Authors Note: ColinFanGirl, haha, I love the name!
And now these: -- will mean a difference in setting, but not time. So, it's more of a "meanwhile" symbol. Yeah..
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------
".. too late," Jim said breathlessly as the distant sound of a train whistle. The group slowed their horses, discouraged.
"There's got to be another one," Frank was keeping his panic in check as he pushed his horse forward and the rest followed. "We can catch the next one."
"What if there ain't a next one?" Cole asked, not trying to be ignorant but coming off as such.
"We ride like hell t'get t'Pennsylvania, an' hope t'God that he ain't strung up when we get there. Now c'mon, we ain't got time t'waste."
They approached the station at a trotting pace, Cole barely stopping his horse as he jumped from its saddle. He and Frank jogged into the building, Frank walking casually up to the ticket booth to avoid suspicion, Cole taking off his hat and resting it under his arm.
"Excuse me," he started in his most gentlemanly voice, "but could y'tell me when the next train t'Philedelphia is?"
The man glanced up from a piece of paper he was scribbling one thing or another on, taking in Frank and Cole's mildly flustered appearances. Then he turned around and shuffled over to a large chart on the wall, inspecting it. Cole shifted in irritation, placing a hand on his hip as he took a look out the window. Frank was bouncing on the balls of his feet - a habit he'd acquired from his younger brother.
"I'm afraid you're out of luck," the man's returning voice made them snap to attention. "The only Philly-bound train that's comin' through here is a cargo one. The last passenger jus' left about fifteen minutes ago."
Cole turned himself in a circle, cursing softly in his frustration. "Damnit. Frank, what d'we do now?"
Frank stood for a moment, his brow dipped in thought. Then, "What time?"
The man in the ticket booth turned. "Huh?"
"What time does the cargo train come by?"
"Tomorrow mornin', six o'clock."
Frank nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Okay?" Cole questioned his choice of words.
"Yeah," Frank said in a tone that made Cole feel like he should've known why Frank said what he'd said. "C'mon."
They exited the building. Cole stepped out into the sunlight and donned his hat once more. Frank started back towards the gang, a determined look contouring his face. Cole followed, having to skip once or twice to keep up with Frank's quick pace.
"Jim, I want you t'go an' scout out a place for us t'camp. Near, not too far away from the station. Concealed. Got that?" Jim nodded and spurred his horse into a trot. "Tom, Bob, go with him."
Cole turned to his older cousin, "What're you gonna do?"
"Somebody's gotta tell Joe."
"Want me t'go with you?"
"Yeah. I'll need someone t'help me carry the food," Frank said, ending the conversation with his tone. He straddled his horse and waited for Cole to do the same before prompting his horse into a gallop. Cole caught up and glanced sidelong at his friend.
"Jesse's gonna be fine, Frank."
The man returned his glance, "I hope so."
--
It was indeed as his brother feared: Jesse was not fairing well at all. His hands were chained tightly to the wall of the car, to the point were they were purple from poor circulation. Ralph wasn't going to make the same mistake that Thaddeus's men had: Giving him too much freedom. Just as insurance, Billy and the twins had gone to work on him. They'd made it as miserable an experience as possible.
He could barely see through his right eye, as it was swollen near-shut. What he did see was tainted red from the blood that trickled into his vision. His left eye's vision wasn't much to brag about either. They'd been brutal. His nose was throbbing steadily, but he was unsure if it was broken or not. He could feel the warm liquid expand on his upper lip and then drip quickly to the floor as the pool became too large. His lips were bloodstained as well, more or less licked clean after his teeth had cut into the soft flesh of his mouth. His breath was rapid and pained, as if he was terribly winded, but it was just his ribs. Broken. His foot had been torn to smithereens by that bullet. Broken. Like him, broken.
The sudden urge to vomit hit him with the intensity of a typhoon and he winced at the fire that erupted in his chest from it. His head spun and he pitched forward, ignoring the strain on his engorged wrists, and gave in to that compulsion to be sick. To his displeasure, the bile had been replaced with blood, and it splattered to the floor, staining it a violent red. With what remnants of strength he could muster, he scooted himself away from the congealing puddle and whimpered lightly.
