The Kid woke early, coughing painfully. It'd been days since he'd been able to take a breath without a stabbing pain in his chest and upper back and today was proving no different. The memory of listening helplessly to Jake dying by degrees, swept through his head, as it had almost every morning lately as he worried that he was going to suffer the same fate. There was nothing he could do about it, except hope he was wrong, so he pushed the dark thoughts down and in an effort to distract himself, carefully felt under his pillow.
After some slightly frantic searching, he found what he was looking for. He carefully retrieved the small piece of chalk rock he'd managed to smuggle out from the quarry he'd worked on for a few days about two weeks since. He slowly slipped off his bunk and crept over to the far wall to add another line to the growing tally of chalk marks in the corner of his cell. Even that short walk left him gasping and it took some effort to make it back to his bunk. He carefully stored his chalk before lying down to stare at the ceiling, attempting to make out the patterns in the dark, just to concentrate on anything other than the pain. When it came, despite him expecting it, the jangling ringing of the bell startled him into harsh coughing that left him with watery eyes and little breath.
The Kid shuffled slowly out of his cell when directed and joined the other inmates as they made their way to the dining area. He sat down heavily at his assigned seat and coughed again before staring blearily at the unappetising mush in front of him. He mechanically ate until the bowl was empty, ensuring he didn't taste a single mouthful, because he'd found that was the only way to get through eating the stuff without his stomach protesting.
After breakfast they were broken into their usual groups before being marched out in the courtyard. The Kid leaned carefully against the wall, half asleep, hoping no one would notice, as he and the other prisoners were told of their fate for the day. "Ditch digging for Mr Carlton out at East Ridge."
The Kid often thought that this daily ritual of making them wait in line to be told their work assignments, was just another way to remind the inmates of their low place in the world. It was surely simpler and quicker to just load them into the iron cages and send them on their way. It wasn't like any of them had any choice or could say no to whatever back breaking job they were expected to do.
The heat of the overcrowded metal box, with just the tiniest of windows to let in some light and air, mixed in with the smell of sweat and bad breath was always uncomfortable, but today the Kid struggled against growing nausea as he fought to take an even breath. He closed his eyes in an attempt to stop his head spinning and only opened them when they came to a stop. Even though his legs could barely hold him up, the Kid was grateful to be out in the fresh air, when he and the rest of his work gang were pushed out onto the site they were to be working.
He knew he was in real trouble when as soon as he hefted the axe thrust into his hands in order to start digging, a crippling pain across his chest and back took him to his knees as he gasped out a shallow gurgling breath. He struggled to his feet only to fall again "Look, you ain't fooling no one, stand up, you're holding the work back with your antics." The Kid tried again to get to his feet at the hard push on his back, amid laughter from both the guards and a couple of the other men. Although one set of gentle hands attempted to help him, his legs simply hadn't the strength and he fell back to his knees with an almost breathless sigh. The impact sent agony through his body. Just before everything faded out he heard one of the guards say. "I don't think he's faking, so we'll just haul him out and stick him under that tree over there and tie him to it. He won't go nowhere till we're ready to leave."
The Kid woke sometime later blinking in the bright sun. Not wanting to alert his captors that he was awake, he struggled carefully against his tight bonds. He realised he was tied to tree, and also discovered he had no memory of how he'd been caught and couldn't remember why his chest hurt so much. He firmly put those thoughts aside as he tried to work out just how much trouble he was in. A quick glance round told him Heyes wasn't tied either next to him or near him, so he guessed he had managed to escape capture, which meant there was some hope. He could hear muffled voices just out of his sight and figured that was where his captors were. Before he could notice anything else, he passed out again. Next time he woke up, the sun was much lower in the sky and he was cold. Where on earth was Heyes? It wasn't like him to be so tardy. Despite his fogged mind as he looked vaguely down at his chest, a sudden rush of realisation shot through him and he remembered everything. Black spots were flashing across his vision and the pain in his chest was almost unbearable, so he just let unconsciousness take him again.
