"Oxymorons!"
ProRodeoCowgirl
An Alias Smith and Jones/Pirates of the Caribbean crossover
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story except for any plot ideas you do not recognize. Any dates/places are approximate and probably not accurate!
A/N: This chapter is mostly backstory and setting up for the next chapter. I'm sorry it doesn't contain much action, but you'll need to read it to understand chapter 4.
Chapter 3
It was dark, murky, and cold. The cavern walls were of black-grey; no warmth to be felt resided in the fearful confines. The steady drip-drip of a forlorn stream buried deep beneath the stone magnified to such a pitch in the silence that it sent reverberating waves of sound off the walls. A pitch-black tunnel was the only outlet from the dank prison, but what good was it…it only led to another cavern, and another, and another – it was an endless maze of twisting passages, caves, and mining tracks. The only inhabitant of the suffocating room was a young man; he was slumped forward, apparently unconscious, tightly bound in a chair. Dark circles ringed his closed eyes, and his chocolate hair fell forward into his handsome face. For Hannibal Heyes, the thick ropes encircling his body were nothing short of cold, steel bars constricting about his life, barring the way to freedom.
How long he had been here, in this torturous abode, Heyes knew not. Nor did he know where his lifetime friend Kid Curry was, and this disturbed him. As long as the two had been alive, they had been together…as fast friends, faithful companions, silent listeners, quiet enemies, angry brothers; for they were brothers, as far as they were concerned. Not by blood, but at the same time, they were closer than any blood brothers could ever be; for it was by blood that they were made brothers…
Flashback
It was during the war. Twelve year old Hannibal Heyes was walking contentedly back to the his Kansas farmhouse from what had been a very prosperous fishing trip…four nice fat trout! That would make a wonderful supper, and it would make Mother Ann happy too. Han thought about giving two of them to his best friend, neighbor, and closest cousin, Jedidiah Curry. He lived just across the creek from Han and his folks, about a half mile away. Han smiled at the prospect of seeing Kid's excited and jealous face when he beheld the exceptional trout. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the thick, black smoke billowing from beyond a nearby hill...until the suffocating smell reached his nostrils.
"Mom never build fires!" he thought, frowning.
He knew that his mom didn't think much of fires because one, they didn't have a fireplace, and two, someone always had to clean away the soot. And anyway, a small cooking fire wouldn't raise that much smoke! Suddenly, an alarm bell went off in Heyes' head, and he unconsciously quickened his pace. Something was wrong…he could feel it. Now as he got closer to the hill he could hear silence. That wasn't right...where were the horses? The cows? The chickens? Where was his mother? He should be able to hear sounds coming from the farmhouse by now. Sweat began to bead on Heyes' forehead and quite abruptly a feeling of dread and intense, chilling fear came down upon him, bowing his shoulders as he ran furiously towards the ominous, black smoke. Heyes topped the hill and the startling image met his eyes of the quaint, little farmhouse being consumed greedily and mercilessly by the ever-gorging fire. He vaguely registered that the flames were laughing evilly at him, as the smoke whirled around the small, defenseless home. Heyes stopped running and doubled over, heaving, face covered with his hands…the trout lay far behind, twitching forlornly, in the middle of the dirt path. A state of complete shock enveloped Hannibal, numbing him to the world…it was gone. The only home he had ever known was gone…the flames were spreading to the barn, the fences were nothing more than charred toothpicks, the wheat surrounding the house was being devoured quicker than one could blink an eye. Heyes saw none of this. His eyes ravaged unseeingly the debris outside the house…they came to rest on a petite shape lying in the dead grass. The breath caught in his chest and the desolate dream state was lifted; a sharp needle of realization pierced Heyes' mind, and his forced his legs into action, running frantically towards the remains of what he knew was his mother. He dropped to his knees beside her.
"Mother Anna!" he asked desperately, his breath coming in gasps. "Anna? ANNA!"
She was lying prostrate on the ground with blood covering her face, wide eyes staring blankly towards the sky, a small, silver ring clutched tight in her cold, lifeless hand. A crimson stain was spreading from a small, circular wound in her chest…a bullet wound. A tumult of fiercely agonizing emotions slammed into him – hate, passion, mental torture, physical anguish, overwhelming hopelessness – and he screamed, crying out his pain to the vivid blaze of the setting sun, the wrenching sound mixing smoothly with the firy glow and purple loneliness of the eve. How he swore to revenge himself upon the murdering wretches that had killed her! Heyes sank to the ground next to his mother's body. How long he stayed there, he didn't know. Time lost meaning, hours slipped by, and the bonfire glow of the sun sank into the west to be replaced by the cover of night, the full moon mocking his agony with it's calm peacefullness. Then, softly, a trembling voice sounded behind him, gently prying him from his shocked stupor.
