CHAPTER XV

BIG VALLEY, WEST ELIZABETH, JUNE 9TH 1900

Straining and struggling with almost every step, Sawyer had managed to make his way from the cabin and back through the same gap in Fort Riggs' shoddy walls. Still carrying a bag of guns on each shoulder, the outlaw was getting more and more out of breath as he moved. The sacks were heavy and weighed him down constantly, yet he continued to power through.

The fields were still dark, so Sawyer was forced to use the light from both the campfire in the compound and the burning sniper post in order to figure out which was the way back to the horses. He'd also heard no more shots from Vic, so either he'd been taken out or he'd managed to get away. Judging by the amount of silhouettes around the burning outpost, the outlaw was confident in the latter.

The way back seemed clear, given there wasn't another soul in the area other than the pre-occupied soldiers. The outlaw was constantly thankful for that too, as it allowed him lower the sacks of guns to the ground every now and then to take a much-needed breather. All he could think about was getting the bags off of his shoulders, onto the saddles and getting back to town. It had dawned on Sawyer how strange it was that he couldn't stop thinking about returning to the town that wanted his neck snapped. He'd certainly be going back with a newfound respect for what the Anderson Brothers managed to do on a daily basis without much help.

There was a pretty rancid stench coming from the burning watch post on the hill. Looking up at it again, Sawyer could still see the soldiers checking the small area thoroughly, probably trying to find the guard that was supposed to be up there. Still, they could search the hill for as long as they wanted, as long as it kept them all at a distance.

Soon enough, the young outlaw found himself off the soggy grass and onto the main path again. Things were pretty quiet in the valley, which he was starting to wonder whether or not was a good sign. He could hear the general shouting and grunting of the soldiers, but not much else. Maybe it was the exhaustion of carrying the heavy sacks, but Sawyer definitely began to feel like something wasn't quite right.

"Where the fuck are you at, Vic?" Sawyer asked aloud to himself, groaning slightly as he moved.

The deputy was late in showing himself. The outlaw figured that if he'd gotten away from the burning watch post, not seen by any of the soldiers, then he should've been there to meet him already. Thankfully it didn't take much longer to finally see April coming down the road up ahead. She was a pleasure to see, as usual, but the slow speed in which Vic was riding her was real strange. The soldier's may have been distracted, but time was still of the essence.

Sawyer tried to pick up a little more speed after seeing the deputy finally make an appearance. The relief he wanted to feel when throwing the gun sacks onto each horse was overpowering him. Despite both sweating and breathing heavily, the young fugitive managed to find the strength to jog the rest of the way.

"'Bout fuckin' time, Deputy." Sawyer said with little breath, "Gotta say though... Nice job on clearin' the green boys."

Vic didn't say a word back. The outlaw noticed this right away as he slung one of the sacks of guns onto April's saddle. And just as Sawyer wandered over to his own horse, he looked up at the deputy again in confusion.

"Somethin' wrong, Vic?" The young fugitive asked, puzzled.

The lawman was looking down at Sawyer with a strange expression. It was a weird mixture of pity and guilt. Even in the dim light of the Big Valley fields it could be read rather clearly.

Sawyer walked a little closer to the lawman, ", A'ight, you wanna tell me what the fuck's goin' on?"

That was when Sawyer heard the pistol cock and felt the chilly end of the barrel press against the back of his neck.

"Drop that fuckin' bag, now." Said the familiar voice.

Sawyer tried to turn to his rear to see who was holding the gun, but to no avail. Wasn't like it mattered. Though he couldn't see who it was, he already knew regardless. All the outlaw could do was stare up at Vic, wondering what either could do.

"Agent Wilson." Sawyer said with a sigh, "What exactly are you doin' here, huh?"

The Pinkerton agent moved slowly around the outlaw, coming face to face with him, Mauser still pointed at his head.

"Well, you owe my little visit to yourself, asshole." The agent said, his higher pitched voiced piercing both Vic and Sawyer's ears, "Comin' back to West Elizabeth was pretty darn stupid, givin' what you've done here already."

"Nah, I don't mean like that, I mean what are you doin' out here so late, Agent?" Sawyer replied with a grin, "Shouldn't you be up to your balls in a pig right about now?"

