AMBUSH!

By: KellyA

Part 1

"AMBUSH!" Larabee's shout spurring the four lawmen's horses forward as bullets whizzed past their heads and ricocheted off nearby rocks. Horses stretched out their necks laying ears flat and digging in their hooves to speed their riders away from the threat. Chris brought his arm across his chest and fired his colt under his arm. Vin rose up in his stirrups and turned his body bringing his Winchester to bare, hoping to slow their pursers or at least make them reconsider their aggressive attack. Ezra and Josiah raced ahead, riding low in their saddles unable to shoot with their fellow lawmen trailing behind them. Chris glanced sideways in time to see Vin catch a bullet causing him to lose his grip on his rifle and slump forward over his saddle, his horse never breaking stride. Instinctively Vin grabbed hold of the saddle horn, trying to ignore the flare of pain that brought a wave of dizziness. Larabee veered his galloping horse over and grabbed the reins of Vin's horse urging the mount to keep pace. Unable to fire the two men kept their heads down and didn't look back; relying on their loyal steeds and riding like the devil himself was on their heels.

Chris looked ahead to see Ezra and Josiah pulling up in front of a small, broken-down cabin. They leaped off their horses waving them off and immediately took up positions next to the door and laying down cover fire for their friends. Ezra noticed that their pursers seemed to have slowed becoming more cautions.

Chris brought their horses up to the front and yelled, "Josiah, grab Vin he's been hit!" He jumped from his horse and took up firing as the huge gunslinger quickly went to Vin who was sliding off his horse. Josiah swept up the wounded tracker before he hit the ground, then half dragged and half carried him quickly inside. Chris and Ezra tumbled inside with Ezra kicking the door shut; bullets splintering the doorframe and imbedding into the wood door. They remained on the floor under the only window giving their hearts a chance to pull up on their frenzied beating.

Sanchez had placed the young tracker on a rickety cot that sat in the far corner of the one-room cabin; blood poured through Vin's clenched fingers that were pressed into his side. Josiah replaced Vins's hand with his own bandana, applying pressure to the wound and causing an enormous bolt of pain to pass through the tracker's body. Vin sucked in his breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ride out the pain.

"Sorry Vin, I've gotta stop the bleeding," Josiah stated, as he worked diligently on the wound.

Ezra pushed himself against the wall as he quickly reloaded his gun and tried to calm his breathing. It had become suddenly quiet, which made him very nervous. Chris cocked an ear toward the window, trying to pick up any sound in the now deathly silent world. All he could hear was Vin's ragged breathing inside the small cabin. A deep, malicious voice finally broke the late afternoon silence.

"How's it feel Larabee, to watch your friends shot down?"

"Friends of yours?" Ezra coolly remarked his tone laced with sarcasm as he arched a sandy eyebrow toward the blond leader and tried to keep his grin from expanding across his face.

Larabee shot him a dispassionate sidelong glance that Ezra ignored. Chris holstered his gun and keeping his head below the window crept over to Josiah. Chris watched as the ex-preacher carefully pulled the tracker's shirt away from the wound. "Help me raise him up," Josiah instructed. Chris snaked an arm under his friend and raised him up slightly, feeling Vin's hands grasped his shirt and gasp. "Sorry, Vin, it'll just be a moment."

Josiah checked Vin's back disappointed that there wasn't an exit wound. Chris gently lowered his suffering friend as Josiah soaked a rag with water from his canteen and pressed on the still bleeding wound. Vin grabbed the sides of the cot as tears pulled away from the corners of his closed eyes and his breathing hitched in his throat.

"How ya doing, cowboy?" Chris asked, anxious blue eyes replacing his usual stoic gaze; his forehead creased in concern. He hadn't known the tracker long and was always taken aback by the brotherly feelings that rose up.

The lean tracker managed a pain-ridden smile and replied, "I've been better." His jaw clenched, trying to hold back the agony that emanated from his side and seemed enclose his whole body in barb wire.

Chris smiled slightly and motioned to Josiah as he stepped away. Josiah wiped another wet cloth over Vin's forehead and allowed it to rest on his eyes hoping to soothe the man's pain. Josiah squeezed Vin's arm and stepped over to join Chris on the other side of the small cabin.

"The bullet's still in him. It's too deep, I can't get it out," Josiah explained, keeping his eyes on the prone form of his comrade and friend. "We need Nathan. There's nothing more I can do." He too was always amazed at the level of affection he felt for the men he worked with, men he barely knew.

Chris clapped the ex-preacher on the shoulder. "Do what you can to make him comfortable." Josiah nodded and returned to Vin's side.

"How is our Mr. Tanner?" Ezra inquired as Chris returned to his place by the window.

Chris glanced over at the gambler expecting to see a smug smile pasted on his face; instead, Ezra's face was a mask of unfeigned concern. The enigmatic conman never ceased to surprise him. One moment Ezra appeared unconcerned about anyone other than himself, the next-was anyone's guess. You just never knew who or what Ezra Standish would care about at any given time.

