For Author's note and Disclaimer, see chapter 1

Chapter 10

"Any chance of untying my hands?" Heyes held up his tied hands in front of him. "Be kinda messy otherwise," he nodded to the plate of beans that had been dropped on the ground in front of him and Emerson. Hardly enough for one grown man, but it was all that they had been given and it would be enough. At least for his part he knew it would be enough, though judging by the desolate and forlorn look on Emerson's face he figured that was a different story altogether.

"Forget it, ain't doing you no favors," Harry glared at them.

"Just thinking economically," Heyes shrugged. "There's two of us, and only one plate, now, if you'd so kindly untie my hands, it'd be a lot easier for us to share, no spillage, and you save on beans."

"Or, we punch you in the mouth, you don't eat no goddamn beans, and that saves us a whole lot more…" Harry snapped. He was seated right next to them, to keep an eye on them, and in addition to the beans, had several pieces of biscuit in front of him.

"Well, I suppose it'd work," Heyes shrugged. "But I'd much prefer if you just untied my hands, ten minutes? I get to eat, make sure my fingers still works, come on?"

"Do it," Takai growled, juice trickling down his chin. "We ain't got so much we can waste any."

"Fine," Harry grabbed his hands, jerking them towards him. Ignoring the groan as it jarred his broken wrist. He at least untied him and Heyes rubbed some circulation back into his hands.

"Now, you shut the hell up, got it?" Harry growled, grabbing the front of his shirt. "I don't care what, just stay shut up!"

"Yes sir, absolutely," Heyes nodded. "I won't bother you about anything at all, wouldn't even care to mention a Gila Monster behind you…"

Beside him Emerson let out a loud curse and nearly overturned their plate. Harry, leapt back with a loud cry, spinning around with his hand on his holster while Heyes collapsed to the ground. He bit back a groan, his hand shooting out before he clutched it to his midsection.

"What the hell was that?" finally having come to the conclusion there was no monster of any kind behind him, Harry spun around again.

"Just trying to establish parameters," Heyes shrugged. "I for one would want someone to tell me if I was about to sit on a Gila Monster, but, if you'd prefer not. I'll be happy to let you do it."

"I've just about had it with you Valentine!" Harry gripped his gun with a white knuckled fist. "It'd suit me just fine if you had a couple of bullet holes in you."

"Do it later, we have to be on our way," Takai snorted, as Harry reluctantly let go of his gun. He did however deliver a hard kick to Heyes' side before he sat down to eat his food.

Hissing with pain Heyes straightened, offering Emerson a slightly forced smile.

"Don't know what good that did," Emerson mumbled ruefully. "But ya had better get some grub in ya."

"Don't mind if I do," Heyes didn't let himself be bothered by the fact they were eating with their hands. Instead he judged the amount of food given them and how much he could allow himself to eat. His stomach was aching from hunger, but he knew Emerson would be even worse off.

Indeed their plate was perfectly clean as it was given back and not wanting to aggravate their captors too much Heyes didn't say anything as his hands were tied and he was hoisted back up on the horse. He allowed his feet to be tied together under the belly of the horse as well, and waited for them to tie Emerson's feet to the stirrups. Once they had been on their way long enough he deemed their vigilance to be reduced he nudged Emerson lightly with the heel of his boot, about as much as he was able to move. "Can you get at my shirt?" he whispered quietly.

"Reckon, why? Y'all got an itch?" Emerson whispered back just as quietly though they were being ignored.

"No, carefully, pull it out of my pants and see if you can reach in, carefully," Heyes cautioned him.

Frowning Emerson slipped one hand in between them and carefully tugged at the hem of Heyes' shirt. Noticing something under the fabric he glanced down, his frown deepening. Noting the myriad of old faint scars. He and Valentine both sported a multitude of scars, from bullets, knives and fisticuffs with outlaws, but this was different. They were so old they must have been inflicted when the young man was nothing but a boy, and they had been done ruthlessly. Thin and straight, overlying each other in layers, as if it had been done by a cane, or whip. Either way it made him furious that someone would hit a child that way. Grinding his teeth he hitched the shirt and under shirt up a little further, noting how the damage stretched up, and down into the lining of the pants.

He noticed Joshua stiffen, and shift uncomfortably. He was about to comment on it, when he noticed something else, under the shirt was tucked two of the biscuits the outlaws had kept to themselves. Hurriedly he fished them out, and tucked them inside his own shirt where they would be easier to reach.

"Figured you could use it," Joshua whispered. "Grabbed them when he knocked me over."

"That's darn right sneaky," Emerson grinned, drawing a smile from Joshua.

"Figured if he got mad, he wouldn't likely notice," he grinned. "Not much, but better than nothing."

"Sure is," satisfied that noone was looking, Emerson quickly tucked Heyes' shirt back into his pants, and reached into his shirt to break off half of a biscuit. Stuffing it into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully he debated the best way to share. He was a little worried the owl hoots would notice if he put his hand over Joshua's mouth. Even so, while they were busy with other things he managed to slip him a few small pieces.

Two biscuits didn't last long, and didn't really do much to dispel the hunger pangs but it was certainly better than nothing and it helped to lift Emerson's spirits. It gave him hope he would not starve before Valentine came to find them, and he had no doubt his friend would. He might be a bit of a runt, though Emerson himself was one of the few who would view him as such, but he was smart. He really was, there was no doubt about that. He had no doubt he was following their trail and was slowly catching up to them.

