The Wild Wild West

Night of the Late Artemus

Chapter 1: Deadly Denis Strikes

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.

"Martin, Ross Martin, I'm a doctor." Artie introduced.

"And him?" The clerk motioned to the sickly looking man beside him.

"Conrad, he's my patient."

The clerk eyed them suspiciously, then waved his hand dismissively. "I'm sorry, but I can't risk having sickness spread through my hotel. You'll have to find somewhere else to stay. "

"Okay, thanks."Artie grumbled halfheartedly, casting a sidelong glance at his "patient". Jim sighed.

Artie and the clerk shook hands and Jim held out his hand as well, but Artie slapped it back down before the clerk could notice, shooting him a meaningful look. The two partners stammered out onto the street. Artie shook his head at the ground.

"Well that went well." He grumbled. "Maybe this disguise wasn't the best idea after all. Maybe we should just drop this disguise, though, I guess we can't since we've already spent a day around town this way. If we change it now, I'll only give us away."Artie sighed. "Seems like well never find this Deadly Denis fellow after all, or a place to stay the night for that matter."

Jim mimicked his sigh.

Artie suddenly turned accusingly to his friend. "And what was with the hand shake?! You were supposed to have diphtheria! No wonder you never made it into theater!"

Jim chuckled.

"Could have thrown in a few coughs here and there too to make it a little more authentic." He added, no more than a mumble.

"We'll next time I'll leave the bigger roles for you." Jim grinned.

"Thanks" Artie replied blandly, studying the street from end to end.

"Artie?"

"Yah, Jim?"

"Why diphtheria? Isn't that...?"

"Ridiculous? Yes. But hey, it was a last minute decision, I had to say something." Artie shrugged. He leaned against a supporting pole on the wooden inn porch, then looked questioningly over at his partner. "Jim, refresh my memory, why on earth are we here? What is this deadly dentist fellow after anyhow?"

"Deadly Denis." Jim corrected, then he bit the side of his lip. He hadn't told Artie yet for fear of worrying him. But in the end he decided it would be best just to tell him up front.

"You."

"You're joking." Artie blinked. "Boy, this just keeps getting better and better doesn't it?" He said sarcastically. "Why?"

"We don't know." Jim sighed.

"So you brought me on the case?"

"Deadly Denis is very dangerous, and clever. Even worse he knows about our train. I figured the safest place for you was we're I could keep an eye on you."

"That makes sense." Artie agreed. "I think..."

Artie took off his dusty hat and ran his sleeve across his brow. "So now what?" He panted, the heat was nearly unbearable; the day was humid and very hot.

Jim sighed. "Well, I guess there's nothing more we can do like this. We'll have to leave town, stay the night on the train and come back tomorrow."

"agreed."

...

Back at their private railroad car, Jim West and Artemus Gordon sat in silence. Both deep in thought. Artie took off his tan smoking jacket and laid it out on the desk chair, taking off his hat and fanning his face with it. It was only 10:00 AM of the following morning, but already it had reached nearly unbearable temperatures. Artie glanced around quiet car, his eyes resting upon a pitcher of cool sparkling water. He licked his lips.

"Wanna drink?" Artie offered, breaking the silence. Jim nodded his head, not moving out of his 'in deep thought' position of sitting with his chin resting in his up-turned hand and squinty look on his look Artie knew all too well. Artie poured him some water from the water pitcher and handed it to him.

"Thanks."

"Where should we look now? It's not like he's just gonna show up on our door step." Artie asked, taking a well needed sip of water.

"We'll, we checked the Horseshoe hotel, the bar, that old shack outside of town and the Gun Barrel inn. No one seemed to recognize the drawing of Denis, so he probably isn't in town, unless he's disguised, but I don't think..." Jim paused, realizing Artie wasn't listening but rather standing rigidly as if listening for something.

"What is it, Artie?" Jim asked frowning. "Did you hear something? What did it sound like?" Jim questioned.

"Like, well, a bird." Artie explained, moving a curtain away from the nearest window and peaking out.

"An Indian?" Jim suggested.

"Perhaps..." Artie pulled out his gun and cocked it. "Keep thinking, I'll just go and check."

"You want me to come with you?" Jim offered starting to get up.

"No, no. Sit down!" Artie fussed. "Sit and drink your water! You wanna get dehydrated?!"

Jim chuckled and sat down obediently. He kept a close eye on his friend as he left the car, listening intently when he was no longer in view as he closed the door behind him. He knew it took a lot for one small noise to concern Artie so much and he wanted to be sure everything was alright. After a moment of silence, he shrugged and continued to sip his water.

"JIM!"Jim jumped at the exasperated yell, which was obviously a cry for help. Jim felt his heart stop as he heard a strangled cry come from the end of the car. Jim dropped his cup in horror. "Artie? Artie?!" He ran to the door, pistol drawn and cocked. Swinging the door open with a rush of adrenaline, he froze. "Artie!" He gasped. He couldn't believe the horrible sight before his eyes. Artie lay on his back, Unmoving, blood quickly staining his white shirt, but the worst was the throwing knife that protruded from his mid-shoulder. Jim cringed at the sight of it. He dropped to his knees beside his friend, quickly looking around for any sign of the attacker, but their was no one to be seen. Jim looked back down at Artie.

"Artie. Artie!" No reaction. Jim looked down at the knife. Who had done this to his friend. Whoever it was had to pay, and pay hard. Carved initials on the knifes handle caught Jim's eye.

DD...Deadly Denis.

He had to get Artie to the hospital, and fast. Artie's breathing was very labored and rugged and he was loosing way to much blood. A change in Artie's breathing startled Jim and he pressed his fingers to his friends neck. Is pulse was hard to find and when he found it, it was way too weak. "Artie, hold on!" Jim said, trying to hide the fear that stained his voice. "Artie, stay with me." Jim quickly, but gently, slid his arm behind his friend, propping him up so he could move him inside. Jim cringed as a pained moan that came from his friend.
"Artie, can you hear me?" Jim croaked, seeing the grimace on his friends face and feeling his breathing quicken under Jim's supporting arms.

"Jim?" Artie croaked, barely reaching a whisper as he looked up at his friend through blurry eyes.

"I'm here, Artie. Stay awake." Jim instructed, trying to hide the fear that stained his voice. Artie winced as Jim tried to move him.

"Jim... I...I can't..." Artie moaned trying to ketch his breath.

"No, no. You can, you can." Jim cut in, stammering. Quickly trying to pick him up again.

"Jim..." Artie pressed hoarsely. "Jim!..."

His friend stopped at the second time as Artie started coughing weakly. "Jim... It's... No use..." Artie pressed, gasping for air as he suddenly found it harder to breath.

"Artie, no, no, Artie!" Jim exclaimed, scared as his friends eyes began to close and his breathing slowed down dangerously. "Artie, Its ok. Everything's going to be alright, buddy. Just hold on. Don't give in!" Jim begged. Tears began to swell up in Jim's eyes as Artie moved to grab his arm reassuringly.

"Jim... Promise... Promise me you'll...Hold up the.. fort..." Artie's struggling sentence faded to an end as his head lulled to the side and Jim felt his tense form slacken. His grip on Jim's arm loosened and his hand slid and dropped to the floor beside him. Jim's breath got caught in his throat and his face paled in pure horror. Tears streamed freely down his face as he looked down at his friend, who lay motionless in his arms, not even the slight rise and fall of the chest to indicate breathing was visible.

"Artie?...Oh, Artie..."

Well, here's my first chapter! Please R&R. Oh, Artie...