tossed a peanut at the sharpshooter, who snagged it in midair with his free hand.
"Ya wanna lay some silver on it?" Vin challenged and scoffed as the coins hit the table. "Like robbin' a blind man."
"Afternoon boys!" A voice boomed several minutes later.
"Damn!" Nathan laughed with Vin, as the younger man pulled his bounty in.
"Hey Vin!" Buck slapped the tracker's back and saw the pile of coins. "Ezra let you win?"
"Hell no," Vin boasted, "Weren't no card game, won a bet."
"Yeah? What kind of bet?" Buck winked at the fleshy saloon girl who appeared from the kitchen doorway, "Hey Darlin, how about a beer for Old Buck?"
"Comin' right up, Sugar." She smiled suggestively and slung her hips over to the bar.
"Well?" Buck eased his body into the vacant chair next to the injured Texan, who immediately wrinkled his nose.
"That boy is half hound dog," Josiah decided, lifting his beer.
"That's what done it," Nate agreed, taking a handful of peanuts.
"You mean?" Buck's eyes narrowed as they bore into the tracker's. The nose wrinkled again and Buck's famous grin appeared. "You're full of shit, Vin. Chris stinks better than me... probably him you smelled."
"Thanks Buck," Chris added, still perched at the bar.
"Chris ain't been pokin' today." Vin frowned, "Iffen I don't eat soon, I'm likely t'pass out."
"Damn you're good, Vin." Nate laughed, watching the stunned look on Wilmington's face. The smile was fighting hard to stay unborn, until Vin peeked sideways at Buck and wiggled his eyebrows. That did it, and Buck's booming laughter exploded.
"A true gentlemen doesn't dine amongst others, until he takes a bath," Vin crowed, turning to the southerner, "Ain't that right, Ezra?"
"What the hell would you know about being a gentlemen?" Buck laughed, smacking Vin's leg.
"I've been enlightening Vin during our midday meals," Ezra replied, getting a collective groan as Vin nodded smugly.
"You start wearing funny coats and I'm gonna have to shoot your other arm," Buck warned. The saloon girl appeared with Buck's beer and took their dinner order. As the others decided who was buying the next round, Buck studied the weary lines on Vin's gaunt face. His eyes saw the looseness of the shirt hanging on the thin frame and heard the slight force in his breathing. "How you doing, Tanner?" he asked quietly and saw the younger's mans lip curve upward.
"I'm okay, Marshal," Vin replied, sipping his beer.
"You bribe Nate?" he asked and saw the curly head lift.
"Nah, J.D.'s been helpin' me get m'legs back. I had me a vision..."
"Don't go there, Vin..." Chris warned with a smile, which broadened with the tracker's soft laughter.
"Vision?" Ezra's eyes narrowed.
"I know the plan," Vin's smile disappeared and his eyes grew serious in their intent. "I'm fixin' on doin' 'im."
"Hazzard?" J.D. coughed, wiping the beer foam from his lips.
"No, President Grant," Vin rolled his eyes.
"Vin, walkin' over here to eat supper is one thing," Nate warned, "But we got a hard day's work ahead. You're not strong enough."
"Best ya listen up," Vin's voice cut the air, "I'm only sayin' this once. Took a few chances with m'own neck in the past," he paused and eyed each face, "I'd never be fool enough t'risk yers... never. I'm ready and I'm goin'"
Nate took his eyes from Vin's determined face to Chris's studied one. That look told him that the leader had already agreed. He watched as Vin eyed each face and got the slight nod. When those blue eyes stared at him, he paused. "You start peakin' and I'm pullin' you off that horse."
"Won't happen." Vin promised, drilling the dark eyes until they gave consent.
"Good. Let's eat."
"Exactly where in the plan have you placed yourself?" Ezra wondered.
"Told ya," Vin said, lifting a healthy spoonful of beef stew. "I'm doin' 'im."
"Nobody would like to see that more than me, Vin." Chris stated, cutting his steak, "That part of the job requires both hands."
Vin paused, furrowed his brows, chewed and swallowed his stew, then shook his head. "Nope. I can do 'im."