The red had dried and crusted to black by the time one of Ralph's lackeys had come in to check on the outlaw. He was followed by Billy Ray and flanked by the twins. The lackey dropped a few pieces of stale bread to the dirty floor, where they conveniently landed in the hardened liquid. The quartet laughed before the nameless minion left the car and Jesse alone with the remainder. One of the twins thrust a small tin cup full of water into Jesse's face, demanding silently that he drink it. He did. Thirstily, one might add.
He finished with a cough and pulled his hand down to wipe at his mouth roughly. Billy Ray scoffed as Jesse's head drooped and he got a good look at the floor.
"Not so tough now, are we, Mister James?" he smirked, crossing his arms.
"I think he has trouble handlin' hisself without his gang 'round t'back him up," the twin that had brought the cup in said tauntingly.
Jesse pulled his head back up slowly, which was obviously a painful motion. Ignoring the searing twangs of hurt screaming from parts of his body he didn't even know he had, he spoke. "Jus' wait 'til I get outta here, you'll see how much I need m'gang t'defend me." He spit the traces of blood still in his mouth at the trio's feet.
The fist twin looked to his brother mock-nervously. "Oh no, Charlie! What're we gonna do?"
Charlie turned his head back to his brother. He seemed hesitant to play along, like something was telling him that this wasn't right. "Ah, cut it out, Dan," he said timidly, not wishing to receive the full scorn of both Billy and Dan (1).
"Goin' yell'a bellied on me, brother?" Dan sounded disappointed.
"Naw, I just don't think.. "
"Don't think what?"
"Don't think we should.. Well, ain't he beat up enough for you? Can't we leave him alone?"
Danny shook his head in disbelief at his twin. Then he turned and punched Jesse hard in the gut. Jesse's whole face knotted in pain and Charlie winced with empathy as he toppled over, blood once again finding its way from his mouth. Billy Ray chuckled.
"Alrigh' fellas, I'm gonna go find my gal. She's 'round here somewhere," he backed towards the door.
"Hurt her and I'll kill you, Gorman," Jesse blurted tiredly.
"Not if we get t'Pennsylvainia an' the damn Yanks try y'first. We'll see who gets killed then, won't we?"
"You bastard," he spit some more blood, "Y'think you're so tough. Why not shoot me now, huh? Save yourselves the trouble?"
Billy stopped his exit and stooped forward so that he was eye level with Jesse. "I would love for nothin' more than t'shoot y'where y'lie, James, but Ralph wants y'alive. Somethin' 'bout the pleasure'a seein' you hanged," his voice was low, dangerous.
"Are y'sure it had nothin' t'do with the size of his.. ?" Jesse trailed off, smirking almost jovially. "Or yours, for that matter?"
Billy grimaced at the insult and stood up quickly. He turned to walk away, but he hesitated a moment and spun back around. In one fluid motion, he viciously kicked Jesse in the face. Jesse's head crashed into the wall with a loud thump and he grunted before slumping over in unconsciousness. Billy narrowed his eyes and now turned to leave.
"Keep an eye on 'im," he muttered as he left, slamming the car door as he did.
--
"You stay away from me, Billy Ray," Alex spat as he entered the car she was being held in and the nameless lackey that was guarding her left.
The black eye that should have been healing was worse than before. There was a small cut on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow, where she had hit her head trying to escape from Billy. She was a frumpy mess, but that didn't seem to bother him.
"Y'really think that that'll work with me, darlin'?" he advanced on her.
"It was worth a try," she backed up, pressing against the far wall, waiting. He closed the gap between them quickly, and she prayed that he slow down a little so she would have enough time to swing at him. Enough time to swing, not enough time to react.
"I-" he started, but she took her chance and swung her arm, putting her whole body into it. She was lucky, her fist connected with his eye and he stumbled backwards, letting out a cry of anger. He spat, "You bitch!"
She attempted to escape but he recovered too quickly and brought his palm to her cheek - hard. She fell back against the wall, stunned. He stooped and grabbed her arms roughly, yanking her up to his face. She grunted and pulled her head away, but his lips found her neck instead. Pushing against him as hard as her farmer's daughter's arms would allow, she tried to make space between them.
