Josiah had wanted to ride out with Larabee and Tanner. He had wanted to be the one to exact vengeance for the pain inflicted, mentally and physically, on his friends. But he was not willing to face his own guilt if he rode after revenge rather than doing everything he could to save those who had been left in the desert. And, in a way to that end, the decision to accompany Nathan had been a selfish one. He wanted to be nearby if his friend needed reassurance again from the earlier vicious verbal attack.

So, as usual, Josiah Sanchez would abide by Larabee's directions, not because he felt obligated, or out of fear or respect or even the belief that the man's plans were the right ones.

Especially when he was driven, the gunfighter could make mistakes. No, Josiah Sanchez complied for the same reason he did anything. It suited him. And there was something else. The thought was beginning to form in his mind that there was much more to this than a mere kidnapping or revenge.

He made the decision because it suited him. Just like it suited him to think of the others as friends, not family. JD needed family, not him. His family wasn't close. His family caused pain. His family caused confusion, a loss of balance. He'd thought once about it, that he might consider these men his family - family the way it should be. He thought about it long and hard one night, aided in his insight by the whiskey. But he had clearly decided 'no'. They were his brothers as in the 'Family of Man', but on a personal level they were his friends. He'd found them, chosen them, worked at it and earned the friendship. It was something he couldn't imagine a family could give him.

So, there would be time later to deal with whatever Larabee and Tanner left of the men who had done this. For now he would help his friends, but later... Josiah did not believe the adage 'What goes around, comes around' - not without mortal intervention. But he believed the tenet should be true and helped it along anytime he could.

If Larabee and Tanner left any of the men alive, Sanchez would see to it that they would find themselves abandoned in the middle of the desert. And not Chris Larabee or Nathan Jackson, not anger or reason, would stop him.

What goes around comes around wasn't from the Bible. Josiah was very much afraid, from his past experience, God's sense of justice was on a much higher plane. And yet he prayed. He prayed for it to be in His interest to see over their three wayward companions and bring them to safety. At least give the rest of seven a chance to find their missing comrades in time... a chance to help them.

Just a chance.

He knew what these men could do given the smallest chance. He prayed, but, as was so often lately, he was afraid of the prayer. Because, what if the answer was no? He had actually begun to find some reconciliation between his father's religion and all the other religions... it had been at such a great cost... if this prayer wasn't answered…

What was that?

Something glinted in the sun. It brought the disillusioned preacher back to his surroundings. The wind was up even more. Fine sand, a harbinger of the approaching storm, stung his face and neck. The land was so flat that he could see a fine ribbon of brown separating the horizon from the sky. He was seeing the dust storm roiling down.

Then the flash came again. It was to his right... toward a small stand of rock. Buck would try to make it to shelter if possible. Josiah knew that. Despite the knowledge, he started to continue to follow the trail that had been left by the enemy. He was afraid to veer in the direction of the shade for fear that his friends had not been able to travel that far and to veer off the mark in the coming storm could result in losing the trail they were following.

But nothing that big, natural to the desert, would reflect the sun like that.

By the time these thoughts had processed, Josiah had already kneed his horse close enough to recognize the source of the reflection.

A canteen.

It had a bullet hole in it, but damn it, it was a canteen. And two sets of footprints led from it toward the rocks. He could still see Nathan and the wagon in the far distance. That meant Nathan could see him. He headed his horse for the outcropping.

Thank you, Lord. The answer had been yes.


Perkins had just filled his canteen and stood up to scan the horizon. At first he thought what he saw was a buzzard low on the horizon. Then, elongated and distorted by the liquidy heat waves rising from the desert floor, he thought it might be a mirage.

But when a second figure on horseback crested the slight rise, silhouetted in the afternoon sun, he realized two avenging angels were bearing down on them. He realized the horsemen were very close. And he realized he and his partners were in trouble. "Blake!"

The tension in his voice had Bannister quickly scanning the landscape for danger. He and the other two saw what had Perkins distressed at the same time.