For the remark, Agent Wilson stepped forward and clipped the outlaw across his already bruised face with his elbow. The hit sent Sawyer back onto one knee, dropping the second sack of guns onto the ground.

Seeing this, Vic quickly jumped from April's saddle onto the ground, but the Pinkerton immediately spun around and aimed the Mauser at his fellow law man.

"Don't even fuckin' think about it, Noble." The tall, thin man snarled, "Get your fuckin' hands in the air."

Vic stood still, staring at the Pinkerton agent. Both men locked their eyes on one another for a long time before the agent slowly approached the Tumbleweed deputy.

"Do as I fuckin' say!" Wilson yelled in Vic's face, gun still pointed.

Vic kept staring, not blinking or flinching for a moment, before slowly raising his open hands up. The Pinkerton soon smiled at the conforming deputy.

"Keep 'em there." Wilson ordered, "If I see 'em go any lower... I'll shoot that little fuckin' squirt right between the eyes."

Vic heard Wilson clearly and did exactly what he was told and stood frozen. Sawyer was still on one knee, shaking his head, trying to refocus his vision after being hit. Both men had to standby silently as the Pinkerton took both the sack of guns from April and the one that Sawyer had dropped to the ground. He dragged the two sacks right into the middle of the road.

Agent Wilson's grey suit, red waistcoat and top hat were all still in pristine condition, despite the recent torrential rainfall and the effect it had had on the surrounding area. Whilst Vic and Sawyer were drenched, with muddy boots and dirtied clothes, the Pinkerton agent still looked as though he was above everyone else.

"Bet you're real fuckin' proud of yourself..." Sawyer said, still breathing heavily, "I imagine you think you're some real hero right about now, huh?"

"Shut your fuckin' mouth, you little pissant. Or the next hit's gonna be a lot harder." The Pinkerton responded without even looking.

Just as Agent Wilson finished dragging the two sacks of guns into the road, he pointed the gun at Vic again.

"Now, go pick your pathetic little accomplice up, Noble." The Pinkerton ordered.

Vic again stared sternly at his fellow law man before carefully doing what he had said. The deputy walked over to Sawyer slowly, his hands still in the air and then took him by the hand.

"Come on, kid. Get up."

Sawyer was soon back on his feet and focused again. He and Vic both turned back to the Pinkerton who stood with the Mauser still aimed out. Both horses stood calmly away at the side of the road, leaving any chance of using even them for a distraction rather slim. The two men really had no choice but to follow what the Agent said.

"Pick up those bags, now. Both of ya." Wilson ordered, pointing the gun down at the stolen arms.

Slowly but surely, Sawyer and Vic picked up a bag each and slung them over their shoulders. Sawyer was sickened by it, after only just relieving himself of the heavy burden. Had he not been made to carry both sacks all the way from Fort Riggs to the horses, he might've had enough strength to confidently confront the Pinkerton. But as it stood, he didn't feel he could do it yet.

The outlaw kept secretly hoping that Vic would try and get them both outer the situation. So far, he'd hardly uttered a single word or made any attempt to help. Sawyer had already figured out that it was the deputy's pride and moral code preventing him from doing anything to the Pinkerton, he just hoped that for once Vic could put it all aside. But he just wouldn't.

"Alright, move your asses." Wilson commanded, pointing down the road.

The outlaw and the deputy both did as they were told and started strolling down the path, away from Fort Riggs. The horses had to be left behind once again. Just as everything seemed to be going perfectly, the job had been shattered. Neither had much of an idea what Agent Wilson planned to do with them. Before long, a little ways down the road, Sawyer had grown tired of the situation and decided to start enquiring.

"So where you takin' us, Agent?" Sawyer asked, "Wouldn't be like you to escort us to an actual jail. That ain't you government boys' usual way of doin' business, is it?"

Wilson kept following, Mauser in hand, "You're a wanted bandit, Sawyer. Killed a lot of poor innocents in Strawberry. Or has that slipped your infant mind?"

"Oh I remember the day very well, Agent." Sawyer said, "But what I also remember was a rather large, ugly, bald man who was also by my side when that all went down. It wasn't the deputy here."

Agent Wilson sniggered, "Not sure who else you're talkin' about, Sawyer. From what I hear, you were the only bandit in town that day."

