Chapter 10: A Brave Escape & the Indian Camp

"Get on out there," the deputy demanded harshly as he shoved Jack forward. Dust billowed about in the wind as she was marched through the street. Residents lined the streets to watch her death, like the barbarians that they truly were.

Her hands were tied tightly with rope behind her back, disabling her from hitting someone and escaping fairly easily. She quickly looked around her, her eyes searching for the hope that she so desperately needed as she came closer and close to the hangman's noose. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she saw the man that she had so desperately searched for. Schultz stood up from his seat upon the wagon as she was marched passed him, Django was ready on his horse for the escape plan to play its course.

Her eyes quickly snapped to the above buildings as she watched two men bolt across the roof tops carrying long rifles. She chuckled as the deputy forced her to stop her to glare up at the noose that hung from the high wooden pillars.

"Just a short drop," the deputy whispered in her ear. She turned to him and looked deeply into his eyes; there was no smile of amusement to be found as she stared into his eyes.

"You won't live very long," she said emotionlessly and then turned to look at the sheriff, "Can I be on my own horse?"

The sheriff looked down at her from where he stood and shrugged his shoulders as he spoke over the preacher's prayer, "Hell," he looked around him and then to the young woman, "I don't see why not."

"Buck," he demanded as he looked to the deputy, "Get her horse."

The deputy did as he said and hurriedly brought Black Jack toward Jack. The horse pawed at the ground angrily as he looked at his owner with her hands tied behind her back.

"Now help her up there," the sheriff demanded of his deputy.

"I don't need your help," she hissed in anger as she pulled herself on top of the beast without the use of her hands, a feat that seemed almost impossible to the men standing around her.

The preacher continued on with his prayer as Jack sat atop her black mustang. She shook her head in annoyance as the preacher screamed to God in Heaven, begging for Him to forgive her sins.

"And I don't need your preachin'," she hissed as she glared at the preacher in black. She smiled wickedly as the man of the cloth looked up at her in confusion, not knowing whether he should keep on preaching or not.

"I think that's enough," the sheriff said as he looked to the dumbfounded preacher and then back to the outlaw in a dress.

"Thank ya kindly," Jack announced happily as she watched the preacher move to the side as Black Jack was pulled forward and the noose was lowered around her neck. The deputy fitted the rope around her neck, carefully avoiding her eyes.

"Mad Jack Hatfield," the sheriff announced ignoring the sour, annoyed expression that painted Jack's face at her given nickname, "You are convicted of crimes of the most barbaric, for the violent murder of twelve-"

Two shots rang out through the dusty streets and screams from the on looking residents filled air causing immense confusion.

Jack smiled as the rope fell around her, being cut in half by a bullet. She kicked Black Jack in the flanks and they quickly bolted forward just as the sheriff fell to the ground from a bullet in the head. She kept herself balanced in the saddle as gun shots flew around her as she made a daring escape. She could hear horse hooves behind her and turned her head slightly to see Django following close behind her. The wind whipped through her long dark hair as she felt herself coming closer and closer to freedom. She turned back once again to see Schultz barreling toward them in his wagon; she couldn't help but laugh with great enjoyment as she watched the tooth bounce frantically back and forth as they rushed across the land toward the Indian settlement where they would be protected for the time being.

...

Wahl watched as the scene unfurled. He watched the residents of the town rushing about to find some sense of order in the chaos that had unfurled. He had known that an escape plan had been put in place; he had never underestimated Jacqueline Hatfield, or any other Hatfields that he had dealings with, and they were a clever bunch of folks.

"God damn it," he heard the voice of Bobby McCoy announce as he hurried upon his horse to ride away from the scene to chase after the escaping group.

Wahl chuckled to himself as he calmly pulled himself up on his buckskin gelding. He kicked the horse lightly in the flank as he pulled his lassoing rope from its place around the horn and readied himself to catch a McCoy boy. His horse pounded across the ground as he quickly came up behind Bobby McCoy and his nag.