"You're good, Vin," Buck argued, "But not that good. You need both hands to..."
"Never said wouldn't be two hands bein' used," Vin shoveled in another mouthful and stole Buck's biscuit. "That fucker'll be shittin' his pants by then anyhows..."
"He's right," Ezra's slow smile appeared over his ham steak, "Sometimes what one cannot see is far more frightening that reality."
"I get it..." J.D. nodded, "After we drag him off the horse, we blindfold him. He wouldn't have to see Vin's hands."
"Ya go easy on the Redeye tonight, Cowboy," Vin lifted his eyes to the cool green one's across from him. "Can't afford t'lose yer temper and bust yer hand."
Chris's smile started slowly and spread easy, like syrup on griddle cakes. "It'll be a pleasure," he snarled, accepting Vin's invite.
"Hey, I didn't get a biscuit," Buck protested, eyeing his plate. He turned at J.D.'s snicker and frowned, "What are you laughing at?"
"You're getting old Buck," the youth shook his head and plowed through his stew.
Buck's eyes turned the other way and he saw telltale crumbs on Vin's blue sling. "Goddammit Vin!" He smacked the tracker's good arm lightly and grinned in evil pleasure as his booming voice caused the younger man to cough a mouthful of stew up. "Serves you right!"
Josiah listened to the music gracing his ears and smiled, raising his eyes towards the darkening blue sky outside the door. "Lord, we give thanks for all the gifts you've bestowed upon us today."
He caught Vin's eyes and nodded, sending his own silent message, which the tracker absorbed and allowed the emotion to shine through his sky eyes.
"Just pick one, Vin." Chris hissed, eyeing the ribs showing on Vin's naked chest. The tracker cocked his head and eyed the display on the bed.
"Patience is a virtue," Vin chirped, finally selecting a red section of cloth, for a sling, among the many colors laid out.
"Don't go Ezra on me, Cowboy," Chris grunted, easing Vin's injured arm into a blue chambray shirt and waiting until the other arm was ready. He watched Vin button up with one hand, then, "Red suspenders?" the blond frowned, seeing Vin pick up them up.
"Ezra got me whole bunch in different colors," Vin replied, "So's I won't clash with m'slings."
"I might just beat Buck to that bullet," he noted of the rogue's threat. He attached the suspenders and carefully placed Vin's arm in the sling, then waited for the hissed breathing and tight jaw to ease up. "You sure about this?"
"Yeah," Vin sighed, "Where's m'holster?"
"You can't shoot."
"Hazzard don't know that. Get m'gun... I know ya brung it." He waited until Chris pulled the mare's leg from the shelf in the closet.
Chris watched Vin's eyes shine when he buckled the leather holster on the slim hips. He shoved a hat on the unruly long hair and moved to the door. He stopped suddenly, causing Vin to collide with him.
"Dammit, Chris..." Vin snarled, rubbing the injured shoulder which made contact with Larabee's arm.
"Sorry," Chris winced and slid past his friend. He moved back to the bed, where his saddlebags where laid out. He'd planned on packing up their things, while the others ate breakfast. That way, they'd be loaded and ready to ride at the meal's end. His hand slid inside the bag and took out the deep blue cloth. He ran his thumb over the edges, recalling the empty void he'd felt that day when he rode into town, before he purchased it. He walked back towards Vin and placed the new kerchief around the baffled man's neck.
"Ya didn't hafta get me nothin'" Vin paused and saw the flicker of pain in Chris's eyes. His own eyes darted as his mind shifted in time, to the harmonica player whose soul was bared and raw on the boardwalk. He blinked and saw the tuft of blue fabric clutched in that soloist's hands, when he was sprawled on the ground. He jerked his head and swallowed hard, fingering the blue cloth, whose value now became priceless. "Thanks, Chris"
"Ezra doesn't have the market on style." Chris moved past Vin and through the open door.
Vin's eagle eyes noted the clenched jaw and hard green eyes. Too many painful memories of what had nearly been lost lingered there. He moved slowly, pacing himself and saw the rigid muscles of Chris's back through his shirt.