"Not good," Chris replied looking over his shoulder at his friend. "We have to get him out of here."

Standish saw the concern on Chris' face and knew it was serious. It was rare that Chris Larabee showed any emotion on his harden countenance. The somber gunslinger was almost as good as he was at hiding his true feelings, but not when it came to someone he cared about. Ezra knew that Chris and Vin shared an extraordinary bond. He also knew the others were all developing an unfathomable relationship with each other. He wondered how it felt to share that kind of camaraderie-someone to confide in and trust and someone who actually cared. The only friend Ezra Standish had was Ezra Standish, or so he believed. He did find himself trusting these unique individuals more and more every day, he's wasn't so naïve to believe the sentiment was reciprocated by the others.

Ezra removed his hat and ran a hand through his brown hair. 'Only one you can trust is you.' His mother's mantra trying to wipe away the wave of envy that suddenly engulfs him. Ezra released the grip on his hat immediately working to fix the dented brim as he regretfully stated, "Your friends out there might prove an obstacle in that endeavor. I don't think they're going to let us leave here alive."

Chris stared down at the warped floorboards of the cabin for a moment his lips pressed in a firm line as his eyes seemed to search the aged wood for an answer. Blowing out a tired breath and rubbing the back of his neck Chris sidled up next to the window and hollered out into the growing darkness. "What do you want?" It was a moment before anyone answered.

"We want you Larabee for killing our brother!" The reply came back. The voice was different from the first, younger.

Larabee laid his head against the window frame and closed his eyes with a resigned sigh. How many men had he killed in his life? More than he had wanted to and more than he cared to remember. The years after his wife and son were killed, were a blur of whiskey, women and death. He didn't think he ever killed in cold blood, but he definitely made himself available to anyone with a gun and a grudge.

"Do you perchance know to whom these gentlemen are referring?" Ezra questioned from his position on the other side of the window, as he raised his gun hoping for a target. He wouldn't hesitate to better the odds in their favor.

Chris gave the suave conman a-you've-got-to-be-kidding smirk then turned his attention back to their unseen assailants. An unkind smile spread across his handsome face as his voice took on a flippant tone. "Could you be more specific?" Ezra barked out a sharp guffaw. 'well so much for diplomacy.'

"You don't remember…You murdering dog...!" This voice was abruptly cut off and the one from before replaced it.

"We're the McCormick brothers. You killed our brother Paul last year in Nevada. Now, do you remember?"

Chagrin flickered across Chris' features, and Ezra hoped that maybe this was all some kind of mistake. Chris sank to the floor, pushing his dark hat back on his head.

"Maybe these gentlemen have made a grievous error," Ezra quietly asked, joining Chris on the floor.

"No, I killed him," Chris stated matter of factly, scratching an itch in his ear.

"I was afraid of that," the disappointed gambler murmured under his breath, there went any chance of talking their way out of this.

Sanchez came over and squatted down in front of his two friends. Chris looked over Josiah's shoulder at Vin who lay motionless on the tenuous cot. He couldn't even tell if Vin was still breathing and was relieved when he let out a small moan. He turned his attention back to Josiah.

"He's not doing good," Josiah answered Chris' questioning stare. Chris dropped his head in thought, and then started to recount. His voice was meditative, but Ezra and Josiah could detect a deep, pulsing rage.

"It was over a year ago. I was passing through a small town in Nevada. A town that the McCormick brothers controlled using fear and murder. The town had finally got a sheriff, who was willing to stand against them, Sheriff Coffey." Chris smiled as he remembered the large middle-aged lawman who managed to keep a twinkle in his eye and justice in his heart. "Paul McCormick was the youngest and probably the worst of the five brothers. There was Sam, the oldest, Russ, Tom, and one I can't remember. Well, Paul decided he wanted another man's wife, only one problem she didn't want him, which didn't deter him in the slightest." Chris shifted his position slightly on the floor, keeping one ear tuned to the outside. The three men turned at the sound of a moan from Vin. Chris kept his eyes on Vin's inert form as he continued, "Paul decided to take matters into his own hands. He killed the woman's husband and dragged his body through town. Sheriff Coffey arrested him; Paul McCormick was convicted and sentenced to hang. Of course, his brothers had other ideas. One night they came and broke their brother out of jail. There was a shoot out. The sheriff was killed, and I killed Paul." Chris closed his eyes reliving the moment in his mind. He had had a deep respect for Sheriff Coffey, almost a fatherly admiration. Larabee knew he shot Paul out of pure unadulterated revenge. "The four remaining brothers scattered and I left town. I figured it was finished."

"Apparently your assumption was far from correct," Ezra commented dryly.

"Larabee! How's your friend doing?" A voice called from the outside followed by the sound of laughter.