He twirled the rope above his head, leaning into the horse as they moved quickly across the flat land in the same direction that the outlaw had ran. He quickly allowed the rope to escape his grasp and fly through the air as if it were a demon snake from Hell aiming to catch and drag its next victim into Hell.

The rope latched around the large man's body and Wahl backed his horse up quickly causing Bobby to be jerked out of his saddle as his nag kept running forward as if the rider was still upon its back. Bobby fell to the ground with a loud plop. He grabbed the rope as fear coursed through his veins; he knew being roped only led to a slow and painful death. He tried to take the rope off of his body, but as he did the rope tightened and he looked up to see a man he had seen once before.

"You son of a-"

Wahl turned his horse around quickly and kicked him as hard as he could, his spurs digging into the animal's stomach in order to have the animal pick up speed. He could hear Bobby's screams from behind him as he drug the man to his death across the East Texas land. He smiled as he realized that he had done exactly what little Jack Hatfield had done, he had killed a McCoy and would warrant them to come after him for revenge.

He stopped his horse and smiled as his horse pawed at the ground just as Black Jack had done when he was annoyed. It made perfect sense that the two would do such a thing since the two horses came from the same mare.

Bobby moaned in pain as Wahl pulled himself off of his horse.

"Whoa Altivo," Wahl announced as he ground tied the buckskin colored horse and walked toward the man on the end of his rope.

His spurs sang a warning to the beat up man that he was on the prowl, readying himself to pounce and deliver the final blow.

"Bobby McCoy," Wahl announced happily, his Mississippi accent present as he looked down at the beaten and bruised man.

Bobby groaned as he looked up to the man that he immediately recognized and said, "Wahl-"

"Looks like you took a nasty fall," Wahl announced as he looked at the broken bones the protruded outside of his white skin and tattered clothes.

Wahl placed his hand around the butt of his gun, holding onto the ivory tightly as he pulled it from its holster. He opened the chamber and loaded it with new bullets and whistled as he did, only to put the beaten man on edge.

"Don't do this," Bobby demanded as he listened to the twirling of the chamber and the click of it being put back in place.

"Sorry Bobby," Wahl announced, "But I can't have you goin' after what's mine. And to be honest," he chuckled as he looked down on the man and pointed the pistol at his forehead, "You're a waste of flesh, but not a waste of a bullet. I'm gonna use you to send a message to your family."

Bobby moaned in pain for the last time just before a loud bang ripped through his reality and into the bone of his skull than finally piercing through his brain quickly ending the pain that he felt from the horrible dragging that Wahl had previously put him through.

Wahl smiled as he watched Bobby's nag walking lazily back toward his owner. He chuckled as he placed his pistol back into its home in his holster and walked toward the skinny animal.

"I've got a job for you," he announced childishly as he pulled the nag by the reins toward the dead body of Bobby. He looked down at the body of Bobby and snickered as he pulled the dead man to his feet.

"Come on Bobby," he demanded, "Justice calls."

Wahl placed the body atop the horse and tied him down so as to not fall from the saddle and to the ground where the McCoy clan could not find him.

"Now," Wahl stated as he finished tying the body down and pulled a paper from his vest pocket and placed it safely on the saddle, "Here's my message that you are going to deliver."

Wahl surveyed his work with a proud smile and slapped the animal on the rump hard. He watched as the animal slightly kicked as it galloped away from the scene carrying Bobby McCoy back to his murderous family.

"I'm always there for ya Jack," he announced happily as he pulled himself onto his horse and clicked his tongue to signal for the horse to move forward, "Even if ya don't like it."

...

King Schultz smiled as he looked around him to see the wondrous workings of the Indian culture. They had made their own little life seemingly in the middle of nowhere. He looked around for someone in particular. Django sat shooing the horses beside Bali, the man that had planned the brave escape. He hurried toward the two and smiled as he looked at the brave Cherokee.