"Ya know Chris," Vin teased, grabbing the railing and slowly descending the stairs, with Larabee in front of him. "This is real purty and all, but nothin' says I care like a new rifle."
"Messing with peyote again?" Chris smiled, hustling the chuckling tracker towards the dining room.
"Damn Vin," Buck boomed, rising to shuffle the chairs around so the injured man would be on the end. "You look pretty enough to eat." He winked and eyed the new clothes his friend wore.
"Told ya before, Bucklin," Vin rasped, easing into the chair and breathing heavily for a few seconds, "Ya can't afford me."
"Eat up," Chris ordered, "We got a good stretch of road to cover."
"I didn't hear a chorus of 'Thank you, Bucks' yet." the rogue waited.
"Thank you?" Vin's voice rose. "Ya spent the afternoon lickin' wine offa a purty girl and gettin' a poke. Rest of us was doin' real work."
"Rest of who?" Nate cocked an eye at Vin who blushed and chuckled.
"Most of us," he corrected.
"Hey, I was working hard." Buck feigned a wounded voice, "I had to time every move just right, one wrong slip of these hands or these lips could have been disasterous."
"Hmmph!" Ezra disagreed, "Your prowess notwithstanding," he paused to take a sweetroll, "Miss Velaquez's employment had been terminated. Your silver was as alluring as your uh... unique talent." He noted of Hazzard's maid, who was headed back to Santa Fe to her family.
"Aw, hell Ace," Buck winced, clutching his heart, "I'm not just a piece of meat you know." His brows furrowed as chorus of guffaws broke out. "Shut the hell up, all of you!"
"So we got the route," Chris said of Buck's information, "Eat up, we got a lot of road to cover. They left before dawn, but we'll take Rio Diablo Pass and be waiting for them."
"Wouldn't be right not to say hello," Buck's voice grew hard, "now would it?"
His intense stare and hiss caused Vin's head to jerk up. Two sets of determined blue eyes met briefly and Vin nodded at Buck.
"Nope, wouldn't be neighborly," the Texan growled in a low voice.
George Carpenter eyed the hot sun set in a guileless blue sky. Five thousand dollars was a lot of money for such a short excursion, but eyeing the terrian ahead, he wondered if he'd made the right choice. Oh, there was still the large commission he'd make off the remaining real estate transactions, but still... the canyons ahead seemed forboding to him and he shivered despite the heat. He pulled the reins of the horse in and turned back to where the Judge was falling behind again.
"Get that animal moving, we have a lot of ground to cover by nightfall," he shouted back, but the white head rose and glared at him, then resumed it's slow pace.
"J.D., You got anything?" Josiah called, shielding his eyes against the brazen sun which was bearing down on him. The youth was perched on a rocky outcrop, eyeing the horizon. He shook his dark head and continued to look through Vin's spyglass.
It was nearly noon and the dastardly duo was expected any minute. Buck and
Ezra were playing cards, Chris was brooding and Nate was plying Vin with water. The preacher ambled over, frowning at the blinking Texan's eyes. He wondered how many more miles under this unforgiving sun would Tanner be able to last. He watched Nate's dark hand push the tracker's forehead back and Vin surrendered, closing his eyes and resting against the rock.
"Rider's coming!" J.D. boomed, causing everyone to rise.
"Not you!" Nate hissed, shoving Vin back down. "They still got a ways to come... and you're gonna need any extra bit of energy you can stow."
Chris's lean strides took him up to J.D.'s side in a flash. He took the scope and peered at the approaching team. For several seconds, he remained motionless, before returning the glass and sliding down.
"A half hour, maybe more," he warned, walking over to where Vin's half-lidded eyes were fighting him. He sat down next to the tracker and held out Ezra's flask. Vin's head moved to where the Southerner was talking with Buck. He caught Ezra's eye and nodded, getting a flash of gold tooth before he turned back to Chris. They shared a drink and he felt a uneasy calm settle in his gut. The tension left his back and his breathing evened out. Somehow, Chris became a part of him and he felt his strength renewed. As if sensing his thoughts, Chris turned to him, a half-smile gracing his lips.