Sawyer laughed scornfully himself, "God damn, can't say I'm surprised that you're covering for Roland again. That's all you ever fuckin' did when me and that piece of shit rode together. What's wrong, agent? Still scared of him?"

Vic looked confusingly at Sawyer after hearing that. It sounded as though the young outlaw had once been in cahoots with the corrupt Pinkerton too, along with Roland. The deputy wanted to intrude on the conversation, but managed to hold his tongue, thinking it a better idea to just keep walking and listening.

"I ain't scared of nobody, boy." Wilson scoffed, "And I don't remember every aidin' and abettin' you or any other lawbreakers. Unlike your outer-town friend here."

Vic grimaced. Never in his life as a lawman had he ever been complicit in any crimes with any scumbags. It hit him hard being accused by a Pinkerton. Especially one that could manipulate everyone into believing his lies. Still though, rather than defend himself, Vic stayed silent.

Sawyer turned, walking backwards, to face Wilson, "Well that ain't exactly true now, is it? Because I seem to remember Roland handin' you cuts of every stack of cash we robbed. Just to help keep our bounties at bay."

"A'ight, 'bout time you shut your mouth now, Sawyer." Wilson said, irritated, "Anymore outer you and you'll fuckin' limp the rest of the way."

"How you gonna make me limp then, agent? You gonna be balls deep in me instead of the usual swine of choice?" The outlaw said with a mocking giggle.

Agent Wilson glared at the young outlaw furiously before sharply approaching him closer, his hand still wrapped tightly around the pistol. Sawyer kept his sarcastic grin up as the Pinkerton proceeded towards him. Vic kept walking slowly, keeping his eyes fixed closely on what his younger friend was about to do.

"Fuckin' warned you, cocksucker." Wilson growled, reaching out to grab the outlaw.

Before the Pinkerton's hand could reach him, Sawyer suddenly spun himself around briskly, the bag of guns swinging with him. The deputy watched as Sawyer's bag of guns slammed into the agent's head, sending him flying onto the ground, finally staining his immaculate suit.

As Wilson hit the ground, Sawyer dropped the bag of weapons and lunged toward the agent who was already getting himself back up. Before he could do so, the young outlaw had got to him, kicked the Mauser pistol from his hand and punched him back to the ground.

"No!" Vic suddenly shouted, "Sawyer, no!"

The Tumbleweed deputy then dropped the sack from his own shoulders and ran over to the scuffling duo on the ground. Sawyer kept punching the Pinkerton, who in turn kept swinging right hooks into Sawyer's already sore ribs. The young outlaw groaned in pain but still managed to keep himself on top. Both men then started rolling the other over again and again, each trying to get the upper hand. With one further gut punch, the Pinkerton got Sawyer's back into the dirt. Once on top, Wilson began pummeling the outlaw in the face, who tried his best to avoid every blow.

Vic stood watching the two men fight, for once not knowing how to react. Whilst he needed to help his younger friend, he couldn't bring himself to hurt the Pinkerton. That was a line he still wasn't going to cross, no matter how corrupt Wilson may have been. So the deputy continued to have his own fight, within his head.

After taking some jabs to the face, Sawyer managed to duck under the agent's left arm and start lifting him up off the ground. The outlaw soon turned the tables on the Pinkerton agent by flipping the two of them over, slamming Wilson's spine into the ground real hard. The sudden impact on the dirt knocked the air right outer the agent's lungs, sending him into a strained, coughing fit.

"A'ight Sawyer, he's had enough!" Vic yelled out.

The outlaw wiped the blood running from his lip, "Not nearly enough."

As the Pinkerton agent squirmed on the ground, gasping for air and coughing away the dust, Sawyer crawled across the dirt road onto the wet grass and grabbed the Mauser Pistol. After getting back to his feet, the young fugitive walked over to Wilson once again.

The whole area was silent. No crickets or birds made a sound. Not even a burst of wind went through the region. And, miraculously, no passers-by had came across what was going down. Vic was grateful for that. The last thing he wanted was for anymore innocents to get dragged into the situation.

"Sawyer!" Vic shouted out again, "I said he's had enough!"