"Excuse me," he said in Spanish as he looked down at the man, "Have you seen Jack?"

Bali smiled brightly up at the German bounty hunter and then pointed to his left and replied in Spanish, "Jack likes the creek. Try there, but be careful, Mad Dog is there, he bites."

"Gracias," Schultz said with a large, thankful smile and ignored Django's knowing glance as he hurried in the direction of where Jack had disappeared to.

Schultz careful made his way down the hill to the creek. He could see the setting sun reflect upon the water which created a beautiful scene that even the greatest of artist could not duplicate. Bright reds, yellows, and oranges painted the water as he moved toward the creek bed. Leaves crumpled under his feet as he walked toward it.

A horrible growl came from beside him; the growl was almost dog like. He looked to his right to see a young boy with a rope around his neck tied up like an unwanted dog. He felt a sense of horror come over him at the atrocity that he was staring at. Raw meat had been thrown upon the ground beside a tipped over bucket that must have held the boy's drinking water.

Schultz quickly made his way to the growling wild boy who was glaring at him with glassy eyes. The boy tugged at the rope around his neck as he tried to escape his bounds.

"I wouldn't step any closer," the soft voice of Jack announced from behind him.

Schultz stopped in his place and turned to see Jack looking at him from beside the water. He then turned to the boy and shook his head.

"What is this," he asked, "This isn't humane."

"He's sick," Jack informed him as she kept her gaze upon the rippling water in front of her, "His name is Mad Dog."

"What's wrong with him," Schultz asked as he watched saliva and foam fall from the young boy's mouth.

"He was bitten by a coyote on a hunting trip," she informed him, "He's rabid. There's nothing that can be done for him."

"So they tie him up," he asked in disbelief as he looked at the poor boy.

Jack looked away from the creek and looked to Schultz who was now walking toward her, moving away from the rabid child.

"They don't have the heart to put a bullet in his head," she informed him coldly. She could see the caring for the boy in his eyes and she shook her head as she added, "It's a sad fact of life out here. It's just the way that it is."

Schultz looked down at his feet in sympathy for the young boy.

"You care, don't you," he heard her ask.

He turned to look at her and looked into her eyes that beamed of understanding. He nodded at her words and then looked at the beautiful scene in front of them.

"It's good that you care," Jack whispered as she looked at him, taking in each small movement of his face, "You care about Django, and the boy, and hell bound outlaws…people that desperately need someone to care for them."

She shook her head at her words and smiled at him as she asked, "You see it as a flaw though, don't you King?"

Schultz shrugged his shoulders as he reached down to grab a perfectly shaped pebble and skipped it across the rippling creek. He turned to her and gave her a weak smile.

"What's the point in caring when you can't change anything," he asked, his accent strong in his words as he looked into her deep eyes, feeling as if he could stare at those eyes forever.

"Things eventually do change," she informed him as she picked up her own pebble and skipped it across the lake, her stone going further than his, "because of people that do care. People like you," she paused then added, "I could tell when I first saw you and Django ride into town."

He smiled at her words and said fondly, "You knew all that by one glance?"

"Well, it's not an everyday occurrence that you see a freed slave," she informed him with a shrug of her shoulders as she gazed into his brown eyes.

"I admire you Jacqueline," he stated softly, using her full name as he looked into her dark blue eyes. He smiled as he watched an unsure smile come across her face. She grabbed another rock and skipped it across the water once again.

"And why is that," she asked as she looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"You are the spirit of this age," he informed her in a matter of fact tone, "It's rare that you see something so based in reality. You are the beauty and the pain of this world."

She shook her head and chuckled at his philosophical words as she said, "I'm not the spirit of any age. All I am is an outlaw."

"That's not all you are," he informed her, his accent once again thick, "If you were just a common outlaw, you would have shot Django and I long ago and went about your way."