"Gonna be a helluva show."
"Ya got m'word on that, Larabee," Vin vowed, resting his eyes. It seemed like only mere seconds passed, before a hiss in his ear roused him.
"VIN!"
He blinked and tossed his arm up, not needing his sight. The strong arm hoisted him upright and steadied him. He kept blinking, trying to chase the heavy folds of slumber away, while Chris gently eased his arm from the sling. His eyes widened when a sharp cry forced them open.
"Sorry," Chris whispered, wincing at the pain shooting from Vin's eyes. The heavy chest was accented by painful gasps of air and a wide-eyed stance.
Nate took the sling and shoved it his large shirt. He carefully placed Vin's arm across his midsection and saw the beads of sweat dancing wickedly across the tracker's brow.
"Can you hold it, like that?" he asked, "Won't be too long."
Vin nodded, not trusting his voice, which was choking on the pain that radiated from his shoulder. The arm had been lazily cradled in a sling for a week and not protested angrily at being roused into activity.
Chris watched the Adam's apple bobbing furiously and rested a hand briefly on Vin's shoulder. He gave a good squeeze, then moved forward. Buck, Ezra and J.D. were all in position. Josiah's rifle was primed and ready. Chris drew both colts and perched on the rock, wearing an arrogant smile.
"Mornin'" he boomed, watching Carpenter nearly vault from his horse. "Nice day for a ride. You weren't thinking about backing out on our deal, were you?" Chris slid from the rock and watched the lawyer's face turn ashen, as one by one, the rest of the team appeared, except for Vin. "Bad fuckin' decision!" he growled, waving the gun. "Buck..."
"Mister, it's a wonder you can sit a horse, bein's your ass is slimy and crooked to boot," the rogue seethed as he pulled the stunned figure from the horse. He shoved the shaking man to his knees, and jerked his hair back, exposing the naked throat. He whipped his knife out, tracing a line under the jaw and leaving a thin red trail. He pressed the point against the jumping jugular and leaned his lips against the quaking man's ear. "Go on, sneeze you pig, I dare you." He moved slightly, giving Ezra enough room to tie the man's hands behind his back.
"What's the... ten thousand... I'll give you double..."
"Get him," Buck chuckled, running the knife along the pale neck, drawing another red ribbon. "Stupid fuck thinks this is about money."
George Carpenter didn't hide his fear, after all he was a civilized man from the city. The outlaws, roughriders and ruffians who roamed the plains and ruled the wilds of this western frontier, were beneath him. But like a pack of wolves, they were predators to be feared. He flinched as the knife continued it's path, and his river of sweat ran into the growing wounds.
"Get his pants off, Buck," Chris grinned, already enjoying the first act of the show, "Let's see if he has any balls down there."
As the first tug of the belt, his bladder gave way, giving the group a collective chuckle. "Damn, shit-for-brains," Buck commented, eyeing the growing puddle. "Looks like you had way too much coffee for breakfast."
Spencer Hazzard saw the commotion ahead and recognized the distinct image of the man in black. Without hesitation, he jerked his plodding horse to a halt and reined him in. He shook his head and turned, an action that was halted by a shot and his hat flying off.
"I wouldn't," the steely voice warned, the deadly tone matching the flint in the man's eyes.
"You... I know you... you're..." the Judge tried to remember where he knew the commanding figure, whose gun was trained on his head.
"Your worst fuckin' nightmare you spineless-pile-of-shit," He growled, "You get that horse moving or the next one goes through your kneecap."
He heard the sound when they reached the crude campsight. It was a low growl, the repercussions of which gave him the worst chill of his life. He sucked in a painful breath and drew his tall frame upwards sharply, as the icy green eyes with murderous intent, bore down on him.
"Nice work, Colt," Chris spoke slowly to the lawman whose gun was trained on Hazzard.
"You... Crystal City," Hazzard spat at the lean man approaching him. "You're one of those fools who actually believes in that insipid tin star. Your kind doesn't kill for sport..."
