RAPTURE

by Goldie

HEYES

Hannibal Heyes absently watched the world race past him, grateful not to be bothered.

Outside the train, rain beat obstinately against the dirty windows. The sun had succumbed to the clouds and the effect was truly depressing.

Inside the train, Heyes was warm and relatively comfortable. He leaned his arm on the sill on the window and rested his head on his arm. The railroad car in which Heyes rode was devoid of people except for an elderly couple at the far end. Heyes had his back to them and he felt utterly alone in the storm. For the moment he was absorbed in the introspection that comes with persistent rain on a Saturday afternoon. The continual click-clack-click-clack of the train lulled him to the edge of sleep. But Heyes could not sleep; instead he found himself spending the time mulling over the events of the day. As he relived the day in his mind, he wished fervently that he could somehow undo the damage that had been done, that perhaps he could find a loophole that would show him the way to start over. No one was close enough to see Hannibal Heyes's face. But if anyone had been nearby they would have seen the very clouds themselves cross his face. And at some point they would have seen tears in his eyes.

Contentment

That fateful morning, Kid Curry, beloved Jed Curry, Heyes's friend as far back as he could remember, was at his side as always as they traded their horses and gear for money at the local livery stable. Train tickets were then purchased, followed by a satisfying meal at the local hotel. The scheduled arrival of their train was still several hours away, so Heyes and the Kid opted for a room rental for a rest and for baths. A little money provided simple luxuries for 1885: cleanliness, relaxation, fulfillment. Both felt it was too early in the day for whiskey or cigars, so when they felt adequately refreshed, they grabbed their saddlebags and other belongings and walked the few blocks to the depot to await their train.

They sat on a bench facing the street and relaxed, enjoying the cool day and the view of people passing by. They chatted aimlessly, assessing the values of horses they saw and discussing the beauty of women they admired. These were among the happiest times of their lives, the simplicity of everyday life, the ability to be with someone who cared and with whom to share these happy carefree feelings.

Tension

But the good times are never destined to last. Heyes and the Kid knew this from bitter experience. The governor had not as yet granted amnesty to these two ex-outlaws. Bounty hunters, sheriffs, and posses were a constant threat. More than once their lives had been on the line and more often than not troubles had destroyed their carefree times. Heyes could tell from the sudden look on the Kid's face that trouble was brewing again. He followed his friend's gaze until it landed on a man dressed in black further down the street. He noticed that the man was also staring at them, but Heyes did not recall ever having seen him before.

"Who is it, Kid?" asked Heyes, the sharp edges of stress creeping into his voice.

"You don't know him," said the Kid solemnly, never taking his eyes off the man.

The man in black, apparently now sure of his identification of the Kid, began walking toward them.

"Looks like you'll get the chance to introduce us," Heyes returned flippantly, well aware from the tone of the Kid's voice and his body language that the situation was festering dangerously.

As the man approached closer, Heyes could see that he was a gunfighter type, late thirties, tall and lean, erect standing, and a shiny expensive-looking six-gun tied to his leg.

The Kid stood slowly, tension ruling his body. "You stay out of this, Heyes," he said simply.

Heyes had no intention of getting involved in trouble, but he did not want the Kid to get involved, either. He cast a quick look at his friend to ascertain that he had read his emotions correctly. He had. The Kid had assumed the stance that invited gunplay. He removed the safety from his gun and allowed his hand to linger tensely at his side.

The man in black approached to within a few yards of the two of them and then stopped. "I thought that was you," he said to the Kid, venom dripping from each word.

"It's me," the Kid responded, the softness of his voice belying the tautness of his body. "You know what I want!"

"And you'll get it," the man in black said, throwing his coattail back and hooking it behind his gunbelt.

Heyes watched them both carefully. Mentally he summed up the stranger as quickly as he could. He was a vengeance-seeker, Heyes could tell by the tone in his voice. A thrill-seeker, unconcerned for his own or anyone else's safety. A fight-starter. And, since he was still standing, a fight-finisher. Heyes looked to the Kid, who was ready to participate in the fight. "Kid, no . . ." he said in a low voice.

"You stay out of this," repeated the Kid.

The man in black said, "This is just between us."

Fear

Heyes stood. A deep, deep feeling of distress penetrated his body. He had stood by the Kid's side other times in gunfights, and had always felt the unease. There had never been a time when the Kid's opponent was faster than he was, but that meant the odds were now against him. A loss in this simple game meant death. Heyes felt an involuntary intake of breath. His summation of their opponent told him the man was faster than the Kid. Heyes had no way of knowing if that was true, but he was deeply afraid that it was.