The outlaw didn't even listen, probably didn't even hear the deputy's words. Instead he crouched over the winded Pinkerton and pressed the Mauser's barrel hard into his cheek.

Vic got closer before Sawyer did anything else he might regret. No matter what, they could not kill the Pinkerton. Wilson would've surely told his superiors and other agents who he was after, so if he suddenly disappeared, there would be even more Pinkerton's on their trail.

"Leave him be, Sawyer... It's Payne we're after, not him!" Vic shouted again, "Put down the gun!"

The outlaw still didn't listen, instead he kept snarling at Agent Wilson, who'd finally managed to catch his breath. The agent was looking up at Sawyer blankly, waiting to see if he was going to pull the trigger or not.

The agent then watched as Vic suddenly reached into his wet coat and pulled out one of his LeMat's. The deputy cocked the hammer and then aimed the gun at Sawyer's head.

"Put the gun down, Sawyer." Vic growled slowly, "Now."

Sawyer finally snapped back to reality. He looked up from Agent Wilson and around to Vic. He saw the shiny barrel of the LeMat and stared up at the maverick deputy.

"He's not the man you want dead." Vic said quietly, "So put down the gun and step away from him."

Sawyer looked away from Vic and back into the arrogant eyes of the Pinkerton, "You've gone fuckin' crazy."

"Maybe." Vic replied, "But I'd rather this not get to the point that we have to find out."

"He's here to kill us, Vic." Sawyer said through gritted teeth, "There's no way he'd show you the same mercy."

"What he would or would not do don't interest me, kid." Vic replied calmly, "I can't let you kill the man."

"Why not, huh?" Sawyer asked, staring at Wilson and almost drooling with temptation, "We kill him and we've got one less fuckin' problem."

"Nah." Said the lawman, "You kill him... And we'll have an even bigger problem."

The young outlaw kept pressing the Mauser into Agent Wilson's cheek, straining with anger and the desire to shoot. But Vic's words managed to keep him from doing so.

"If that man dies... We'll have the whole fuckin' agency after us... After you." Vic revealed, "And the last thing we need is more Pinkerton's gettin' in our way."

Sawyer listened to his friend. God knows he wanted to kill Wilson, after everything the agent had let Roland, and himself, get away with. Sawyer saw the Pinkerton as another part of his past that needed erasing. He knew Vic was right, but the temptation was so overpowering.

"You ain't gonna shoot me, Vic." The outlaw snarled again.

Vic then moved the LeMat closer, now pressing it against Sawyer's head, "If I have to I will... And then Roland Payne's all mine. And I don't fuckin' want that, kid. Neither do you."

Sawyer started breathing heavily again. He kept staring at Wilson and looking back towards Vic. His eyes kept darting between them, so unsure of what to do. He didn't want to believe that Vic would kill him. Not after everything they'd been through up until that point. But given his usual way of going about his job as a deputy, Sawyer knew it was still a huge possibility.

"So... Put... The gun..." Vic whispered, "Down."

Breathing like an animal and unsure of what the outcome could be, Sawyer took one last look at Agent Wilson before finally relenting. He threw the Mauser Pistol far off into the darkness of the Big Valley field. He then promptly stood to his feet and backed away from the agent. Vic kept his LeMat aimed at Sawyer until he was far enough away, before aiming it back to the Pinkerton himself.

"Now you... Get up!" Vic shouted.

Confidently gleaming, Agent Wilson slowly got to his feet, dusted himself down and put his hands into the air. His arrogant grin was so poisonous, Vic wanted to rip it right off of his face. Yet he didn't. Instead he approached the Pinkerton slowly, keeping the LeMat aimed out in case he tried anything. His grey suit was mucky, his hat was gone and his greasy thin hair was roughed up, hanging past his ears. The outlaw had really done a number on him, Vic thought.

"You're gonna look the other way, let me and the kid go, with the guns." Vic said, "And you're gonna walk down that fuckin' road, back to Roland Payne."

The agent listened close, his grin soon dropping as Vic approached him.

"And you're gonna tell him... That we're comin'." Vic whispered finally.

The Pinkerton and the Deputy then stood still, almost nose to nose, giving each other the same hateful glare. Both men, if their lives were just a little different, would have happily killed one another. Yet, despite the strong dislike and different levels of corruption between then, both seemed to share a similar code when it came to the law. It was just a question of who would break that code first.