"Mister, you don't know a fuckin' thing about me," Colt gripped Hazzard's belt and yanked him off the horse and onto his knees. "You made the second biggest mistake of your worthless life when you fucked with Colt Haskill, you lyin' son-of-a-bitch!" He growled, choking the judge with one iron fist, while Ezra took his coat off. Colt released the sputtering man, who fell sideways gulping air. He was still reeling and seeing stars, but felt his hands tied in front of him. He blinked at Haskill then at Chris Larabee, who's eyes caused his blood to turn to ice water.
"You won't get away with this..." the judge protested weakly, "Shooting and unarmed man... coldblooded murder..."
"Shut that hole of yours, you fuckin' hypocrite!" Chris roared, backhanding the swarmy male with the butt of his gun. He loomed over the figure, now on his knees and wiping the blood from his mouth, with his bound hands. Chris grinned evilly as the gasping body spit out two teeth.
"Damn, Chris," Buck shook his head, "You're losing your touch. Usually you get four or five... "
"We got plenty of time," Chris grabbed the Hazzard's hair and jerked his head back, "...and I brought pliers." He pulled the small metal clamps from his breast pocket and ran them along the weasel's wet cheek. "Buck, what was that sorry-assed excuse that fuckin' dean gave for tossin' me out of Dental school?"
"Hmmm." Buck scratched his chin with the hilt of his knife and leaned in, tapping the point against the judge's throat, drawing a prick of blood. "As I recall it had somethin' to do with all them poor volunteers who bled out... damn shame... but accident's will happen. Open up!" Buck growled, using the point of the knife to force Hazzard's mouth open. He then gripped the jaw tightly, preventing movement, while Chris ran the pliers along the yellowing teeth.
"Did I mention the volunteers were in prison, during the war?" Chris said almost musically, his grin broad. "When the Army wants information, they don't ask questions about how you get it."
"Best we get started, Chris," Buck jerked the head back, giving Chris more room, "You know this always takes hours... especially when them nerves and red stringy pieces don't want to let the tooth go."
"You want to measure him first?" Chris commented, clamping the metal around a tooth and giving a gentle tug. "Shit... this one's gonna be tough..." he tugged again and moved the metal clamps, causing the body to buckle as the tooth began to work loose.
"We got a surprise for you," Buck said, leaning his face close to the judge's. "After we pull most of them teeth out... we got what you would call a specialist to finish up. An old friend of yours. Won't that be nice?" He nodded to Chris, who screwed his face up and yanked the tooth out, sending a spray of blood onto his hand and a muffled scream as well.
"One down... twenty or so to do..." Chris said, waving the bloody tooth in front of the judge's wide eyes. "Buck, he's gonna cave... best we get to measuring." He stood and used his boot to shove the body sideways. Buck knelt down and rolled him on his back. He made a mark in the dirt above his head and then below his boots.
"Damn, Chris, he's a tall bastard," Buck complained, "You're gonna be wore out from digging."
"Digging?" Chris snarled, shoving his boot on the struggling body trying to rise. He planted it firmly on Hazzard's chest, grinding his heel until the other man squealed.
J.D., Josiah and Ezra were enjoying the show. Josiah couldn't help but chuckle as the color left J.D.'s face.
"You okay, Son?" he leaned over and passed a hand in front of the youth's wide eyes.
"I didn't think they'd really do it... Jesus, that's gotta hurt."
"You ain't seen nothin' yet, Kid," a raspy drawl warned from the shadows behind them.
"I'm not digging the fucking hole," Larabee growled, kicking Hazzard's knee as he argued with Buck, who was directly across from him. "I dug the last two."
"You're a Goddamn liar, Larabee," Buck shouted, stomping on Hazzards groin with all his might and grabbing Chris's collar. "I dug the last two... you got the easy job, that fucker you hacked up only took up foot feet of space." He ground his heels into Hazzard's groin, not even looking to see what kind of face matched the incoherent cries coming from beneath them. "Hell, you beat him to death with his own leg..."
"What do you want? I'll pay... do... what is it..."
"Damn, Buck," Chris frowned, spitting onto Hazzard's face. "You're right, sorry Pard."