Next time he woke, he was in what he assumed was the infirmary of the prison judging by the smells that assaulted his senses and the greater amount of light that made his head ache. His anxiety which had peaked at the sound of light footsteps, didn't ease any when a man spoke just to his right. "Ahh, welcome back! You've slept a good day. I'm the doctor here." The Kid remembering his last experience with a prison doctor tensed as the man leaned over him. The man looked kindly enough, but the Kid wasn't fooled. Not that he would have any say in what happened next of course, but expecting the worst was probably the sensible option. "There isn't a rule of silence when it's just you and me, but I guess you're not feeling real chatty at the moment."
The Kid was surprised at the man's pleasant manner and mentally prepared himself for the other shoe to drop as he lay in silence. He looked over at the door and saw with some degree of trepidation the man in charge barrel his way in to the room as he said with no preamble. "Well Marks, what's the verdict? When can he get back to work?"
The Doctor was tiny in comparison to the other man, but looked up easily to meet his gaze, with his arms folded, and head to one side. "When I say so."
The warden as the Kid thought of him loomed over the doctor, his face red with anger. "You ain't in charge here and don't get to decide that."
The Kid despite feeling so bad he thought unconsciousness might be preferable to being awake, felt a tug of amusement as he watched the exchange between the men as Doctor Marks snorted. "Well actually Clyde, right here, right now I am and I do. I'm not an inmate, so you can't punish me into doing what you want and you've no power to fire me. You've tried more than once to make things difficult and if you try it again, I can certainly guarantee you won't be any more successful. So I tell you, just like I always do, he'll be ready when he's well enough and not before. I'm not changing my mind just to satisfy your desire to make a fast buck, so just leave us be."
Clyde opened his mouth to argue, then with a final glare that included both the doctor and the Kid started to turn on his heel. But as he did so, the doctor grabbed his wrist. "And I'll be checking up after he's back in his cell, to make sure this young man isn't suffering just because you didn't get your own way." After another glare at the doctor, the man stomped out without a backwards glance.
The Kid whispered as the doctor came over to him. "Thank you, Sir. I didn't expect that."
"Well, you're already paying for whatever you did, so I don't see any need for you prisoners to suffer needlessly when you're sick. Now as I was about to say, you've got a chest infection and severe dehydration. Can't do much for your chest, cept to sit you up and keep you off your feet, but we gotta get some water in you, fast as we can." He stopped and then asked briskly. "When did you last pee?"
The Kid was a bit embarrassed at the question, but tried to remember and realised with some surprise that it'd been more than a day. "Weren't the mornin' I took sick, maybe the mornin' before. I don't rightly remember. I'm sorry, Sir."
"No matter, now drink this real slowly and if you tolerate it, I'll get you some more. I can't release your arm but you should have enough give to help yourself." He handed the Kid a mug of water, free from the smell of laudanum.
The Kid did as he was told and finished it slowly enough, and with little enough problem, that he was allowed a second and a third. The last time water had tasted so good was out in the desert after Seth had died and they'd realised that they weren't about to join him. The Kid fell asleep soon after the doctor took away the third empty mug and only woke when he realised he had a need to pee. He called out softly, but got no answer and when he looked round could see no one. He figured that the doctor's apparent kindness had probably just been another cruel trick. His cheeks burned in embarrassed anger, as he felt a warm trickle of liquid splash out, soaking his uniform and the sheet below. If he was left long enough it'd dry, but the smell would be obvious and there would be a stain. He was forced to lay in the wetness as it soaked into his skin, because he couldn't move enough to avoid it, restrained and weak as he was.
"I should have considered this would happen." The Kid was brought out of his misery and self-disgust by the doctor's voice, but could do nothing but glare before turning away, unable to meet his gaze, suspicious and disbelieving at his apparent sympathy. He barely avoided flinching when the man put a soft hand on his shoulder and gently turned his head so they were facing each other. "Son, I know what you're thinking and I don't blame you, but it sure wasn't my intention. I got called away and was longer than I expected. I truly am sorry. Now lets get you clean and dry and then maybe we can start over."