"Get out of here," the Kid hissed at Heyes, never taking his eyes off the man in black.

Heyes knew better than to provide resistance. Unwillingly, he backed away. The Kid was now alone in the range of his opponent's gun. They were only a few yards apart. Heyes watched in terror, unable to avert his eyes. He had seldom known such fear. It crawled through his body and froze him. Time seemed to stand still. He could not imagine the Kid winning this gun battle. He pictured the Kid lying dead on the ground, blood pouring from his heart. Heyes's breath stopped in his throat. His eyes were wide open but he saw nothing, as if they were closed.

When Heyes heard the gunshot, he felt his legs weaken. More than anything in the world, he wanted to sit down, but he knew he had to try to focus on the scene in front of him first. Slowly, it seemed, the Kid came into focus. He was standing! He was alive!

He was alive!

But the man in black was standing, also. It took Heyes a lifetime to decipher what had happened. Both Kid Curry and his opponent were looking down the street at a person running toward them. A Sheriff? Yes, a Sheriff.

Heyes heard "What's wrong, Sheriff" but was unsure which man said it.

A man with a badge approached and yelled at them. "There'll be no gunplay in this town, boys. You take your grief to the town limits and have your fun and games out there! Keep those shooters in their holsters for now! When you're ready to kill each other, you get outside of town, at the end of that road right over there." The Sheriff re-holstered his gun and began walking away. He looked back over his shoulder and yelled with disgust, "I'll warn the undertaker."

The man in black hissed, "Ten minutes!" and walked away also.

Relief

Heyes suddenly felt the tension drain from his entire body; he realized he'd been gritting his teeth and holding his breath. He sat back down on the bench, happy it was close by. It was a few moments before he could venture another look at the Kid.

The Kid was still standing, watching the man in black follow the Sheriff down the street. His body was still completely tense when he sat back down next to his friend.

"What was that all about, Kid?" asked Heyes.

"Nothing. It's between him and me."

Heyes was mildly surprised that the Kid wasn't volunteering information. He looked back down the street, but the man in black was gone. "You almost got yourself killed there, and maybe me with you. I think you at least owe me an explanation."

The Kid squinted, apparently thinking twice about it, and then said quietly, "It's an old beef. Goes way back. You weren't there at the time."

Heyes watched the Kid and realized that he was not going to settle down. Heyes felt it was his duty to take his friend's mind off the strange man in black. He was trying to decide his next move when he heard the whistle of their approaching train.

Heyes stood up and reached for his things. "Our train's coming, Kid. Time to go." He looked to the skies as he felt the first drops of rain.

"I'm not going," said the Kid quietly, looking off down the street.

Distress

Surprised, Heyes followed his gaze and then quickly realized what the Kid meant. "Of course you're going," he said, punching the Kid in the shoulder. "We found a paying job and we'll lose it if we miss this train."

"I'm not going, I said." More forcefully this time.

By now Heyes was beginning to feel the first twinges of panic. "Forget him, Kid! He's a hotshot who's only looking to make a name for himself. It's not worth it! You've got a job waiting. Let's go!"

The Kid turned to him. "Don't get your back up over it, Heyes. I'm not going and that's final."

Heyes looked at the train, which was just beginning to pull into the station. He saw the conductor jump off the train and head into the depot. Down the street, he saw a few people heading toward them, apparently summoned by the train's whistle. Some people were dressed for riding, and some were meeting arriving passengers. They were scurrying due to the sudden rain shower. The train screeched to a stop amid a sudden flurry of activity.

Heyes knew he was becoming frantic and took a breath to calm himself. He realized he had to choose his words carefully, but the right words would not come to mind. His silver tongue, always so dependable in emergency situations, failed him when someone he cared about was involved. He looked to the Kid. The Kid was lost in thought, his eyes on the street.

Heyes was already holding all his own possessions. Now he grabbed the Kid's as well. The Kid saw him and grabbed them back, unnecessarily roughly. "Get it through your head, Heyes, I'm not going!"

This couldn't be! It just couldn't be! "Kid, this man is a killer. It's not worth it, believe me. You can't . . . I mean . . ."

The Kid interrupted him, but Heyes didn't know what to say next anyhow. "I know he's a killer," he growled. When he saw the frightened look in Heyes's eyes, his voice softened. "That's why I have to do this. I saw him kill a man in Newton. Just shot him down in cold blood. And I just watched. I owe it to that man."