He liked the resistance; it made him feel superior knowing that he could stop her any moment. He let her push him, though, for his own chauvinist pleasures. That was a mistake.
She lifted her knee quickly, reflecting his cocky grin for a second before the pain exploded in his groin region. Then he wasn't smiling so much anymore. He yelped and gripped the sleeve of her shirt as the other hand traveled to his throbbing gonads. There were a few more squeaks from him before she pushed him down angrily. Her sleeve ripped as his grasp didn't relent, and he landed on the floor with the material stuck in his hand.
She backed away and made for the nearest exit in search of Jesse. Whipping open the door, she failed to notice the unnamed minion that had been guarding her previous. She gasped as he whirled on her and scooped her up, draping her over his shoulder and escorting her back into the room.
"Lemme go!" she kicked her legs violently and pounded on his back vehemently. He obeyed her wish, dropping her to the floor of the car. She winced as the breath left her and gasped to get it back.
Billy was on his knees by now, too furious to be hurt. He leaned over her and grinned. Her eyes traveled to his face and her brows knitted in confusion. They widened as he brought his fist back and closed as it united with her cheek. He leaned back and breathed heavily, finding time to grimace in pain as he looked at the silent man next to him.
"Y'got any ice?"
--
"Is he even breathin' anymore?" Charlie asked worriedly of their captive.
"Barely," his brother said nonchalantly with a shrug. "Don't touch him, you'll make 'im worse if anything."
"Shouldn't we get a doctor t'look at him? I mean, won't the judges be suspicious?"
"They'll turn the other cheek. It won't matter what he looks like, s'long as he's alive. An' if they do say somethin': He was resisting arrest. A lot."
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Author's Note: Yeah, short chapter. I know. Well, for me anyway. I barely broke 2,000 words. But next time.. it'll be longer. I guess. I don't suppose any of you care if I do or not.
1 - Danny and Charlie Ford are loosely based on Robert and Charlie Ford, the brothers that were charged with the murder of the real Jesse James. I only changed Robert's name to Danny for fear of confusion. No, they weren't twins in real life, either. Loosely based. Loosely.
And now these: -- will mean a difference in setting, but not time. So, it's more of a "meanwhile" symbol. Yeah..
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------
".. too late," Jim said breathlessly as the distant sound of a train whistle. The group slowed their horses, discouraged.
"There's got to be another one," Frank was keeping his panic in check as he pushed his horse forward and the rest followed. "We can catch the next one."
"What if there ain't a next one?" Cole asked, not trying to be ignorant but coming off as such.
"We ride like hell t'get t'Pennsylvania, an' hope t'God that he ain't strung up when we get there. Now c'mon, we ain't got time t'waste."
They approached the station at a trotting pace, Cole barely stopping his horse as he jumped from its saddle. He and Frank jogged into the building, Frank walking casually up to the ticket booth to avoid suspicion, Cole taking off his hat and resting it under his arm.
"Excuse me," he started in his most gentlemanly voice, "but could y'tell me when the next train t'Philedelphia is?"
The man glanced up from a piece of paper he was scribbling one thing or another on, taking in Frank and Cole's mildly flustered appearances. Then he turned around and shuffled over to a large chart on the wall, inspecting it. Cole shifted in irritation, placing a hand on his hip as he took a look out the window. Frank was bouncing on the balls of his feet - a habit he'd acquired from his younger brother.
"I'm afraid you're out of luck," the man's returning voice made them snap to attention. "The only Philly-bound train that's comin' through here is a cargo one. The last passenger jus' left about fifteen minutes ago."
Cole turned himself in a circle, cursing softly in his frustration. "Damnit. Frank, what d'we do now?"
Frank stood for a moment, his brow dipped in thought. Then, "What time?"
The man in the ticket booth turned. "Huh?"
"What time does the cargo train come by?"
"Tomorrow mornin', six o'clock."
Frank nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Okay?" Cole questioned his choice of words.
"Yeah," Frank said in a tone that made Cole feel like he should've known why Frank said what he'd said. "C'mon."
They exited the building. Cole stepped out into the sunlight and donned his hat once more. Frank started back towards the gang, a determined look contouring his face. Cole followed, having to skip once or twice to keep up with Frank's quick pace.