JD didn't know why they had blindfolded him. But with nothing to see, he had turned inside himself and was lost in thought. He was worried about his friends in the desert and Nathan who they had left injured.

He ran through his mind different ways it could play out in Ezra's room when he got his hand on the gambler's hidden gun. He didn't even hear Perkins' worried voice. The first thing he knew, he was startled out of his reverie by two sets of rough hands grabbing him and unceremoniously throwing him into a saddle. He held on as best his roped hands would allow as the horse was jolted from a standstill to a gallop.

The men were silent in their flight and it was unnerving to the boy. The sounds of the horses and leather squeaking on leather, the jingle of reins was all he could hear. What he did know was that wherever these men were this anxious to get to, he wanted no part of it. So JD used every trick he could think of or any he thought might work to slow them down.

Bannister dared a glance over his shoulder. The two men following them were close enough to be identified.

Larabee and Tanner.

Damn and double damn. The Boss had carefully schooled them on these seven men and how he thought they would each react in given situations. The Boss had wanted his men to observe and make sure they reacted as was predicted. But that son-of-a-bitch had told them that there was no way they would catch up to them in the desert.

Yet here they were. Tanner and Larabee. Deadly aim, long distance aim, willingness to kill. Damn. They might hesitate to shoot for a time, worried they would hit the kid, but eventually…

Bannister made his decision. Somehow the peacekeepers were closing in. On the run he loosened one boot from a stirrup and jammed it into JD's chest.

Unsuspecting of the attack, the boy rolled backwards over the mare's rump. But only one foot cleared its stirrup. Barely registering what was happening, he found himself dragged behind the racing horse, helpless with his hands tied and eyes covered, he felt this must be some entertainment for the outlaws. He raised his arms and tried to protect his head as best he could.

Chris was riding low over his gelding's neck. They had been lucky to stalk the enemy as far as they had, but now with them in sight, like a cougar on the hunt, he was determined to run this prey to the ground.

When Chris saw JD dislodged, his first response was to let Vin stop the boy's horse and tend to him. Larabee wanted those men. Suddenly it hit him, more of an emotion than a crystallized thought, but Buck wasn't here to protect the Kid and would be pissed if... the space, the time that separated Larabee from Tanner's horse, the space of a heartbeat, could add to serious injury for the boy. The thoughts translated into the slightest of mixed signals to Larabee's black. That, in combination with the gelding's exhaustion, caused him to give a quick staggering stutter step before he regained his footing again and tried to obey his master's directions.

But the stumble seem to release Larabee from his focus on revenge. His horse was giving all he could and then some, but he was spent. The horses those men rode were fresh.

Larabee pulled up and wheeled smoothly around to help Vin stop JD's horse.

JD could tell by the abruptness of the stop that someone was controlling the horse now. He was struggling to rub the blindfold away from his eyes, sit up, and free his boot all at the same time. Nothing was getting accomplished. Before he got enough composure to take one thing at a time, he felt strong hands on his shoulders. He immediately began to struggle, which served to agitate the skittish horse, and it threatened to take off again.

"Be still, JD."

"Vin?" His voice was heavy with relief.

The tracker pulled the blindfold away from the boy's eyes. JD had to blink quickly as his eyes adjusted to the sudden re-acquaintance with the brilliant, unforgiving sunlight.

The tracker freed his friend's ankle from the stirrup before he moved back and cut the ropes from his wrists.

"Are you all right?" The bounty hunter asked. He bent down to try to get a glance at the boy's eyes. The boy's eyes couldn't hide the truth; they told everything. But now those eyes were lowered and hidden behind the dark bangs that were covered in a light dusty sand. "JD, look at me."

JD lightly put a hand on his friend's chest as if needing physical proof he was real. But he did finally raise his eyes to look around. Chris had stepped up behind Tanner and JD's eyes brightened at the sight, but he kept searching.

"They're gone." Vin offered.

Memories erupted, "Buck and Ezra!"

