Out of the Iron Box

Scene One

The first thing to hit him was the heat. It rushed from behind the iron door like a fiery stampede escaping Hell. As Heath tumbled from the sweatbox into his arms Nick was assaulted by the smell: sweat, fever and death. "Heath … Heath!" Nick murmured as he held his brother. There was no response, no movement, no sign of life. He was too late. Nick pulled Heath to him and cradled him gently as he choked back tears. "Heath."

Suddenly Jarrod was beside them. "Heath." Jarrod took Heath from Nick as one might take a baby from his mother's arms. As Heath tried in vain to lift his head toward Jarrod's voice Nick saw, with palpable relief, that Heath, though terribly weak, was alive. He rose quickly as the doctor took his place at Heath's side. "Heath, everything's going to be all right," Jarrod continued, "I've brought a doctor." Nick stepped aside to give the doctor room to work and found himself standing alongside Judge Bentley.

"Who's responsible for this," the Judge asked.

"That's the man there, Judge," Nick pointed to Rizley. "That is if you can call him a man." The calm in his own voice surprised Nick. He watched for a minute as Rizley staggered and swayed to his feet. He was brushing dirt from his hat even as he was taken by the marshals. "He should be locked up here, right now," Nick stated.

"The marshals are taking him to the town jail," Judge Bentley replied.

"That is his right," Nick scoffed.

"This case will be properly investigated and adjudicated."

Nick stared after Rizley. "Investigated? Never mind that we were falsely arrested and used for slave labor, never mind that he tried to kill us," he returned his gaze to the judge. The ice in voice was belied by the fire in his eyes. "What about what he did to my brother?"

The judge continued, "With your statement we'll charge everyone involved. In court –"

Heath moaned softly behind them, drawing Nick's attention. Heath's shirt had been removed; he was cradled firmly in Jarrod's right arm. There were now three basins of water around them. From one Jarrod gently wiped his younger brother down with the cool water while from another the doctor carefully cleaned the raw, oozing wounds left by the whip. Heath grunted and parted his lips. The doctor removed a clean cloth from a third basin and wrung a few drops into his patient's open mouth. Heath's ravaged, swollen throat closed on the cool water. His body convulsed before his head dropped against Jarrod's chest as he again lost consciousness.

Nick knelt beside Jarrod and ran his hand through Heath's hair. "Doc," he implored, "can't we get him up out of the dirt? Rizley's got living quarters in there behind the office. I'll just bet there's a nice big tub." He looked down at Heath, "Double or nothing there's a real comfortable bed, too."

The doctor shook his head in response even as he continued his ministration. "Right now the cool night air is the best thing for him. Under different circumstances we would want to bring his body temperature down as quickly as possible but I don't want to immerse that leg or his back. There's too big a risk of infection or nervous shock."

"'Nervous shock,'" Nick repeated. "What's that?"

"Hold him well," the doctor said to Jarrod. He pulled an amber bottle from his bag. "Hope for his sake that he stays out." He began gingerly disinfecting the lash wounds. Heath did not move. The doctor continued more firmly and rapidly even as he responded to Nick.

"A condition we saw during the war: minor injuries killing men as if they'd been severely wounded. After the war we realized it happened with all kinds of injuries, even when there was no bleeding. Most doctors don't think much of it, but I've seen enough to know better. It's not just that we've got to cool him down. I've got to keep his breathing and his heart steady, try to prevent infection, most important we've got to get water into him."

"Then why –"

"You saw what happened," the doctor finally looked at Nick. "Just a few drops and he nearly choked on it! Before you ask, in his state salt can make it worse as much as better. Time, Mr. Barkley." The doctor returned his full attention to Heath. "Go find that bed. Open the windows, make the room as cool as possible. Make sure there are plenty of blankets on hand, too; he needs to be cooled down but he mustn't be allowed to catch a chill. I'll do everything I can for him, then we wait."

Scene Two

"You can't be serious," Nick muttered. Jarrod watched him closely. Nick was calm – too calm.

"It's the law," Jarrod replied.

Nick looked toward the bedroom. "The law's done enough."

Jarrod, Nick and the doctor had brought Heath to the bedroom where there was, in fact, a large, comfortable bed. They had laid Heath on his stomach to protect his back; his burned leg, treated and dressed, was splinted to protect it as well. Jarrod had gone into the small kitchen directly behind the office and fixed himself and Nick something to eat. The doctor left detailed instructions before finally being escorted out by a marshal. It was hours before Nick would leave Heath's side. Heath was still unconscious when Nick finally joined Jarrod in the kitchen.

Now Nick was seated at the table while Jarrod placed a cup of coffee and a bowl of soup before him. "That wasn't the law," said Jarrod. "That was small men with a taste of power abusing the law. I don't like this any better than you do but if we have any hope of convictions we have to proceed carefully."

"Conviction? That's fine if Heath recovers. If he doesn't I'll -"

Jarrod slammed a cabinet door, cutting Nick off. While the front door led from the office to the main compound there was a back door from the kitchen to a small, secluded strip between the warden's quarters and the fence. "Come with me," Jarrod opened the door, Nick just stared at him. They remained that way for a moment, then Nick rose, took the coffee and stepped passed Jarrod into the dark. Jarrod stepped away from building and looked around for prying ears. He finally said, "The marshals will transfer you and Heath into town first thing in the morning."

Jarrod was relieved to see the familiar flash of temper in Nick's eyes but what he heard sounded more like panic. "Is that safe? The last place I want to be is here but if Heath —"

"I spoke with the doctor," Jarrod reassured him. "He'll be back in the morning with the marshals; he'll watch out for Heath." He sighed. "You can't stay here. Heath can't stay here. Even with the marshals running things now we're lucky Heath is in that bed tonight. There are still charges pending against you; legally you're both still prisoners. They certainly couldn't leave two prisoners alone in the warden's office."

"You're no prisoner," Nick commented.

"No, I'm just their attorney, not to mention their brother, and if I didn't have to prepare your case I still wouldn't be allowed to stay here."

"To hell with the case!"

Jarrod shook his head. "Heath won't be recuperating in that fancy bed if he's here. If he's lucky he'll be on a cot in the infirmary, more likely a bunk in the barracks. Even if they want to there won't be a thing the marshals could do about that. Once we get him there Heath will be better off in town.

"I'll leave at sun-up. I'll arrange your bail and rooms at the hotel; you'll go directly there, I'll see to it. Then I'll head out to see that rancher, MacGowan, convince him to drop the charges."

"MacGowan," Nick's jaw clenched.

Nick remained uncharacteristically quiet. "What about MacGowan," Jarrod prodded.

"MacGowan caused this mess."

"I know it seems that way but I'm sure once he realizes he made a mistake –"

"MacGowan is as responsible for what happened to Heath as if he'd burned and whipped him and locked him in that damn box himself."

"What are you saying?"

"There was no mistake. MacGowan set us up." Nick looked into Jarrod's face. "He did this to us, to Heath."

Jarrod searched his Nick's eyes. What he found sent a chill up his spine. "I'll see him in the morning, I'll work it out."

"No." Nick's gaze went through his brother. "No deals, Jarrod. Heath and I will have our day in court. We will be cleared, then MacGowan, Barnes and Rizley will pay." Their eyes locked. "And if Heath dies, so will they."