"Jim, I want you t'go an' scout out a place for us t'camp. Near, not too far away from the station. Concealed. Got that?" Jim nodded and spurred his horse into a trot. "Tom, Bob, go with him."
Cole turned to his older cousin, "What're you gonna do?"
"Somebody's gotta tell Joe."
"Want me t'go with you?"
"Yeah. I'll need someone t'help me carry the food," Frank said, ending the conversation with his tone. He straddled his horse and waited for Cole to do the same before prompting his horse into a gallop. Cole caught up and glanced sidelong at his friend.
"Jesse's gonna be fine, Frank."
The man returned his glance, "I hope so."
--
It was indeed as his brother feared: Jesse was not fairing well at all. His hands were chained tightly to the wall of the car, to the point were they were purple from poor circulation. Ralph wasn't going to make the same mistake that Thaddeus's men had: Giving him too much freedom. Just as insurance, Billy and the twins had gone to work on him. They'd made it as miserable an experience as possible.
He could barely see through his right eye, as it was swollen near-shut. What he did see was tainted red from the blood that trickled into his vision. His left eye's vision wasn't much to brag about either. They'd been brutal. His nose was throbbing steadily, but he was unsure if it was broken or not. He could feel the warm liquid expand on his upper lip and then drip quickly to the floor as the pool became too large. His lips were bloodstained as well, more or less licked clean after his teeth had cut into the soft flesh of his mouth. His breath was rapid and pained, as if he was terribly winded, but it was just his ribs. Broken. His foot had been torn to smithereens by that bullet. Broken. Like him, broken.
The sudden urge to vomit hit him with the intensity of a typhoon and he winced at the fire that erupted in his chest from it. His head spun and he pitched forward, ignoring the strain on his engorged wrists, and gave in to that compulsion to be sick. To his displeasure, the bile had been replaced with blood, and it splattered to the floor, staining it a violent red. With what remnants of strength he could muster, he scooted himself away from the congealing puddle and whimpered lightly.
The red had dried and crusted to black by the time one of Ralph's lackeys had come in to check on the outlaw. He was followed by Billy Ray and flanked by the twins. The lackey dropped a few pieces of stale bread to the dirty floor, where they conveniently landed in the hardened liquid. The quartet laughed before the nameless minion left the car and Jesse alone with the remainder. One of the twins thrust a small tin cup full of water into Jesse's face, demanding silently that he drink it. He did. Thirstily, one might add.
He finished with a cough and pulled his hand down to wipe at his mouth roughly. Billy Ray scoffed as Jesse's head drooped and he got a good look at the floor.
"Not so tough now, are we, Mister James?" he smirked, crossing his arms.
"I think he has trouble handlin' hisself without his gang 'round t'back him up," the twin that had brought the cup in said tauntingly.
Jesse pulled his head back up slowly, which was obviously a painful motion. Ignoring the searing twangs of hurt screaming from parts of his body he didn't even know he had, he spoke. "Jus' wait 'til I get outta here, you'll see how much I need m'gang t'defend me." He spit the traces of blood still in his mouth at the trio's feet.
The fist twin looked to his brother mock-nervously. "Oh no, Charlie! What're we gonna do?"
Charlie turned his head back to his brother. He seemed hesitant to play along, like something was telling him that this wasn't right. "Ah, cut it out, Dan," he said timidly, not wishing to receive the full scorn of both Billy and Dan (1).
"Goin' yell'a bellied on me, brother?" Dan sounded disappointed.
"Naw, I just don't think.. "
"Don't think what?"
"Don't think we should.. Well, ain't he beat up enough for you? Can't we leave him alone?"
Danny shook his head in disbelief at his twin. Then he turned and punched Jesse hard in the gut. Jesse's whole face knotted in pain and Charlie winced with empathy as he toppled over, blood once again finding its way from his mouth. Billy Ray chuckled.
"Alrigh' fellas, I'm gonna go find my gal. She's 'round here somewhere," he backed towards the door.
"Hurt her and I'll kill you, Gorman," Jesse blurted tiredly.