"No problem," Buck eased back, then glanced at Hazzard, who was barely coherent. "I think we best move on... it's time to get serious. He's a weak little fucker."
"Yeah," Chris sniffed, squatting down and looking at Buck. "I ain't partial to odd numbers..." he eyed the three teeth lying on the ground. "Open 'em Buck..."
"No... no..." the cry was cut off as the jaw was forced open and the pliers disappeared inside.
"Dammit!" Chris swore, pulling his hand free. "Fucker won't stop babbling, too much spit is ruinin' my grip."
"Reckon it's time..."
Chris and Buck exchanged an evil grin over Hazzard's body, as Vin's unmistakeable voice caused the man lying on the ground between them to pale and begin to tremble.
"It can't be... you're dead..."
"A more handsome corpse I've never had the pleasure of looking upon," Ezra oozed, moving to Vin's side. He'd seen the brief flicker of pain in the blue eyes and was certain the strain on the tracker's shoulder was unbearable.
Vin flicked a grateful gaze at the gambler and nodded, before walking closer to the body. "Had some unfinished business... get 'im ready." Vin said in a steady voice, drilling the judge's eyes with his own.
"You won't get away with this..." Carpenter's pleas fell on deaf ears.
"Shut that maggot up, will ya J.D.?"
"Pleasure, Chris." the youth bowed and made short work of gagging the urine-ridden lawyer.
"Now where were we?" Chris frowned, cocking his head and unbuttoning Hazzard's trousers.
"Hold up, Chris," Buck protested, "Shouldn't the bastard have a chance to speak his peace?"
"Fuck that!" Chris roared, watching as Vin knelt down by Buck, without flinching. He knew the shoulder must be throbbing, but the tracker's face was staid. "I say we cut his prick and balls off and shove them down his throat."
"Ain't got none," Vin breathed, snaking his hand down the loosened trousers. "Well, I'll be damned..." he growled, twisting painfully and causing the judge to squeal in pain. "Turn 'im... I peel 'em better from behind." Vin ordered, kneeling up and taking Buck's large knife. He moved back as Buck and Ezra worked the trousers off.
"That a fact?" Chris asked, shoving Hazzard hard onto his stomach and grinding his face into the dirt.
"Recall one time I was peelin' some tough old bastard, down Mexico way," he nodded, once he saw Chris forcing the face outwards and away from him. Ezra moved in and steadied the younger man, kneeling beside him and grabbing his left shoulder. Vin took two silent deep breaths and nooded. The conman took the knife and placed it against Hazzards ankle. "I started here," Vin hissed..."
"Peel?" Hazzard choked, swallowed dirt with the blood in his mouth. The bitter taste was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. He felt the sting of hand on his naked backside, as he was turned over and forced onto his stomach. "You uncivilized bastard, I should have hung you in that cell in Tascosa..."
"Shut the fuck up!" Chris ordered, slamming the protesting man's face into the ground again. "What barn were you raised in? Don't you know it's not polite to interrupt?"
"Damn, he's a skinny bastard," Buck proclaimed, slapping the reddened cheeks again."Go on, Vin..." He jerked the head upright and Chris secured the blindfold in place.
"...so anyways, I started m'peel here," he paused and Ezra moved aside, letting Chris kneel by his best friend's side. He took the knife and pressed the point against the skin above the ankle. He waited for Vin, who was only too glad to finish. Nate and Ezra had moved in and secured the arm into a sling once again. Ezra provided a flask, which Vin took a liberal dose of, before kneeling back down. "... went from the left ankle, up his leg, clear past his ass and back down the other side. Sure was somethin' t'see..." Vin rasped, clenching his eyes shut to stem the pain. He felt Nate grab him as he swayed and caught himself.
Chris traced the path at the same time the tracker's words sounded. He paused and waited, then gripped the left ankle again.
"You can't..." the muffled protest came. "I'll do anything... I have money..."
"You just don't get it..." Buck shook his head. "You gonna do this today, Vin?" Buck winked at the struggling tracker, who caught the supportive gesture and straightened up. "Hell, by the time we get the hole dug..."