"Kid! Do you even know who that man was? Do you even care? You don't owe him anything!"

"Maybe," said the Kid softly. "But I owe it to myself."

Heyes knew he was licked. The Kid's voice made it clear that his attitude was unwavering. Heyes's dejection showed in his face. The Kid grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face the train. "You'd better get on board," he said. "It leaves in a few minutes."

"But why . . . why?"

The Kid sighed. "I told him at the time that he'd need to face me. Sometime, somewhere. Looks like it's now. Someone had to stand up for that poor guy. And I decided it had to be me." He gave Heyes a little push. "Go on. Get on board. I mean it. I don't want you here."

Heyes looked back at him. Heyes did not plead with anyone, for any reason. But his eyes gave him away. The only thing he could say was, "Kid, don't do this."

"I'll take the next train tomorrow. I'll see you there." He and Heyes stared mournfully at each other for a minute. Their hearts were full. Heyes turned quickly and boarded the train. He turned to his left and entered the car, deciding to continue on forward through the cars until he was in the first passenger car behind the engine. Heyes knew that this was the car usually reserved for older couples or people without children, and it would be fairly empty. He did not want to encounter anyone who might talk to him. He knew his voice would crack.

The seat he chose was the front seat, the one on the right. Had he chosen the seat on the left, he might have accidentally looked out the window and seen the Kid. That would have been too painful. Heyes believed in his heart that he would never see the Kid again.

Anguish

In a few minutes, Heyes heard an elderly couple enter the car and sit near the back. They did not talk to them. It was several minutes later before the train actually pulled out of the station. To Heyes, it felt like hours, or maybe no time at all. It did not matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

Heyes had always known that it was only a question of time before a bullet brought down the great Kid Curry. To Heyes, the accolade 'Fastest Gun in the West' was nothing more than bait, a target for every two-bit gunslinger. Heyes knew it was possible that the man in black did not actually know who the Kid was; it was possible that it was merely a personal vendetta, as the Kid had said. But it simply did not matter. The man looked capable of killing. The Kid had said that he had in fact killed. The man looked capable of killing the Kid.

And to Heyes, it had looked like the Kid wanted it.

He and the Kid were both tired of running. Running from the law, running from their reputations, running from . . . two-bit gunslingers. The Kid had never lost a gunfight. But the odds were against him. Heyes choked back a sob. He could not get it out of his head that the Kid would die. He believed he had to begin accepting the loss of his best friend. It was a very bitter realization, and tears flooded his eyes.

He allowed himself a moment of sorrow, then pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the flow of tears. Sighing deeply, he wiped his hands over his face, then shook his head. Now Heyes knew he was alone. He took a deep breath in an attempt to control his emotions . . .

But he knew he was still the great Hannibal Heyes, retired bank robber. The only person in the world who had successfully opened a Pierce & Hamilton '78 safe. The partner of gunfighter Kid Curry, the Fastest . . .

He leaned his arm on the sill of the window and rested his head on his arm, concentrating on the rain.

KID CURRY

The Kid was sitting idly on a bench next to his best friend in front of the train depot, content with life in general and happy to have a paying job to look forward to at the end of the upcoming train ride. Although he knew he took his lifelong friend Hannibal Heyes for granted, he always thought of Heyes as good company, congenial and caring.

The two of them chatted in an inconsequential manner when the Kid suddenly ceased talking and stared off down the street. He recognized a man he had seen before, once only, several years ago. A killer.

It was when he was alone in Newton. He had just finished up a job and was planning on spending the night before leaving the next morning to meet Heyes somewhere. Newton was a town in which the Sheriff expected all firearms to be checked at his office, so the Kid was not wearing his gun. Unlike most people, who felt safer with this restriction, the Kid felt violated and unprotected. But it was only for one night so he tried to make the best of it.

He had just left the saloon and was standing outside talking with a pleasant new acquaintance, a man whose name he never even learned. Another man, the hated man in black, rode quickly forward out of the darkness, said something the Kid did not remember, and felled the Kid's new acquaintance with one shot. The Kid's new friend never had a chance. The Kid remembered yelling something at the man to the effect that he would not let him get away with this murder, that he expected a showdown some day to avenge his new friend's death.

The man in black stared at him, seemingly memorizing his features, then said, "Done!" He rode off into the night.