"Not if we get t'Pennsylvainia an' the damn Yanks try y'first. We'll see who gets killed then, won't we?"
"You bastard," he spit some more blood, "Y'think you're so tough. Why not shoot me now, huh? Save yourselves the trouble?"
Billy stopped his exit and stooped forward so that he was eye level with Jesse. "I would love for nothin' more than t'shoot y'where y'lie, James, but Ralph wants y'alive. Somethin' 'bout the pleasure'a seein' you hanged," his voice was low, dangerous.
"Are y'sure it had nothin' t'do with the size of his.. ?" Jesse trailed off, smirking almost jovially. "Or yours, for that matter?"
Billy grimaced at the insult and stood up quickly. He turned to walk away, but he hesitated a moment and spun back around. In one fluid motion, he viciously kicked Jesse in the face. Jesse's head crashed into the wall with a loud thump and he grunted before slumping over in unconsciousness. Billy narrowed his eyes and now turned to leave.
"Keep an eye on 'im," he muttered as he left, slamming the car door as he did.
--
"You stay away from me, Billy Ray," Alex spat as he entered the car she was being held in and the nameless lackey that was guarding her left.
The black eye that should have been healing was worse than before. There was a small cut on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow, where she had hit her head trying to escape from Billy. She was a frumpy mess, but that didn't seem to bother him.
"Y'really think that that'll work with me, darlin'?" he advanced on her.
"It was worth a try," she backed up, pressing against the far wall, waiting. He closed the gap between them quickly, and she prayed that he slow down a little so she would have enough time to swing at him. Enough time to swing, not enough time to react.
"I-" he started, but she took her chance and swung her arm, putting her whole body into it. She was lucky, her fist connected with his eye and he stumbled backwards, letting out a cry of anger. He spat, "You bitch!"
She attempted to escape but he recovered too quickly and brought his palm to her cheek - hard. She fell back against the wall, stunned. He stooped and grabbed her arms roughly, yanking her up to his face. She grunted and pulled her head away, but his lips found her neck instead. Pushing against him as hard as her farmer's daughter's arms would allow, she tried to make space between them.
He liked the resistance; it made him feel superior knowing that he could stop her any moment. He let her push him, though, for his own chauvinist pleasures. That was a mistake.
She lifted her knee quickly, reflecting his cocky grin for a second before the pain exploded in his groin region. Then he wasn't smiling so much anymore. He yelped and gripped the sleeve of her shirt as the other hand traveled to his throbbing gonads. There were a few more squeaks from him before she pushed him down angrily. Her sleeve ripped as his grasp didn't relent, and he landed on the floor with the material stuck in his hand.
She backed away and made for the nearest exit in search of Jesse. Whipping open the door, she failed to notice the unnamed minion that had been guarding her previous. She gasped as he whirled on her and scooped her up, draping her over his shoulder and escorting her back into the room.
"Lemme go!" she kicked her legs violently and pounded on his back vehemently. He obeyed her wish, dropping her to the floor of the car. She winced as the breath left her and gasped to get it back.
Billy was on his knees by now, too furious to be hurt. He leaned over her and grinned. Her eyes traveled to his face and her brows knitted in confusion. They widened as he brought his fist back and closed as it united with her cheek. He leaned back and breathed heavily, finding time to grimace in pain as he looked at the silent man next to him.
"Y'got any ice?"
--
"Is he even breathin' anymore?" Charlie asked worriedly of their captive.
"Barely," his brother said nonchalantly with a shrug. "Don't touch him, you'll make 'im worse if anything."
"Shouldn't we get a doctor t'look at him? I mean, won't the judges be suspicious?"
"They'll turn the other cheek. It won't matter what he looks like, s'long as he's alive. An' if they do say somethin': He was resisting arrest. A lot."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------
Author's Note: Yeah, short chapter. I know. Well, for me anyway. I barely broke 2,000 words. But next time.. it'll be longer. I guess. I don't suppose any of you care if I do or not.
1 - Danny and Charlie Ford are loosely based on Robert and Charlie Ford, the brothers that were charged with the murder of the real Jesse James. I only changed Robert's name to Danny for fear of confusion. No, they weren't twins in real life, either. Loosely based. Loosely.
