Theo kept a close watch on the six people as his brother propped Perry Crane in the chair and tied him securely, stuffing the young red-haired woman's gloves into his mouth.
Patting Crane on his head when done, Gus walked back to the small group.
"Line them up against the wall, Theo, a couple of feet apart. And keep an eye on them."
As Theo kept his rifle at the ready, Gus went down the line. He used his pistol to shoot the young shotgun guard in the right thigh, slammed the spinster in the ribs with his big fist, kicked Doc in the right ankle with his big boot as hard as he could, viscously twisted Kitty's left arm behind her until it dislocated and she fell beside Doc, shot the old man in his right chest, and pistol whipped the old woman repeatedly until she stopped her screaming.
Stepping back to admire his work, all six of his victims on the ground in various states of consciousness and pain, Gus walked back over to Phyllis White and kicked her in the head, then walked over to Kitty who was moaning in Doc's arms, and kicked her fiercely in the ribs before Doc could cover her. Once more, he started to walk away, thought a moment, turned back and kicked Doc in the head. Then, laughing out loud, the big man walked back over to Kitty, pulled a big knife from his belt, bent down, and cut off a curl of her hair.
Perry Crane watched in helpless horror, and despite his own pain, a tear ran down his cheek at witnessing such senseless brutality.
Theo and Gus then picked up and dumped the six injured people into the bed of the wagon. Theo tied his horse to the rear and drove the rig away, Gus following on his horse, humming softly to himself, and smiling at the notes he had put in the bound young dude's back pockets.
The next abandoned relay station was Black Canyon, about ten miles further east. As the wagon bounced along, the injured began to stir. Kitty cradled Doc's bloody head in her good arm, trying to ignore the pain in her left shoulder and ribs. Phyllis White sat up groggily, her arms holding her sore ribs as blood ran into her eyes. The young man with the bullet in his leg had managed to tie his bandana around his thigh. The old man and his wife lay side by side, motionless.
When Doc came to, he struggled to sit up, knowing he had people who needed him.
"Kitty, Honey, I'll get that arm back in place and you'll feel some better." Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he gently palpated her shoulder, then her damaged ribs.
"No, Doc. That animal shot the old man and he hasn't moved. You go take care of him first. And the young man he shot in the leg."
Doc patted her hand, found his bag, and crawled forward towards the old couple and the shotgun guard, his right ankle throbbing, swollen and distorted.
Phyllis White watched the young woman with the painfully dislocated shoulder sending her doctor "father" or "friend" away to take care of others first. She filed it away as something to ponder. Then the beautiful young woman, so obviously in discomfort, pulled a handkerchief from her jacket, slowly wriggled over, and began to gently dab at the blood on the spinster's face from her head wound. Phyllis' eyes filled with tears as she shamefully looked down. She felt a soft touch on her face as the young woman lifted her chin and smiled into her eyes with the bluest, kindest eyes she had ever seen.
Doc had tightened and adjusted the bandana on Tim Scott's thigh after doing what little he could for the old man's wound, applying pressure with a bandage, and making a sling from his own handkerchief tied to one he pulled from the old man's pocket.
One quick look at the old woman and Doc knew that she was dead, her head a mass of blood from the severe pistol whipping she had received for the "crime" of her hysteria. Sadly, he crawled back towards Kitty who he saw had attended to the middle-aged woman with the minor head wound.
"Now, Kitty, the only way I can put your shoulder back is brute force. You ready, Honey?'
As Kitty nodded, Phyllis White crawled over, got behind Kitty, wrapped her arms around her waist and held her tightly.
"Kitty, I'm Phyllis. Let me help you."
Kitty turned her head and looked in the once disapproving face, saw a transformative smile, and nodded her head again.
Doc looked at the previously sour woman with admiration, knowing that her own ribs must also be in pain from the viscous punch she had received, along with the kick to her head.
Putting his left foot in her left armpit, and taking a firm grip on her left arm, Doc looked Kitty in the eyes and yanked as quickly and hard as he could. Feeling the arm go back in place, he caught her as she sagged in Phyllis' arms after giving a suppressed cry.
Phyllis flinched with her rib pain, and Doc gently took Kitty from her arms and laid her down, using his coat as a pillow.
Opening her eyes after a few moments, Kitty looked up into Doc's worried eyes and smiled.
"Thanks, Doc. It does feel better. And thank you, Phyllis." Kitty and Phyllis smiled at each other.
Doc had torn a long strip from Kitty's petticoat and was fashioning a sling for her when Gus rode over.
"It's been curiously fun watching you work on people who will all be dead soon. Of course, I'm saving pretty little "Kitty" for last, after I have some fun with her. Probably have to let my brother have some fun too. Now, before you put that sling on her, take off her pretty pink blouse. NOW."
Doc and Kitty and Phyllis looked at the man with a mixture of anger, indignation, and fear.
"What do you mean?! You leave her alone, you madman! Why are you torturing us all?!" Doc's face was red with anger as he sputtered at the big man riding so calmly beside the wagon.
Gus sighed, looked down, then met Doc's blue-grey eyes with dark eyes full of hate.
"Doctor. I have NEEDS. I've always had. And if you don't remove her blouse immediately, I will climb in that wagon and do it myself, and I definitely will not be gentle about it."
Doc looked at the man, knew he meant what he said, and turned back to Kitty. With Phyllis' help, they removed her tailored jacket, and then her pale pink blouse, trying to shield her from the madman's view as much as possible. Handing the blouse to Gus, Doc took off his vest and shirt, and helped Kitty into his shirt. Then he put her left arm into the petticoat sling.
"Thanks, Doc." Kitty put her right hand on Doc's arm.
Doc put his vest back on over his undershirt, and started to slip back into his jacket.
"Hold on there doctor! Toss your jacket and hers over here too."
Grumbling, Doc picked up Kitty's suit jacket and handed it with his coat to the big man riding alongside the wagon.
Gus tucked the blouse inside of his buckskin top and rode up beside his brother, handing the jackets to Theo. The brothers began talking and laughing together.
Watching them, Doc slowly slid his hand deep inside of his medical bag, felt inside of a small pouch, and pulled out a scalpel, slipping it down inside of his shoe boot. He would not let them have Kitty.