The Kid ran to the Sheriff's office to collect his gun and ran off after the man in black but never found him. When he joined Heyes a few days later, he never mentioned the affair. For one thing, he expected that it was over. For another, he was embarrassed at being unable to locate the killer, even though it had been night. And he also was taking Heyes's own feelings into account, for he knew Heyes would worry with this hanging over their heads.

But now here, years later, was the hated killer in black standing at the end of the street, staring at him. All the emotions the Kid had felt at the time inundated him: the anger, the hatred, the helplessness, the grief at watching a new friend die. But nowhere present was the emotion of fear.

Determination

The Kid and the man made eye contact. The man started walking toward him. The Kid stood woodenly and was vaguely aware that Heyes was saying something. Almost his entire attention was occupied with this man and what the next few minutes would bring. For Kid Curry knew that a gunfight was inevitable. And that one of them would die.

He was only slightly aware of engaging in minimal conversation with his adversary. His hand removed the safety from his gun. He assumed the gunfighter's stance, an unmistakable posture that suggested blood. He stood firmly, his body straight and unwavering, waiting for his opponent to make the first move. The Kid worked hard to clear his mind of any thoughts or emotions that did not directly pertain to the conquest of his adversary. This is how he had been successful in all his gunfights and this is what he knew worked for him.

Both of them were startled by the sound of a gunshot. They turned to see the local Sheriff, who had apparently shot his gun in the air to break their concentration, the way water might be thrown on two fighting mongrels. The Kid did not want to be lectured by the Sheriff but new that he would have to abide by what was being asked of him.

His concentration was broken, as was the man in black's. Their deadly eye contact had been interrupted, a fact that allowed both of them to live a while longer. He knew, however, exactly what the man in black meant by "ten minutes," and he fully intended to meet with him at the appointed time and place. The Kid sat on the bench next to Heyes and was surprised to hear Heyes speak to him.

The Kid was not in the mood to talk. He was trying valiantly to retain the anger that had precipitated his desire for a showdown, and Heyes speaking to him endangered that focus. The Kid tried to ignore it but Heyes persisted; the Kid's concentration on anger at the stranger was shattered. Now he focused his pique on his partner. He dutifully answered Heyes's questions with short clipped answers. He was surprised again when Heyes announced the arrival of their train with words that implied that they would both be leaving.

Kid Curry had no intention of abandoning this fight. What had originally been the battle to avenge the death of an acquaintance had evolved into a requisite need to maintain his own self-respect. The train whistle interrupted this flow of thought, but the Kid picked it up again, this time substituting 'satisfaction' for 'self-respect.' The Kid was unaware of his own smugness.

And Heyes was a master at verbal manipulation, the Kid knew. Coupled with the panic he was obviously feeling, the Kid knew Heyes was capable of talking him into leaving. He steeled himself against any emotional signals he felt and brusquely denied everything Heyes clearly wanted of him. When he felt himself explaining to Heyes what had happened to cause this confrontation in the first place, he was surprised to find that he felt something stronger than anger – the grief at the loss of a friend. Just an acquaintance, really, but someone who could have been a friend given different circumstances. And just a twinge of grief, but it was still there. And there was another emotion prodding him, a positive one that had to do with Heyes. Once again the Kid tried to toughen himself against feelings with which he was not comfortable. And, worse than that, his thoughts and emotions were flitting around, making it difficult for him to concentrate on any one of them. He was becoming confused.

Love

But the tenderness he felt for Heyes was familiar to him. He knew his fight was not Heyes's fight and it would have been unthinkable – unbearable – if Heyes were to lose his life in a valiant attempt to protect his friend. So the Kid armed himself with that very affection and forced Heyes to board the train, clearly against his wishes.

As he watched his friend board (without looking back, he noticed with pain), he realized that it might be the last time that they would see each other. This thought was intolerable and he pushed it to the back of his mind. He turned and walked down the street in the direction the Sheriff had pointed.

As hard as the Kid tried, he could not get Heyes out of his thoughts. He wished to concentrate on the task at hand, but it was becoming more and more elusive. He began to be aware of other things – things like people looking at him as he walked. He realized that he must have been making quite an impression as he followed in the footsteps of the man in black. He began to be aware that both of them probably did indeed look like gunfighters. A gun battle was forthcoming. Death was inevitable.

Although he did not fear death, the Kid did not welcome it. Nor did he wish to provide it for the sake of entertainment. Not for himself or anyone else. This thought jolted him. He had never thought of a gunfight as amusement for strangers. But, of course, it was.

