The Trade
By: KellyA
Part 1"All right! Vin got another one!" JD cheered, falling back behind the over turned wagon as bullets bit into the tenuous wood near where his head was moments ago. The grinning lawman re-loaded his twin Colts and listened to the battle raging around him, ignoring the glare he was receiving from the red-clad cardsharp hunkered down next to him.
Several rather threatening looking men had ridden into town early that morning. Their questionable intentions quickly realized as they attempted to rob the Four Corners Bank. A fact that completely astounded the seven lawmen authorized to protect it. Hadn't these outlaws gotten the word that Four Corners was off limits.
"I'm sure we're all appreciative of Mr. Tanner's sharpshooting abilities," Ezra observed as he peered cautiously around the wagon than returned his condemning glare towards his youthful compatriot. "But I believe he still requires our assistance and you getting your head shot off will not help." JD oppressed a grin and tried to look appropriately regretful for his actions.
Ezra rolled his eyes. Mr. Wilmington's reckless influence was definitely rubbing off on the young easterner. Ezra returned his attention to the current mayhem, his eyes tracking up to the roof of the hotel where Vin had established an ideal perch, but where the outlaws were now focusing their full attention. Vin hunkered down as bullets flew over his head. Ezra smirked as one of the outlaw's shots smashed through Larabee's window on the second floor, the gunslinger would not be pleased. Ezra took a moment to reflect on why he was risking his neck for a dollar a day. The answer still eluded him and he smiled as he fired a shot across the street ending one outlaw's foolish attempt at shooting the tracker. He glanced over at JD; the young sheriff still reveled in the exuberance of naiveté. Ezra knew the easterner was not foolish, but he wondered how long it would be until he was as jaded as the rest of them.
Ezra's attention shifted towards a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. He watched as one of the robbers crept along the north side of the newspaper building. He attempted to shoot the skulking man but opposing gunfire forced him back. "Damnit," he hissed out biting his lower lip as the outlaw entered the front door of the office. A decision had to be made – He knew that Mary Travis, the town's newspaper editor was inside. "Mr. Dunne, cover me."
JD didn't question the sudden command, only nodded to the gambler that he understood and let loose his colts as his friend zigzagged across the road. Ezra ducked low and dashed across the street, keeping his eyes on the doorway of the building and hoping Mrs. Travis had not been taken by surprise and that a bullet didn't find his back. 'Dear God,' he thought, 'Rescuing a damsel in distress! Mother would be truly appalled.' Ezra's body slammed against the corner of clapboard building to catch his breath.
JD continued to give the conman cover fire but as the shooting intensified the young gunslinger was forced further behind the wagon. He hesitated a moment, then crept to the front of the wagon and carefully rose to shoot over it.
He was slammed face-first into the buckboard as the agonizing heat of a bullet seared through his back. JD crumpled to the ground, still clutching his guns. He tried to raise his head but the hot dusty street seemed to pull him back. He felt the heat move through him, burning from the inside and turning everything black.
"Buck!" A deep regret flooded JD's chest. "Damn it, Buck. I'm so sorry." The young gunslinger feared his friends would be angry with him for getting shot; but blackness wrapped him with its pain-free embrace and his anxiety dissolved with it.
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Sensing they were losing and not wanting to face the hang man's noose the outlaws increased their fevered attack. The remaining outlaws realizing now that they had definitely chosen the wrong bank. What rundown cow town had seven gunslingers protecting it? A simple bank heist had become a battle of life or death.
Buck was pinned down inside the saloon. He was alone, except for the company of his own frustration. Where were the others? He ducked low and tried once again to creep out the doorway. He retreated back into the saloon as bullets clipped the doorframe an inch from his face.
"Hellfire, this is getting tiresome." He peered into the street, trying to locate the outlaw who had him trapped in the saloon. This guy was really starting to piss him off.
He knew that Chris would have his hide for taking such foolish chances, but Buck was distracted by his fear for one young gunslinger. JD had managed to weasel his way into Buck's big heart and his safety was reason enough to risk Larabee's wrath. Buck usually kept a furtive eye on the kid, now he could only pray that someone else was watching out for him.