"Nathan and Josiah have gone after them…"

"Nathan's okay?"

"He's fine. Worried about you."

JD pushed the hair back from his eyes and behind one ear, a gesture the observant tracker had come to recognize as something the boy did before he moved in a hurry. "We gotta…"

"Get you cleaned up and seen to." Tanner kept a hand on his shoulder so he couldn't rise. Larabee handed Vin a canteen and he in turn gave it to the boy who took it thankfully and greedily.

"I ain't hurt..."

Vin took the canteen and poured the water over the boy's head. "Vin you can't waste that!" JD pulled back.

"We got plenty. We need to get your body temperature down."

"Please, Vin...Chris..." He was anxious to go. He forced himself to his feet. "Buck and Ezra don't have water!"

"Me and Vin gotta rest our horses." It was the first thing the gunfighter had said. He had the reins of all three horses in his hands. The two blacks were lathered, breathing hard and dancing and pawing the ground. JD could tell they smelled the small water source in the Skinout beside them.

The poor animals were desperate for water. JD nodded. And with that decision his mind registered the pain his body was in. His knees almost gave out in response. Vin was there to catch him and help him up the rocky incline.

It was one of the mysteries of nature that an underground spring fed into this giant bowl-like structure in the middle of the desert while the flatlands for miles around were starving for even a drop of moisture.

Larabee took on the care of the horses and let Vin tend to the boy. He walked them, controlled the water so they wouldn't flounder, even brushed some of the dried lather and grit from their coats.

He listened to Tanner gently coax the story out of their youngest member. Yes, Buck and Ezra had been alive the last time he saw them. Chris and Vin shared a quick expression of relief and the tension ratcheted down a notch. But not for long after JD described the injuries sustained by the two and how they had been left vulnerable to the desert.

Vin was glad to see that the sunburn was the worst injury the boy had to be concerned about. The cuts and scrapes caused by being dragged by the horse were thankfully minor. The tracker checked and cleaned each one carefully as he listened to the youngster's story.

"I'm sorry, Vin." JD offered at last, "They kept me blindfolded. I don't know how long we rode, or direction or ..." He kept throwing quick worried glances at their sullen leader who stomped back and forth tending to the horses. Vin had to force him to remember to drink the tepid water.

"That's my job, Kid. I'll find 'em." He didn't miss the way JD watched Chris. "You did good. Didn't he, Chris?" The inflection of his voice went unnoticed by the young sheriff, but it was like a splash of cold water in the face of the gunfighter.

He had ignored JD, being so preoccupied with the situation. He had busied himself with the horses to avoid the emotions JD and his story threatened to bring forth. Because of it the boy thought he'd done something wrong; thought he'd failed his friends. Larabee was again reminded of the strength of a single word.

Chris squatted down in front of his friends and gently double-checked the cuts and long scrapes Vin had cleaned. "You did real good, Kid." He was rewarded with a small, proud smile. There was still worry, but the tension ratcheted down again.

Between his anxiety and finally feeling safe under the protection of two of his heroes, JD could no longer fight off the sleep that forced itself on him. Chris watched him concentrate on forcing his eyelids open the last two times before exhaustion finally won and sleep came. For a flash it took Chris back to Adam fighting his bedtime with everything he had. Usually it was because Buck was telling one of his outlandish stories... how the polecat got his stripe or the bear lost his tail. Larabee clamped down on the memories of Adam and Buck or anything that could hurt too much.

When the boy finally dozed, Larabee took advantage of the high ground to check out the desert to the northwest. Then Vin was beside him.

The wind whipped back the wide brims of their hats. Tiny pinpricks of sand hit their faces. Chris squinted and studied the same ribbon of brown separating the horizon and the sky that had concerned Josiah.

"We still got four hours, maybe five." Vin tried to offer reassurance in the arrival time of the sandstorm.

"But it's coming." Larabee knew the horses had to drink and rest. He knew they had to take care of JD. All he could do was wait and wonder if Josiah and Nathan would find the others before the sand came in.