A hope that was almost dashed later in the day when they came to a river that ran a lot more rapid than it should. It was threatening to overflow its banks, and branches in the water could be observed going by at dangerous speed.

"Must've been rain higher up," Wilson frowned, the owl hoot standing in his stirrups to observe the water flow. "If it's getting lower, it should be fine, but if it's still rising, it could get tricky."

"There's no other place to cross for miles," Takai growled. "We need to get over here."

"Figure we could make it, but what do we do about them?" Brown nodded towards their prisoners.

"Lead their horse," Takai shrugged.

"Gonna be risky," Brown pushed his hat back to scratch his head. "Not sure about this."

"Oh, it's not that bad," Heyes leaned forward, studying the water.

"No one asked you," Takai glared at him. "And I wouldn't shed a tear if you both drowned, but that is a damn good horse."

"Boss…." Tom, whom Heyes had figured looked to be the most nervous one fidgeted in his saddle.

"Alright, we go over," Takai growled. "Wilson, grab their horse and make sure they don't try nothing."

"In that, it'd be scuicide," Heyes shuddered, trying to shift his hands around to grasp the saddlehorn they were tied to. It was going to be tricky, and he figured they were going to be jostled around a fair bit. Not the time he wanted to be barely hanging on the horse as it was. With him unable to balance himself properly, it was going to make it harder for the creature to manage.

Wilson grabbed the split reins from Emerson, and pulled the horse behind his own into the water. They had only gone a few steps before the horse stumbled and Heyes found himself thrown forward over the horse's neck. With the horse going to his knees in the unusually deep water he wasn't able to close his mouth before finding himself dunked in the water. Unable to pull himself up again.

Bracing his feet firmly in the stirrups Emerson reached forward and grabbed him, pulling him back and steadying him against him.

"Thanks," Heyes gasped as he regained his balance, spitting water and trying to catch his breath. With Emerson slinging an arm around his waist he was able to balance himself better though the horses were struggling against the fast flowing water.

By the time they got to the other side they were all more or less soaked, and Heyes wished he could have emptied out the water from his boots. Behind him, Emerson checked his pockets and grinned broadly as he found his tobacco and papers were still dry. Building himself a smoke he blew a content cloud of smoke while Heyes shifted around, trying to find some way to wipe the water from his face. He couldn't reach with his hands and wiping it against his wet shirt was barely any good.

"Damn it, I'm wet through," Wilson growled, taking the hat he had near lost and shaking the water from it.

"Ain't the only one," muttering under his breath as he pulled his shirt out of his jeans to wring the water out of the hem. Leaving it on top of the jeans where it would dry easier he reached forward to pull Heyes' shirt out of his tan trousers to repeat the process, frowning as he noticed the henley he wore under was just as wet.

"On the bright side, if they refuse us dinner, I think I got a fish in my boot," Heyes stated, drawing a smile out of Emerson.

Then the taller Texan groaned, "don't talk about food, I'm still more starved than not."

"Don't worry, if what I've heard of Valentine holds true, he'll be hot on our trail, and so will my friend," Heyes threw an encouraging look over his shoulder as they started moving again. The sun was hot enough he figured they would dry out, uncomfortable as it might be. It wasn't the first time he was soaked, and it wouldn't be the last time.

"Ol' Larry's gonna throw a fit," Emerson grinned.

"Thaddeus won't ever let me forget this," Heyes sighed softly. Not that he would have gone any easier on the kid if their roles had been reversed. They had always ribbed each other about those things, even when they were kids. The same way he had given a very young Jedediah a hard time about getting chased by the rooster he had taunted, after he dealt with the fowl creature of course. Then they had joined together to deal with the older cousin that had tricked his friend into thinking the rooster would be a sport. They had always looked out for each other, but they had never missed an opportunity to give the other a hard time either.

Jed had tormented him for weeks for falling off the school house roof, but he had also been a good friend when he was stuck in bed. Sneaking into his mom's pantry and stealing odd bits of this and that that he brought over. They'd shared treats of cold potato, crumbs of cornbread mixed with sand and lint from the Kid's pocket. Whatever a four year old boy could get his hands on and deemed a treat at the moment.

"Who was it beat ya?" Emerson's quiet voice startled him out of his thoughts. He couldn't help how he tensed up, cold sweat prickling at his forehead.

"Might not be any of my business, but I sure do know what I saw," Emerson drawled softly.

"Matron at the home, mostly," tense and uneasy he flexed his hands. "They figured to set me back to the straight an' narrow. Guess the lesson didn't take as well as they'd hoped it would. I was always getting into trouble, challenging them, riling up the other boys. Reckon they figured I deserved it."

"Figure anyone doing that to a young'un ought to be horse whipped themselves," Emerson shook his head. "Don't figure you could've been that bad, y'all ain't the sort."

"Figured they thought so," he allowed a small smile to creep over his lips. "I, wasn't much good at submitting to their 'gentle and guiding care'."

"No way y'all could have deserved all of that," Emerson was adamant. "Just ain't."

"Oh, I did plenty to deserve it," he gazed across the owl hoots in front of them, but they paid them no heed. "New kid came, no more than five, didn't learn his letters fast enough. Matron beat his hand with a ruler. So, I stole a bottle of ink out of the classroom and used it on the washing bucket. Next time they went to scrubbing the floors, they didn't much like it."

Behind him, Emerson tried to hold back the laughter but couldn't. He exploded in laughter and suddenly all of the hard cases were staring at them. Heyes, simply gave them his most innocent grin as if he had no idea what he was laughing about.

TBC

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