Title: Miracles Are Bound To Happen (Alias Smith and Jones)

Author: Vanidot

Rating: FRT- V (mildly H/C, smarm in the form of being cousins)

Universe: O/W (closed)

Disclaimer: Without Prejudice. The names of all characters contained here-in are the property of Universal studios and whoever else. No Infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. This is not for profit but for fun only.

Author's note: this story is a little pre-amnesty history for the universe that I am creating it explains some things the show left open but will become cannon for my universe (when I get around to finidhing it.)

Feedback: Welcome

Beta-request: Please! You don't need to know much about the ASJ world. I don't but I need content, grammar, and overall flow of story edited.

Miracles Are Bound To Happen

Part 1

Somewhere out there was a miracle waiting to happen. More than anything else in the world, Hannibal Heyes desperately needed a miracle. Days of being on the run were taking their toll on him; no food, no water, and no way of getting more. The last time the train had stopped for water he wasn't able to get off and get some for himself with out risking being seen, a chance he wasn't willing to take in the middle of nowhere. They'd throw him off for sure. Then he'd really be in trouble stuck in the wilderness with no where to go except wait for the next train which could be days or weeks between the two.

Heyes licked his parched lips, knowing it wouldn't do any good. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wincing as the weight on his left foot sent shooting pains up his leg. Walking the ten or more miles to the railroad tracks from the Plummer Gang's hideout had worn blisters on both his feet but it was the left one he'd suspected of becoming infected. He knew he'd have to jump off the train soon to find help, but he'd rather do it while the train was stopped and it had been going straight through since the morning before.

Heyes stared out into the pitch black scenery whizzing by him, not even the stars showing tonight, mirroring the darkness he felt in his own soul. He didn't expect to see anything; there was nothing out there to see anyway. He was simply staring out beyond anything visible, nothing to see but his own thoughts. How could he have been so stupid, he should have known what James Plummer was up to. Heyes made a huge mistake joining up with this gang in the first place. The second worst mistake of his life and it had almost cost him just that. His mind played back the events that led to the trouble he was in; starting with the night he abandoned his young cousin, Jedediah 'Kid' Curry.

After pulling their first job, a simple hold up gone wrong, Heyes and Kid had 'borrowed' two horses. He'd left some money they had taken off the dead man and had hoped it was enough to cover both the horses and the tack. They were unknown, it had been too dark to see when they were caught standing over the dead man's body going through his pockets, and since they were faceless youth, the posse forgot why they were chasing them in the first place. He and Kid weren't to know that, though. In fact, if he hadn't later run into someone who'd been 'volunteered' to join that posse he would never have known it himself. When he'd found out he realized just how foolish he'd been.

He and Kid, being chased and running for their lives, had been scared, real scared, and stupid. They had come to a cross roads and were divided in their choice of directions to take, and not thinking clearly in the heat of the moment, Heyes felt they should go left to Cheyenne. But Kid was determined they should go east to Pottersville. (Did you mean Porterville?)

"It's a small town, Heyes; they can't possibly know us there." Kid insisted adamantly.

"That's exactly why we shouldn't go, Kid, we need a place to hide in, and you can't hide in a small town like Pottersville. Every one knows everyone else! You know what it was like at home, you knew the second a stranger walked into to town and why. We need a big city where we can get lost in the crowd." Heyes said just as adamantly, as they were wasting valuable time arguing. Kid shook his head unflinchingly.

"That's precisely why we should go to Pottersville, they're gonna know that and go left." Kid said pointing behind them to the not yet visible posse hot on their trail. Heyes knew there was some sense in that but he still thought going to Cheyenne was the better idea.

"Make up your mind Heyes. I'm going to Pottersville are you coming with me or not?" Kid said determinedly. Heyes looked at Kid's pleading eyes, desperation etching deep lines into his young face. Heyes wasn't sure what to do for the first time in his life. He couldn't make a decision, his mind blocked by fear and panic. He didn't want to break the promise he'd made to his dying mother, holding her hand in his, fighting back the tears that inevitably fell.

"It might be better if we split up, Heyes. We can get twice as far if we go it alone." Kid suggested, after seeing the hesitation in Heyes' face and had made his decision already, stubborn and obstinate. Heyes saw the determination and knew he couldn't change his cousin's mind. That got his back up; well if Kid wanted to go it alone they would.

"Ok Kid, you win. If you wanna go it alone, fine. I'm going to Cheyenne." Heyes had said bitterly; it wasn't the first time Kid had crossed him but he never thought it would be the last. They had been stupid, stubborn fools parting forever at the crossroads, never to see each other again.

Kid had been right of course, the posse had almost caught up with him until he found a stream and decided to turn back using an old Indian trick he'd learned. He backtracked to the place where he and Kid had split up and had almost expected Kid to be waiting there for him. Heyes followed the road for a couple of miles before becoming lost and stumbling on the railroad tracks. There, he let the horse loose to wander off and had jumped his first train, but to his dismay it had come from Pottersville and had taken him far away from Kid forever.

