Chapter Three

The mournful hush couldn't contain its heavy grip in the small, windowless room for long. The silence dissolved from a stunned shock to the wracking of an older man's body, the tears coursing down his cheeks now mingling with the sniffing of his nose, and then the gentle sound of grief emitted from his mouth. Jonesy's head was low, the pain of loss throbbing in his temples all the way down to his core. He took a shaky breath, quickly followed by another, as the first wasn't deep enough to replace the quivering of his lips with the hallowed words that were running repeatedly through his mind.

"'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me'…" Jonesy's voice trailed off, the emotion overwhelming him, the next verse only being able to be produced through his head before his lips could find the ability to form the words into sound again. "'Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever'."

"Oh, Andy," Slim's head went backward, the rod preventing him from looking straight up. "Dear God, they killed him. They killed Andy."

Jess looked over at Slim, the torture tearing through his body as strong as he had ever felt it, knowing that it was the same pulse of grievous suffering that Slim was feeling. Except in Slim, it was worse. He wanted to say something encouraging, as though a positive "what if" existed, but nothing could be formed on Jess' lips other than the bitterness that he tasted on his tongue.

"Why?" A moan came from Slim's chest, and then a heartbreaking sob broke through his mouth.

Jess didn't think his heart could have shattered any further, but seeing Slim broken apart and tears in his eyes undid Jess even more. He shuddered, the birth of retaliation coming in explosive proportions in his veins. He still heard every shot that was fired on a firm rotation in his head, but the sound had just switched directions, with Jess at the trigger's end, a man in a suit at the other. He would get him. He would get them all. Jess knew that Slim would be feeling the same lightning bolts of revenge, and Jonesy was likely included in that category too, but it would be his hands that would perform them. It would have to be.

"I'll kill them for this, Slim," Jess vowed through gritted teeth, his fists growing tight together. "With my bare hands if need be, I'll kill them for what they've done, even if there's a gallows waiting for me at the end."

The shock of death and its cruelty had numbed Jess' mind, the pinpointed memory of his own activity gone, for the rawhide around his wrists was still in the same position as it had been when the first bullet was fired. He wasn't inches from freedom, but the bindings had slipped enough that if his hands had still been working to fulfill his attempt, when the door was pushed open, Jess might have honored his vow sooner than anyone had expected. The taste was so vile in Jess' mouth at the sight of Cross that he spit as the man stepped through the door, the shot of saliva just missing his foot between strides. Cross hadn't missed it, but he kept his eyes focused on Slim as he stuck his thumbs in the belt loops around his waist.

"My, my, you do look miserable," Cross said shaking his head, adding an annoying tsk-tsk, "you'd think you had just lost a brother."

"You think you're a big man," Jess growled, his eyes in slits as he stared at Cross. "If you're gonna show how big you can get, why didn't you show it to me instead? I'd grind you under my foot and show just how low you really are!"

"If I wanted to talk to you, Harper," Cross turned slightly toward Jess, "then I'd address you. But right now, all I'm interested in is Sherman. Well, Sherman?"

"What do you want?" Slim's voice started out soft, the quivering of his lips unmasked, but it quickly gained strength, until what emitted from his mouth was like a cannon had fired. "What do you want!"

"Well, for starters, I wanted to prove my point," Cross stared at Slim, not trying to hide his gloating at Slim's obvious agony. "And since by looking at you, it appears I fully accomplished that. But as for what I really want, I'm going to drag out the suspense just a little while longer."

Slim shook his head in disbelief, his voice still high in volume, "you killed my brother and you don't have the gall to tell me why?"

"Oh, I didn't kill anyone," Cross said, holding back a chuckle.

"Sure," Jess barked, fiery sparks flying from his eyes and in the sharp enunciation of each word, "'cause you don't do the dirty work, so you let one of your goons do it for you. That still ain't gonna save you from what I've got in mind for you."

"Harper," Cross said, giving Jess an aggravated eye roll, "I thought I told you that I only wish to converse with Sherman. Until that changes, shut up!" Cross took a deep breath and then once more faced Slim. "Now, back to our business. I told you I'm ruthless, and it's true, but no, Sherman, I didn't kill your brother. I wouldn't kill someone that I can still use. Rex," Cross turned his head toward the door. "Bring the boy back in."

"What?" Slim jumped, forgetting his bindings and he jerked his arms hard away from the iron rod as Rex pushed Andy through the door. He was upright, whole, and not a drop of blood was on him. "Andy!"

"I'm all right, Slim," Andy answered softly, wanting to race to his brother's side, but knowing that he couldn't as Rex stopped him next to Cross. Andy couldn't hide the shudder that coursed through his body when Cross put an arm around his shoulders.

"Why you…you…no good…" Slim seethed, his cheeks bursting with the fire he felt inside, yet it was his fury that silenced the flames that he really wanted to throw. He hadn't been too far from sharing Jess' burning retaliation, and now discovering that his pain had only been produced by a farce, Slim was even closer to being at a killer's edge.