Vin was trying to get a bead on a particularly evasive outlaw. Earlier, he and Chris had fallen into a synchronized dance; drawing the outlaws out and forcing them back, so that he could get a chance to shoot. Once the bandits had discovered his vantage-point, they maneuvered into the best positions to keep him pinned down.
Vin fired and grinned as one more of the thieves twirled and crumbled to the ground. He tried to account for the other lawmen. It was becoming second nature for the seven to watch out for each other. Tanner had never had so many people care for his welfare; he didn't think any of them had. Together the seven gunslingers were a formidable force, but he knew they were becoming more than that—much more.
Larabee wanted to end this conflict quickly and limit the risk to his men. He tried to deny the growing camaraderie between them, but it was like trying to swim up an untamed river; he had to relent to the water's natural course.
Chris caught sight of Buck at the saloon. The ladies' man wore his usual cocky grin, but Larabee could see the frustration on his friend's face and hoped Buck didn't do anything crazy. Vin's mare's leg proclaimed the tracker's position on the hotel roof with the ending of an outlaw's life. Chris knew Josiah was down at the church blocking any escape. Nathan was in the hotel lobby making sure no one reached their sharpshooter. The same couldn't be said about the others. JD and Ezra had managed to hunker down outside the stables and behind a partially disassembled wagon and were out of his line of vision which made him exceedingly nervous.
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Mary Travis had taken cover behind the solid wooden desk at the back of the newspaper office. Gunplay was a common occurrence in town, a small price to pay for the protection of the seven lawmen. She stayed low; her arms clasped tightly across her chest, and said a silent prayer of thanks that her son was safe with Mrs. Potter.
Surprisingly, the bell above the door rang, announcing a visitor. Instinctively she raised her head. Too late, she realized her mistake. A dusty sweat-soaked young man, with a wild shock of brown hair and a malicious grin on his face, stood just inside the doorway. A large gun pointed in her direction.
"You!" he growled moving away from the windows and kicking the door shut. "Come out here, now!"
Mary swallowed hard and glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she could make it to the back door. She was terrified and froze, hugging the heavy desk.
"I ain't goin' tell ya again," the young outlaw growled.
Mary released a fearful breath, prepared to rise when Ezra exploded through the door and into the outlaw, driving them both to the floor in a confused tangle of arms and legs. The young man's gun skidded across the wooden floor banging against the printing press. Both men rolled across the wooden floor, and then jumped to their feet. The outlaw charged the gambler and Ezra winced as his back was slammed up against the edge of the printing press..
Mary tried to make her way to the door, but was forced back behind the desk by the wrestling men. Ezra suddenly found himself underneath the heavier man. He instinctively arched his back throwing the desperado off balance and onto his side. The two disentangled themselves and jumped to their feet at the same time. The outlaw threw a wild punch and Ezra ducked and blocked, getting in two quick blows of his own. The outlaw staggered backward and a sharp roundhouse to the jaw sent him to the floor in an unconscious heap.
"Mrs. Travis, are you injured?" Ezra gasped. He remained bent over resting his hands on his knees for a moment. He reached down and scooped up his hat as he straightened.
"I'm fine, Mr. Standish. Thank you." Mary slowly stood, trying to calm the shakiness in her voice.
"Would you happen to have any rope?" Ezra wiped his sleeve across his face then stopped when he noticed the tear in the arm of the fine material. He would really have to speak with the Judge about a clothing allowance. This constant tailoring was getting expensive. Mary exhaled with relief and pushed a strand of blond hair back into place. She reached down and pulled out several lengths of rope used to bundle newspapers. She smiled at the gambler's fastidiousness concerning his clothing. He really was a charming rogue.
Ezra flipped the young brigand onto his stomach and quickly tied his arms behind his back and his ankles together. "Please remain inside, Mrs. Travis until this bedlam has ended. I'll send someone to retrieve this miscreant shortly." Ezra tipped his hat and hurried out of the office to join the others.
TBC