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Nature's Rage
A Maverick story by Deana and MaverickLover2
Takes place after Deana's story, 'No Longer the Pray', which was a tag to the episode 'Prey of the Cat'.
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"We should've taken a train!" Bart exclaimed, holding his hat tightly to his head, eyes closed and lowered to the snow that blew into his face.
"You don't hear me arguing, do you?" his brother asked as they both tried to get through the knee-deep white stuff. It wasn't easy, with the constantly gusting wind blowing it in all directions and the rapidly accumulating drifts hindering their every move.
They thought that winter had ended, but an unexpected spring storm took the Maverick brothers completely by surprise; neither of them had adequate coats, and were frozen solid. Since their only choices were push forward or let the horses stand still and die, they chose to keep going.
Bart was shivering like he'd never shivered before. His clothes were soaked, but thankfully, they both always carried gloves in their saddlebags. The biting wind did nothing to hinder the shivering, only make it worse.
Suddenly, Bret's horse stumbled in the rough terrain and almost deposited his rider into a snow bank.
Bart didn't even see it happen, his gloved hand shielding his eyes.
Bret gave his brother a sheepish look, before realizing that he hadn't seen.
Bart suddenly sighed. "Are we there yet?" he shouted over the wind.
"Can't tell," Bret shouted back. "Too much snow!"
Bart sighed again. His recently broken right leg* was throbbing thanks to the cold, and he shifted with a wince. There was no clear path ahead and neither horse was sure of the way.
Bret saw his brother wince, and sighed himself. Bart had been through hell lately, and didn't need this now. That's when instinct took over and Bret offered, "Keep heading east. Maybe we can outrun this weather!"
Bart chuckled, but the cold wind made him cough. "You can tell which way is east?"
"No, but it sounded good!" Bret answered. "Let's just keep going!"
Bart laughed again. What else could he do? They were probably going to freeze to death out here anyway. Maybe he would've been better off hanging in Woodstone* after all…
They struggled on for a while until the cold permeated every bone in their bodies, and it became clear that they weren't going to get much further; Bart's eyes kept drooping closed, and he was having a hard time staying on his horse.
Bret watched his brother carefully and realized they needed to find shelter in a hurry.
Bart was starting to feel disoriented, and it had nothing to do with not being sure of the direction that they were heading in. "Bret," he called, almost too cold to talk. "We need to s-stop."
Bret shielded his eyes, looking at the mountains that they were nearing. He figured out where there were, and was relieved. "There are caves ahead."
Bart's head drooped. "Thank God," he mumbled, shivering like he was in the middle of an earthquake.
Bret urged his horse ahead, into the lead. Maybe he could help clear a path for his brother. That's why his back was turned when Bart finally couldn't hold on any longer and slipped off his horse into the snow.
Bret didn't even hear his brother fall. He turned to look behind him, and saw neither his brother nor his horse. "Bart!" he exclaimed, quickly turning around. He headed back and found Bart struggling to get up, his horse standing beside him.
Any part of Bart's body that was still dry was dry no longer, and his body temperature was starting to drop dangerously low.
Bret's legs were numb as he tried to get down from his own horse, and he ended up on his knees in the snow, not very far from Bart's state himself. Bret had always been hardier than Bart in the winter cold, and he managed to reach out and grab his brother, trying to pull him up.
Bart could do nothing but try to hang onto his brother's arm, his legs too cold to move.
"Stand up!" Bret exclaimed, as he pulled on his brother. "There are caves! We're almost there!"
Bart tried to lock his frozen knees. He was so cold that his whole body was trembling, threatening to send him back to the snowy ground.
Bret grabbed the reins of both horses and wrapped an arm around his brother's back, trying to lead him to the caves; he doubted that he'd be able to get Bart mounted again in his state. With one final desperate act he finally got Bart to stumble forward several steps before he dropped to the ground just inside the mouth of the first cave that they came across.
Bret accidentally landed on top of Bart and tried to quickly roll off him. Somehow, he managed to crawl forward and grab his brother's arms, dragging him further inside, away from the numbingly cold wind.
Bret pulled on the horses' reins to get them inside the cave too, resisting the urge to collapse onto his back and rest. He was numb and tired, but a glance at Bart showed him that his brother had made no effort to move on his own, laying limply where Bret had dragged him. He had to get a fire started if they had any chance of survival.
Bret checked his coat pocket; no matches. He crawled over to Bart and checked his brother's pockets, trying to rouse him at the same time. "Bart," he said, shaking him. "Don't go to sleep or you might not wake up!"
Bart stirred groggily and mumbled, "Not yet, pappy."
Bret shook him again. "Bart! Stay awake!"
Bart said nothing else.
Finally Bret found what he was looking for in Bart's inside coat pocket: matches! He sighed with relief, before shaking his brother again and getting a mumble out of him. Glad that Bart wasn't unconscious—though he obviously wasn't far from it—Bret managed to stand and go through his saddlebags with numb fingers, pulling out the few pieces of dry firewood that he always carried in case he got caught in the rain. They wouldn't last very long, but it was enough to get a fire started. Maybe he could find something else to burn further back in the cave.
Quickly, Bret dropped the sticks near the mouth of the cave and struck a match, sighing in relief when the wood caught flame. He wanted to check on Bart, but knew if he didn't find more fuel for the fire quickly it wouldn't do them any good; what they both needed was warmth, as soon as possible.
Bret got to his feet and headed further into the cave, adrenaline lending him the strength to keep moving. He found more sticks and leaves blown in from the wind before the snow had begun to fall, and he brought some back, dropping it into the fire and watching it burn.
Taking a deep breath, he turned and quickly headed back to his brother.
Bart hadn't moved since being dragged inside and Bret knew that he had to get his brother closer to the fire. Steeling himself for the effort, he did his best to drag Bart that few feet, but it took all the willpower that Bret had. His strength drained, he finally allowed himself to drop to his own knees. He wasn't sure which was worse: the cold or the exhaustion.
Bart still didn't move, eyes closed.
"Bart," Bret tiredly said. He laid down himself, grabbing his brother's arm and shaking it. "Wake up."
But Bart didn't react, and Bret had no time to do anything else before darkness claimed him too.
TBC
*'Prey of the Cat', season 2, episode 12.