The Kid's sense of gratitude had soured into bitter resignation, but he had no energy to resist as he endured the humiliation of his still damp clothes being removed and his legs and private areas being wiped clean with a surprisingly warm and soft cloth. He obediently rolled onto his side for the sheet to be changed before he was gently re clothed in dry pants. Once he had got his breath back and was lying semi-sat up, he reluctantly took the mug of water the doctor gave him. "You need to drink some more. That pee is far too strong and I bet it burnt you some coming out." The Kid sipped at the drink, because he had no doubt that whatever his feelings on the matter, he'd be forced to finish it. He was puzzled by the man's manner, there was no hint of triumph or pleasure in his slightly worried gaze.
When the Kid had half finished the water, Marks' face lightened and the crease in his forehead eased and a slight smile crossed his face just before he turned away to look for something. "I should have done this in the first place. Looking down as he felt some pressure between his legs the Kid saw that the man had tucked a bottle there and was adjusting it carefully. "Now, tell me does that feel comfortable?"
The Kid felt some of his desperate anger ease, but not trusting his voice nodded carefully as he took another sip of the water allowing some of his earlier trust in the man to return.
It was three days before the pain in the Kid's chest eased to the point where he could breathe easily. The doctor was careful to make sure there was no repeat of the first day. He slept a lot and rarely ate the meals that were brought to him, despite the doctor's repeated requests. The Kid was always a little surprised that the doc never took it beyond a firm appeal. "Look you need to eat, so you can get some strength back, or you aren't going to stay well once you're working again."
The Kid wasn't convinced it was worth the effort to recover, despite hating how weak and exhausted he was feeling. It wasn't like he had anything to look forward to even if he did get over his illness. Heyes had no idea where he was and no one else cared, so all he had in front of him, was another seven years of pain and then an uncertain future back in the outside world. Heyes wouldn't give up looking, but the Kid felt he'd be long past the point of having anything to offer anyone, by the time he was out. He thought about his options and decided that even with his friend's persistence and all the new technology out there, if he high tailed it north or south, making sure he lay low and didn't do anything to draw attention to himself, Heyes wouldn't find him however hard he looked. While the thought of never seeing Heyes again brought a new level of pain, he had to face reality, because he knew Heyes wouldn't. It'd be perhaps better for them both if that future didn't occur. Too tired to think anymore, his thoughts trailed off and he dozed, without having made any firm decisions.
He came awake to the now familiar tread of the doctor and opened his eyes as he came over to him with a smile on his face. "Now, I just come from talking to Clyde and we've reached an agreement. He gets you back working in three days and in turn you get this." He waved an envelope at the Kid who looked at it more than a little curious. He managed a smile at the gleam in the doctor's eyes and asked softly. "What you got on him?"
Marks grinned in reply as he handed over the envelope. "Now then, that don't matter to you. Lets just say it's enough."
The Kid opened the envelope before carefully removing and unfolding the single sheet of paper and his heart leapt as he recognised the untidy scrawl.
I finally tracked you down with a little help. Hope you ain't got yourself into too much trouble, cos I got a plan, a proper legal plan in case whoever else is reading this needs to know that. So, Kid, you do whatever you need to do, so you stay safe and we'll take it from there.
XXX
Heyes impatiently paced the telegram office, his face dark as he muttered to himself. He was aware of the man behind the counter glancing at him a bit nervously, but really didn't care about the effect he was having. He stopped mid pace as the man cleared his throat meaningfully. "Whatcha bin waiting for has just come through."
Heyes over by the telegrapher in seconds, snatched the paper out of his hands and gave a low whoop of pleasure as he read the few words.
Success. Arrive Cheyenne by train on 25th. Soapy