"I'm sorry I killed your brother!" Chris yelled out in reply, Josiah and Ezra exchanged surprised expressions. "He should have hung like the low-life scum he was. I did him a favor by shooting him."

Ezra broke into a grin that lit up his green eyes; Josiah bowed his head hiding the smile that tugged at his lips. The three lawmen suddenly flattened themselves against the floor as bullets flew above their heads in retaliation for the disparaging remark.

Josiah raised his head. "It would appear, brother Chris, that you struck a nerve," Josiah voiced with a faint smile.

After a few moments of silence, Chris cautiously raised and peered out the window. All he could see was a dark silhouette of a rocky outcrop several yards away covered by a lot of dead brush. He slid back down to the floor, trying to come up with a plan that didn't end with them all dead. This was his fault.

Ezra was counting the ammo he had left. "I'm afraid I'm down to ten bullets in my paltry arsenal."

"I don't have much more," added Josiah. Chris nodded, contemplating the situation. How many times had he and the others been trapped against insurmountable odds and escaped? This time he wasn't so sure they'd be so lucky.

"Larabee! We have a proposition for you," one of the McCormick's called out from the rocks.

"Yeah, what is it?" Chris answered forcing his voice to remain firm and even.

"We just want you. Come out and we'll let your friends go. We've had enough fun let's get this over with. We'll give you one hour to decide."

Josiah and Ezra regarded Chris intently. They both knew the scrupulous gunslinger wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice himself. Chris turned to Josiah and asked, "How's he doing?"

"He's holding his own, but he needs medical attention and soon. I got the bleeding stopped, but he lost a lot of blood and he's very weak." Josiah paused taking a deep breath then slowly let it out. "I'm afraid if infection sets in he won't be able to fight it." Josiah hated feeling so helpless. "And I'm almost out of water," he added shaking his partially filled canteen.

Chris let out a long breath and bowed his head. "I guess it's too much to hope that JD and Buck will come looking for us soon," Josiah ventured to ask.

"They don't expect us back for at least two days," Chris answered, raising his head.

"And I believe the telegram we received requesting our assistance may have been a ruse, and these men planned this whole escapade," Ezra added. He didn't believe in coincidence. These men had known where they would be and were ready for them.

"Damn," Chris chided himself for not checking the message out. These men depended on him, and he had failed them. This one mistake might cost the life of his friends. Ezra would be shocked to know that Chris did consider him a friend, annoying and frustrating at times, but a friend nonetheless. The honorable gunslinger at first never thought he'd trust or even like the brash, seemingly self-absorbed conman, until Vin showed him something surprising. Two weeks ago, Vin had taken him to the schoolhouse where several boxes had been delivered containing all manner of school supplies. Vin pulled out a piece of paper that was stuck on the side of one of the crates. The paper was a partial receipt with paid in full by E. Standish written on it. Chris started looking at Standish in a whole new light.

Chris' jaw tensed as he clenched his teeth. "Okay, here's the plan, we wait for it to get a little darker, then I make a break for it. I'll lead them away and you two get Vin back to town."

"Chris, you can't," Josiah protested, he knew Chris felt responsible, but the ex-priest was not willing to let the blond gunslinger throw away his life for the rest of them.

"Mr. Larabee you will be committing suicide. They most definitely want to do you great bodily harm," Ezra said rather nonchalantly, but allowing the concern he felt to show on his face.

Chris' icy blue eyes stared intently at Ezra and Josiah. "Look, we don't have any other choice. Help won't be here soon enough; we're almost out of ammo, and Vin is almost out of time." Josiah and Ezra were momentarily silent knowing Chris was right but hoping to think of another option.

"There's no guarantee that they'll all ride away and let us go," Josiah pointed out.

"I know, but I'm willing to bet they want me bad enough to forget about you. At least long enough so you can make an escape. Anyway, it's a gamble we have to take."

"The odds are definitely not in the house's favor, Mr. Larabee," Ezra calmly voiced, running his hand down the side of his stubbled face his mind spinning trying to come up with suitable alternatives. He hated holding a losing hand. Chris Larabee was a man he had come to respect. He was not willing to watch him throw his life away.

Chris turned his back on his friends ending the discussion. Josiah and Ezra stared blankly at each other neither one knowing what to say. Josiah shook his head and returned to Vin's side. He hadn't realized the bounty hunter was awake until he heard his weak voice.

"Josiah, you can't let Chris do this. They'll kill him," the tracker gasped, his eyes trying to focus on the big man. "There has to be another way."

The ex-preacher sat down and soaked a cloth in water wiping away the sweat on Vin's brow. He turned and looked back at Chris who was staring morosely out the window. His arms crossed reflecting the determination his handsome face. "I can't stop him," his voice was filled with apprehension, afraid that instead of losing one friend he'll be losing two.

TBC