His second mistake had come later that same year when he'd gotten drunk in a saloon one night, trying to drown his sorrows, and had gotten caught up in a crooked poker game. That was the night he'd joined the Plummer gang led by a man named Jim Plummer. That should have been his first clue that the man was no good for the simple fact that Plummer couldn't come up with a more original name than using his own as an alias.

That night had been the first time he'd ever gotten drunk. Sure he'd tasted liquor before but it was the first time he'd been drunk. It's hard to drown one's sorrows in watered down beer. He'd regretted joining the Plummer gang for the past four years, from the moment he was sober. The first rule of Plummer's gang was that you didn't leave unless you were dead, and he had found he had wanted to live despite the hole in his heart. He wanted to live as long as possible, even after he found himself in a hell hole worse than the orphanage had been.

Jim Plummer had used him for coming up with all the ideas. Although he was the youngest member, he was the smartest one of the bunch. The others were conniving, thieving, murderous back stabbers, but they were loyal to a fault, ready to slit your throat if you even thought about leaving. Heyes' mistake had been to underestimate James Plummer. Plummer was smarter than he'd let on, though he hadn't proved it until just a couple of months ago.

Heyes had come up with a plan to rob the bank at Little Ridge, a small town in the middle of nowhere, an easy mark. He'd worked out all the details; no one was to call anyone else by name, they'd have their faces covered so no one could recognize them; the plan had been perfectly orchestrated. Heyes had become an expert safe cracker from the very first safe he'd opened. A natural, the old safecracker had called him just days before blowing himself up in a job gone bad. Heyes had done it since for the past three years and it was a job he enjoyed, taking pride in his achievements.

Everything had gone smoothly, no one had gotten injured, they had gotten the money and were on their horses before anyone had noticed the bank was being robbed. Plummer then changed the plan and shot the sheriff. No one was supposed to get killed; Heyes had planned it that way. Half way out of town Plummer had pulled them to a stop and had suggesting they split up and all head back to the hideout individually, leaving him with all the loot. Heyes didn't like it; he didn't trust Plummer at all but the second rule of the Plummer gang was you never questioned his orders or he'd blow your head off. There was no alternative.

They had all left Heyes sitting there, just him and his horse. He wanted to get as far from all of them as he possibly could, leaving the boys and the hideout behind. Plummer and the gang would find him and kill him that he was sure of, so instead he took a short cut, planning to get back to the hide out before any of them hoping to catch Plummer at whatever game the man was playing. Heyes' horse then threw a shoe and he had to walk the four miles to the hideout, taking longer than he'd anticipated. He was already tired and foot sore by the time he'd gotten back to the hide out. He heard gunfire before he was close enough to see the gun battle; the posse had gotten there first.

Heyes hid and watched the scene unfolding in the clearing ahead. Several of his companions were already lying on the ground shot full of holes. Those who had made it inside were giving it all their might but it was a loosing battle, one he had no intention of staying to fight. He turned his back on the Plummer gang; he hadn't expected James to be there anyway. He found his way to his own hideout in the dark, an old abandoned gold mine that had been long since forgotten. He'd found the mine shortly after joining the band of outlaws. He found solitude and safety there, none of the other men knew where he disappeared to every night but they didn't question him as long as he reappeared in the morning.

He was smart and kept his share of the loot hidden behind a rock halfway down the long mine shaft, for an abandoned prospector's mine it was pretty big. He checked his stash, there wasn't much of it left but it would do. He stayed there until it was almost dark, sure that the posse would now be long gone, taking their prize packages with them. The place was a mess, tossed pretty thoroughly, to find loot from previous jobs. At least they had taken all the bodies back as proof for the rewards.

Heyes stayed the night to get a good night's sleep, knowing that neither the posse, nor Plummer would be back. At the first light of dawn he was up and had gathered all the supplies he could carry, filling several canteens full of water. He headed opposite the direction the posse would have taken and made the long trek out of the woods. He kept his side arm free for quick access, fearing beast more than man. By the time he'd reached the railroad the sun had already started to set and his feet to blister. He had to wait until well after dark before the first train came by and he got on it.

He changed trains several times, tossing the canteens out until he only had one left. Four days later found him without food and with very little water. He at last caught the right train to Pottersville and the chance to correct his mistake if it wasn't already too late. It was another couple of days before he had run out of water completely and his foot begun to show signs of infection, bringing back to reality his current predicament.

Heyes prayed for his miracle to find him, knowing that the signs of dehydration had already begun to set in. He also knew that if he didn't get his foot looked after soon it might be too late The train jolted and knocked him off balance. He had lost all track of time, didn't know how long he had stood at the opening of the cattle car, but his legs and sore foot told him it had been far too long. He shut the car door and limped back to the bed he had made for himself out of the hay scattered about the floor. He lay down and stretched his legs out in front of him. Fearing what he'd find if he took his boots off, he left them on. He lay back against the pile of hay and allowed the sleep he had been fighting for so long to overtake him at last.