The Kid stopped walking and stood in the middle of the street. He had arrived at his destination. He looked back at the train, which was still at the depot. He saw luggage and mail sacks being loaded. Nowhere did he see Heyes. This thought bolstered his strength, but, conversely, saddened him greatly. He wanted to see Heyes one more time for some reason he did not understand. This thought threatened to overtake his desire for revenge. The Kid consciously tried to remember whatever he could of the man whose death he was about to avenge. His memories of him were sketchy.

Briefly, the Kid remembered the look on his partner's face before he boarded the train. What, thought the Kid, would be the point of dying for a friend, when another friend's heart would be broken as a result? The Kid's expression did not change but he was aware of a change in his body – a loosening of the taut muscles, a relaxing of his shoulders, an undoing of an entire attitude. The Kid knew what this meant, and it pleased him. He looked around for the man in black. He was not in sight.

The Kid knew that at least fifteen minutes had passed. The man in black was not coming.

The man in black was not coming! There was no need for a gunfight! There was no reason to die!

The Kid stood exactly where he was for a moment, and wondered. Wondered why, in fact, he had ever thought there was a reason to die. It was puzzling. In fact, there was every reason to live. The train whistle blew as the train began to pull out of the station. The sound jerked the Kid back to reality. At that moment he knew what the most important thing in life was. And it was on that train!

Skirting the street quickly one more time for the man in black and satisfied and happy that he was off the hook, Kid Curry began to run for the train. He grabbed his belongings where he had left them by the bench and just managed to throw them on board the last car and jump on himself before the train picked up enough speed to outrun him. He stood for a moment, leaning on the railing and panting to catch his breath.

After a few minutes, he entered the train and set his belongings in the last seat. He saw the conductor approaching so he pulled his ticket out of his pocket. When the conductor had moved on, the Kid started looking for Hannibal Heyes.

Heyes was obviously not in this car. The Kid started to move forward to enter the next car, then suddenly sat in the nearest seat instead. A stray thought had misdirected him. Although he knew with certainty that Heyes would be ecstatic to see him alive, he wondered idly if Heyes would be disappointed in him for abandoning a gunfight. He had never lost, and had never run from, a fight before. Even though his adversary had not appeared, he felt that he had run away, and this bothered him. He had never backed down before.

The Kid sat for a few minutes stewing over this possibility. He did not wish to be a failure – to Heyes, to anyone. It would be better to spend his life alone than to be the cause of disappointment.

Alone.

But, happily, the more he pondered, the more he realized that Heyes would never feel let down by him. Then the Kid did indeed begin to wonder why this would even bother him at all. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Heyes would be overjoyed to see him alive, nothing more. And that he himself would be elated to be with his partner again.

Nothing else really mattered, did it?

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was only stupid pride that was getting in the way. Perhaps that was ever the only real reason for a gunfight!

Kid Curry stood suddenly, startling the passengers near him, and ran to the next train car. He scanned it quickly for his friend, and, not seeing him, traveled forward through the cars until he saw Heyes in the very first car. He stood in the entrance for a moment to collect himself, then walked steadily to where Heyes was sitting. He stood in the aisle.

HANNIBAL HEYES AND KID CURRY

Rapture

Heyes had his face turned to the window. Somehow he sensed someone behind him. He looked to the reflection in the window and saw his beloved friend! Thinking for a moment that he was imagining it, Heyes did not react. But when he heard the Kid speak, Heyes slowly raised his head and turned to face his friend.

"This was a better choice," said the Kid with a smile.

Heyes was ecstatic, barely able to believe the Kid was really there. He smiled broadly but was unable to speak without choking on his words so he said nothing. It wasn't clear whose hand extended first, but it was immediately grabbed by the other two, and then the fourth hand made it a complete handshake.

Kid Curry sat across from his partner Hannibal Heyes. For a moment they simply looked happily at each other. After a while, they both stared idly out the window, each lost in his own thoughts. There were no words spoken for a long time.

It was the Kid who broke the silence. "I'm going to hang up my gunbelt – retire from gunfighting," he said as if it were idle conversation. "Thought you should know."

Heyes could not remember ever hearing more beautiful words. His breath caught in his throat and he had to work hard to maintain his composure. He responded by shaking his head in understanding and saying simply, "All right."

They both turned back to the window and watched the rain and the scenery pass them by. Time was of no importance. They had a long train ride ahead of them. They were traveling together to a new job, a new life, and a place in the heart where gunfights did not exist.

And deep affection worked its magic to overcome all enemies.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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