She lifted her brow as a smile came across her face. She turned away from him and looked into the distance and took a deep breath as she allowed the soft wind to blow softly through her thick hair.

"Sit with me," she whispered as she sat down on the leafy ground. She smiled as her fingers fiddled with the ends of her skirt as she looked over the water.

"Beautiful isn't it," she asked as she looked to the tree line where the sun slowly hid behind causing a distortion of the light upon the water, "I don't think I can ever see myself leaving the southland. It's just too beautiful. You know," she said as Schultz sat down beside her, "I feel sorry for any person that has never seen the true beauty of the South," she watched as he quickly glanced to the skyline and then back to her, "Look at me, you must be so homesick. You probably have seen far more beautiful things that just a sunset," a blush quickly found itself upon her cheeks.

Schultz smiled at her and replied, "And that's where you are mistaken Jack, I think this tops the list of beautiful sights."

She felt a tug at her heart at his words as she forced herself to look away from him and back to the sunset.

"I think this," Schultz announced, breaking the sudden silence between the two as he pulled her pistol from his vest, "belongs to you."

She looked at him in confusion as he placed the gun into her hands.

"You trust me," she asked as she looked into his deep brown eyes in slight disbelief.

"You haven't killed me yet," Schultz said with a chuckle and clapped his hand together in order to hopefully alleviate the tension that was forming between the two as they sat side by side on the creek bank taking in the beautiful sunset.

"I think," Jack whispered as she looked over to the water, halting before continuing on with her train of thought, "I think that you and Django should leave," she closed her eyes as she felt his concerned eyes upon her flesh, "It was selfish of me to ask you to protect me, it's my own mess."

Schultz snorted at her words and replied softly, "Jack if you're worried about-"

"I've found myself caring about you," she stopped, "and Django as well, if something were to happen to you, I'd never forgive myself," she shook her head and wiped a stray strand away that had fallen into her eyes, "I will still keep to my word and give you the reward money, it's the least I can do, but I want you to leave."

Schultz quickly grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his own as he looked deeply into her worried blue eyes. He felt a tug inside of him as he took in her features. She had been downright dangerous, but he had seen a softer side to her as she had in him with the poor rabid boy just up the hill.

"I gave my word that I'd protect you," he whispered as he watched her close her eyes and a smile tug at her lips, "I'm not going anywhere…but I'm still taking you back to Mississippi, but I will see if I can pay off the-"

"What makes you care so much," she asked as she looked up at him, interrupting him in an effort to not hear the hopeless suggestion that he was about to make, "What made you become a bounty hunter? Did you love someone?"

She moved ever so closer to him as if they were courting lovers. The smell of fresh linen and the intoxicating smell of tobacco ripped through her senses as she awaited the answer.

"There is a reason," he informed her in a heavily accented whisper, "A reason very similar to your revenge tale," he looked up to see Jack looking at him with concern and interest painted upon her features, he could smell her intoxicating perfume as the wind blew around her, "My brother was murdered in cold blood, two bullets in the chest. He was just a peaceful guy and some outlaw came into town and shot the bar up," he shrugged his shoulders casually, "It was a case of wrong place, wrong time."

"So you hunted the man down," she asked, a smile coming across her face, "Did you kill him?"

"I don't miss when I point my gun," he informed as he returned her large smile with his own large coy smile. He chuckled playfully.

She batted her lashes as she looked to him with a smile as she leaned closer to him, closing her eyes as she took in his distinct aroma. Her heart pounded as she made the first move.

Schultz felt his heart lurch as he watched the woman moving close to him with her eyes closed. She was a rather trusting person, allowing herself to be alone with him in the middle of nowhere. He tightened his grip on her hand that he had never allowed himself to release and smiled as the soft lilac of her perfume formed around him, creating a wonderful aromatic barrier around him to shield his senses from the smell of mud around them. He could feel her breath upon his skin as her lips lingered just above his teasingly. He was about to close the space when a familiar voice shattered their perfect moment.