Sawyer stood alone, many yards away, still calming himself down. He watched closely, hoping that Vic would change his mind and kill the agent. This was not to be.

"Okay..." Whispered the agent, "I'll do just that, Victor."

The Pinkerton then immediately began his walk away, down the road and into the darkness, before stopping suddenly and looking back. Both Vic and Sawyer kept staring him down.

"Just so you both know." Agent Wilson said, "The two of you are dead already. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But soon... We're gonna kill you."

Everything fell silent once again. The only sound that remained was the filthy Agent's footsteps as he disappeared into the darkness. And eventually, even those sounds faded away too. Vic and Sawyer were left standing still, not knowing how to proceed, their hearts finally falling back down from their throats. The Pinkerton's ominous words came over them like a wave.

The two men looked at each other, saying so much without speaking a single word. They knew right away that if their current mission wasn't already risky, it was now downright dangerous. Sawyer wanted to be angry at Vic for what he had done earlier, but he couldn't bring himself to be. He knew deep down that the deputy was right for doing what he did. And if nothing else, now was not the time to get into any arguments. The two men had the secured the guns and just had to get them back to Strawberry.

Within minutes, the two renegades had the sacks back over their shoulders and walked as quickly as they could back up the road to their horses. Both the mare and the stallion were still where they were last seen, to no surprise. Vic's bag went back onto April's saddle and Sawyer finally, at long last, greeted Neigan again.

"Hey there, pal." He said, stroking the horses snout, "You must be hungry, huh?"

Sawyer fed Neigan a carrot from his satchel before climbing into the saddle once more. Vic soon did the same, and as the horses began their trots back up the hill past Fort Riggs, both men watched as the fire of the sniper's post still burned bright. The soldiers however were no longer in sight, probably searching the area for their two missing comrades. Fortunately they were still not searching the road, giving Sawyer and Vic the go ahead to get outer the area fast.

The night was still calm and dark, but unlike when they'd arrived at the fort, the weather was dry, giving them a much easier journey back. Once the horses got into a gallop and Fort Riggs was no longer in sight when the two men looked back, they felt a huge sense of relief. The job, despite it's hardships, was finally done. Once the sun rose in the morning, they could get back on with their real mission.

Time seemed to go by fast now that things were safe. Neither Vic or Sawyer said a word for most of the journey however. Given what had gone down, both probably felt apologetic towards the other, yet neither would admit as much.

After many miles of galloping back the same way they'd came, both horses slowed themselves down a little to catch their breath's. Sawyer then looked over to his older friend and finally decided to break the long silence first.

"Were you really gonna do it, Vic?" He asked.

Vic didn't make any eye contact, "Do what, kid?"

"Were you really gonna shoot me?"

The deputy didn't reply for quite some time, leaving Sawyer to feel as though he'd been completely ignored. However, further up the road, just as the light of the sun began to show itself on the horizon, Vic spoke up.

"No. I wasn't." The deputy revealed.

Sawyer then looked over to his friend again, "So you're sayin' I could've just killed that motherfucker?"

"Nah... I would've just had to knock you out." Vic laughed slightly to himself, lighting a fresh cigarette.

The outlaw looked over with a smile, "You'd have tried to, asshole."

"Yup, maybe." Vic said, taking in a long drag, "Let's just be glad it didn't come to that then, huh?"

Sawyer nodded, "Right with you on that."

The two renegades then kept riding along easily, the sun rising ever so slowly on the horizon, gradually breaking through the woodlands that they galloped through. The vibe of the area kept getting better as the sun rose higher and higher. Never had the outlaw been so happy to see West Elizabeth's land in all its sun-scorched glory, though he did still keep his bandana slightly around his face.

As the road they travelled on began to get steeper, meaning they were almost back to town, Sawyer needed one more thing from his friend.

"Promise me one thing though, Vic?" Sawyer then asked.

The maverick lawman looked over, cigarette still between his lips, "Sure, go on."

"When we get to Roland... You ain't gonna pull any kinda stunt like that again." The outlaw said sternly, almost like an order.

Vic took another long drag, held the smoke in for awhile before exhaling slowly.

"You got it, kid."