"Maybe we don't need the hole," Vin gasped, nodding for Ezra, who supported him as he leaned over Hazzard. "What'll it be, you yellow-bellied pig, worms or buzzards?"
"Buzzards?" Hazzard quizzed.
"You heard the man, Vin." Chris snarled, "Peel him, hell, even buzzards have to eat," the leader grunted and flicked his wrist, causing Hazzard to scream as knife bit skin and the process began.
"Damn shame," Buck lamanted, "Don't seem fair to give them poor birds indigestion."
"No... wait... please... I did it... is that what you want... I... I... " he stammered, trying to collect his thoughts. "I hired Eli Joe and his gang to... to... roust the ranchers for their land... kill them if they wouldn't sell. He killed... Kincaid... my order... please don't hurt me."
Chris eyed the nearly undone victim and felt the rage rising again. All the years Vin's suffered, all the bounty hunters who'd beaten, kidnapped and hurt his friend, because of this animal. That someone would take Vin's life away... force him to hide in the shadows and steal his right to freedom, was causing an irrepairable pain in his gut. Nobody hurt Vin Tanner... nobody... he didn't realize his wrist and hand were moving; he didn't hear the pig squealing, then a voice, as soft and still as the morning air, broke his daze.
"Chris..."
He turned and met the large, emotive blue pools and felt the left hand firmly ontop of his right one. He inhaled sharply and flinched as if his hand were scorched. He allowed Vin to pry the knife from his hand and sat back, shaking slightly.
"Justice, not vengeance, remember?" Vin said quietly, resting a hand on Larabee's shoulder. He saw the sweaty blond head dip once and heard the chest heaving. He saw the fisted arms trembling in rage and felt the force beneath the damp black fabric under his hand. He gave one firm grip to the shoulder and leaned down. "Ya okay?" The head dipped once, but the fists remained clenched.
"Is that enough?" Buck asked, lifting his head towards the clearing.
"More than enough," a new voice added, pausing as Buck and Ezra got the judge to his feet and pulled his pants back on. The judge blinked as the blindfold was removed.
"Sign..." a voice commanded.
"You saw what they did... you saw... " Hazzard gasped, "I demand..."
"Sign..." Orin pressed, placing a clipboard with a yellow legal document on top. "A brief statement of your actions and then your signature. Witnessed and dated, of course."
"Witnessed?" Hazzard spat, his hand trembling as he wrote out a statement.
"Certainly," Orin Travis nodded to Buck and Colt, who stood on either side of him. "Two of the finest, most honorable lawman I've had the pleasure to meet. Honorable... their actions were dispicable. You're a man of the bench too..."
"Don't you even make the mistake of putting yourself in my class, Hazzard," Travis warned, then turned to Colt and Buck and had them sign the deed. "Get this... this..."
"Walking, spineless pile of vermin?" Ezra suggested.
"Excellent choice of words, Standish." Travis nodded and walked back to his horse. He packed the documents in this bags and eyed the horizon. Two more hours of hard riding until they reached town. He paused and saw them surround Vin protectively, not even aware of their stance. They did it by instinct and out of respect. He saw Chris guide the tracker towards him and wondered how the obviously pained man was still standing. He saw the left hand rise, shook it and nodded.
"I'm in yer debt, Sir." Vin raised his face and sent his thanks.
"No, Son, I'm in yours." With a nod, he got on his horse and waited for them to follow. The sun was brutal and they stretched out in a long line. Two of the riders lagged behind the rest, with the gap widening.
"...m'alright." Vin murmured, when Nathan appeared next to him. He wanted to lift his head to reassure the healer, but didn't have the strength.
"You need to rest, Vin." Nate suggested. "You can't afford to fall off that horse and bust your other arm."
"Ain't gonna fall," Vin whispered, "only fixin' on makin' the trip down once."
Nate sighed and shook his head, knowing how true the weary words were. Once Vin's legs hit the earth, his body would follow. So he rode beside his friend and eyed the town looming in the distance. "Okay, try to hold on... won't be much longer... an hour or so..."
"That all?" Vin managed to lift his head and smile, giving the healer a good laugh.
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