"Aye Jack," Django announced from above the hill near the rabid child.

Schultz watched as Jack opened her eyes, annoyance clearly on her face as she quickly pulled away from him and ripped her hands out of his.

"What is it Django," she asked as she looked up to the freed slave.

"Bali sent for you," Django informed her as he pointed toward the camp site, "I think there's a problem with his sister or somethin'."

"Right," she said as she shot a sad look to Schultz, "Bali always had the most imperfect timing. Excuse me, King."

Schultz watched as Jack hurried from her place beside him. She quickly wiped the leaves off of her rump from where they sat. He watched as she walked with her head down as she made her way up the hill. He could see Django looking at Jack with a knowing smile on his face as he made his way down to them.

Django wore a large grin as he looked at the man that had purchased him and allowed him his freedom. He watched as Schultz pulled himself from the ground and stood tall as he wiped leaves off of his grey outfit.

"What," Schultz asked as he looked at his smiling friend.

"Nothin'," Django answered, his smile never faltering, "I just wasn't 'spectin' what I just saw."

Schultz felt a bright blush come over him as he held his hands in the air in a stopping motion, "You didn't see anything, Django. Jack and I were just talking."

"Right," Django said with a snort, "Talking, that's somethin' ya tell the master when he catches ya talkin' to his beautiful daughter when they were doin' what you and Jack almost did."

Schultz shrugged his shoulders and tried to explain, "Well I, you know, I didn't…she-"

"Hey," Django announced with a shrug, "she perty, ain't nothin' wrong with kissin' on a pretty woman, as long as she don't kill ya ass in the process."

Schultz laughed heartily at Django's response as they climbed up the hill together.

"So those Brittle brothers," Django started.

"Ah yes," he answered, "We will be leaving tomorrow morning. So I suggest for you to get a restful night's sleep. It will be a long ride."

...

Boyd and his rowdy family barreled across the land as they made their way toward Nacogdoches. Bobby hadn't given word as to what was going on in the town with Mad Jack Hatfield and they had become increasingly worried and enraged with each passing hour that he had not returned to them.

"Whoa," Boyd hissed to his horse as he watched Bobby's horse gallop toward them, carrying something rather large upon his back.

"Jesus fuck," a family member from behind him announced harshly as they watched the horse buck and the body of Bobby McCoy being thrown from the animal's back.

Boyd hurriedly jumped off of his horse and rushed toward the mangled body of his large cousin. He could smell the rank stench of blood upon Bobby's filthy clothes as he turned the body over to face him.

"Oh god damn," Boyd hissed as he looked at the bullet hole in the man's head. He felt rage fill his body as he looked down at yet another dead family member.

"There's a not," Tommy announced as he walked up behind Boyd. He quickly unpinned the note from Bobby's body and opened it. His eyes widened at the words that looked back at him in pitch black ink.

"It just says 'X Hatfield'," Tommy read aloud as he looked down at the body.

"That damned Hatfield bitch has done killed one too many of our family," Boyd hissed in anger as he pulled himself away from his deceased cousin.

"She dragged him by the looks of it," Tommy said as he examined the body, "Then put a god damned bullet in his head."

"Let this be known," Boyd screamed as he pulled himself on top of his horse and glared at each one of his relatives, "Bobby's death will not be in vain! We won't stop 'til we kill that Hatfield girl and every other Hatfield that gets in our way!"

So here's a very long chapter for you all filled with yummy gummy sweetness that is Schutlz and Jack. Did you enjoy it?

So who is Wahl? Any guesses? He kind of protected her from Bobby didn't he? Does he had good intentions or bad intentions for what he did?

Boyd is pretty pissed about this whole situation huh? Maybe he just needs to calm his tits. What do you think?

Reviews make me a very happy goblin.

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Review! :)