"Heyes?" it whispered.
He didn't even have to turn around to know that voice.
"Yeah, Kid?" he replied, the broken sound issuing back to his cousin.
He turned around slowly, moving for the first time in hours. Jedidiah Curry, barely over the tender age of ten, stood alone behind him, silhouetted against the moonlight, pale faced and trembling, his baby blue eyes staring desperately into Heyes' brown ones. Heyes knew the instant he met Jed's terrified, blank gaze what had befallen his friend. More painful to realize was the fact that they now had no one left in the world; it was just the two of them left. Heyes trembled, a single tear slipping down his cheek. He swallowed resolutely, and taking the silver ring reverently from his mother's hand, tucked it safely into his pocket. He got up and turned slowly, then walked over to Kid and put his hands upon the child's shoulders. The touch turned into a simple, but fierce embrace: two friends, alone, clinging desperately to the only thing they now had left...each other. And Heyes whispered through choked tears to Curry,
"Don't worry, Kid. Somehow, through the grace of God, we're gonna make it. We're brothers now, Kid, and we're never going to give up! It'll be hard, but we'll never give up…I swear my life's blood to you that I'll always watch over you. And we'll watch over each other."
End Flashback
"We'll watch over each other…"
Those five words chased each other through Hannibal's exhausted mind as he slept restlessly. Boy, had he broken that promise. He had promised to watch over his younger cousin forever, and now he had no idea where those monsters had taken him, or indeed if he was still alive. Heyes jerked in his sleep as a mental picture of Kid Curry sprang into his dream: Kid, lying motionless on the ground, dark smoke caressing his cold body, swirling around him like a blanket of death, cushioning his head of blonde curls; the evil black fingers gently exploring his still chest, almost lovingly stroking the smooth skin of the left breast, upon which a small, cirular wound was pouring a fountain crimson. Heyes watched as the finger of smoke dipped into the stream of red and then was whisked faintly away to curl around Kid's outstretched hand; a ring of silver rested upon the pale palm…
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Heyes' wrenching scream pierced the silence of the cavern.
Almost instantly a hand whipped out and struck him a reeling blow. Sweat pouring off of him, Heyes fought to regain control of his shaking body.
"Be quiet, Mr. Heyes! You've no reason to scream…yet!" hissed a voice.
Heyes pulled his head up to look around at the man who had silently entered the cave. His eyes fought to see him. He was about to reply when a second voice reached his ears...this one came from the mouth of the tunnel. He instantly recognized him as the man who knocked him out. He was still masked. Heyes listened as the man asked,
"Has everything been OK here while I was away, Dave?"
"Sweet as sugar pie, boss. He ain't said a word 'til just now," Dave answered, jerking his head towards Heyes.
"And the other?" the man questioned expectantly. Dave grinned darkly and replied,
"Same as when you left him!"
"Good," the man drolled, also smiling unpleasantly, and staring directly at Heyes.
Heyes felt relief flood through him at these words…so Kid was alive! And he was here. Momentarily giddy, he didn't notice when the man stepped closer to where he was tied. Then the second part of Dave's comment penetrated Heyes' mind, and fear suddenly pulsated through him. He demanded angrily,
"What have you done to Thaddeus?"
The men laughed evilly. The "boss" spat a thin stream of tobacco juice onto the ground and replied nastily,
"None of your business what I've done to Mr. Curry, is it now, Mr. Heyes?"
"Yes it is!" snarled Heyes, straining at the ropes in attempt to reach the man. "And why do you always wear a mask? You coward! Are you afraid to let your victims see your face while you torture them?"
The man's face contorted with rage, and furiously he swung around to Heyes; he grabbed a fistful of Heyes' hair, twisting his head back as far as it would go. Ignoring Heyes' intense gasp of pain, he menacingly ripped off the mask and pulled out a Big Iron, pinning the barrel tightly to Heyes' exposed throat. He leered and shoved his horrific face within an inch of Heyes'. He growled angrily and snarled,
"Let it be known, victim, that Bill the Kid is NOT a coward!"