"What's this all about?" Jonesy asked, his eyes unable to stop the fresh tears from escaping his eyelids, ones that were now carrying the marks of relief, yet his heart still battled between grief and fear. The man still had Andy in his clutch. "Or am I not allowed to ask?"

"You catch on quick, Jonesy," Cross nodded with one of his sinister smiles, "but since you're more polite than Harper, I'll go ahead and answer. I had to make all of you believe that I'll go to any length to make sure I get what I want, and that includes killing a boy. Or, as a matter of fact, killing any of you. What do you say, Jonesy, do you want to be my next victim? Maybe," Cross took the two steps necessary to be nearly toe to toe with Jess, "I'll choose you. Except then it won't be a game anymore. It'll be the real deal."

"Go ahead and try," Jess challenged, his blue eyes locked with Cross' evil pair, that although were brown, were suddenly the darkest black.

"Some other time," Cross swallowed, the first indication that he held a portion of fear in his bones for Jess. "But as I was saying, I had to prove to each of you that I mean business. I think by that little display out there that I made myself quite clear."

"What'd you do, just fire all your rounds into the sky, just to take pleasure in another man's grief?" Slim asked, his lungs only a small part of his body that reacted heavily to how he felt. He couldn't stop his limbs from trembling, the shock, relief, and rage too much for him to suppress. Slim felt as if his body had been physically beaten, emotionally it had been and it was reacting in an insurmountable way that he'd never felt before.

"You're wrong, there, Sherman," Cross laughed, sticking a finger in his chest. "I wasn't even holding a gun at all. Rex' gun went unfired, too. I'd let you check it, but that would be pretty stupid of me."

"But all those shots…" Jonesy shook his head, his mouth agape.

"That was all Andy's doing. You see, I was teaching the boy how to shoot," Cross smiled, hugging Andy close to his side. "He's not very good, you know, but in time, he could learn to be a marksman. He hit two of his targets anyway, so it wasn't a total loss. I enjoyed it."

"I'll bet," Jess snapped, his hands reshaping into fists, creating a trickle of blood to drip down a finger. It was in this moment that Jess remembered that before the fear took over, the rawhide had started to slide. He straightened his back, his hands completely hidden and began to flex his fingers, the tightest band slipping over one thumb. "Sick men do have a twisted version of entertainment."

"That 'entertainment' as you call it, Harper, can easily be for you. Now for the last time, pipe down!"

"You could have accomplished your point by firing the gun into the air," Jonesy said, still daring to use his speech, but wary that he could be the next one that Cross would demand to be quiet. "Why'd you let Andy shoot?"

"It had its purpose," Cross said, patting Andy on the arm. "You see, Andy here is going to show his big brother what he learned to do with a gun."

"What do you mean?" Slim asked, not turning his eyes away from Andy's frightened face. Somehow, just by looking at his brother, Slim knew that Andy was already well informed of what was happening next.

"You sweat easily," Cross explained, still wearing his repulsive grin. "Let's see you sweat some more. Because it's my belief that if I sweat a man enough, he'll give in without a fight."

"You're gonna get a fight all right, you just wait until I…"

"Harper," Cross snapped, something on his inside and his outside, his fingers producing the sound as his chest produced the rest. "You're one second away from being removed from the building. And if I have to do that, there won't be any practice session with guns out there. Do I make myself clear?"

"Ease off, Jess," Slim warned quickly, real fear coursing through his body of what would happen if Cross pulled Jess out of the room.

"Now if we can finally continue," Cross took a step backward so that Andy was in front of him, yet his left hand didn't leave the boy's shoulder. "Andy's going to show off his firing skills, and you, big brother, are going to be his target."

"What?" The astonished word came out of Slim's mouth first, but it was quickly echoed by both Jess and Jonesy.

"He's not supposed to shoot you, Sherman," Cross said, taking his index finger to draw a circle in the air, "just around you. But if he misses and hits you, well, let's just hope that the miss isn't to one of your vitals."

"You're crazy," Jonesy said, his eyes wide with renewed fear.

"You might be right, Jonesy," Cross gently laughed and then his face finally drew to a serious expression. "Now, to make sure this is done right, Harper is going to need to be subdued. Rex," Cross gave a slight nod toward Jess, "make Harper be good."

As Rex stepped in front of him, Jess had no choice but to still his hands and he gripped his fingers tightly together to try to block the view of the rawhide that was starting to unwind. He could do nothing about the blood that dripped down his wrists and onto the ground, but he hoped that Rex wouldn't have a reason to bend down and see the red splatters against the iron rod behind him. Jess stared up at Rex and the gun in his hand, pointed dangerously close to his heart, but it wasn't this gun where Jess' focus would remain. But on another.

"All right, Andy," Cross opened his jacket and pulled out a pistol, placing it into Andy's palm. "Just like I taught you. Firm grip of the handle and easy pull on the trigger."

"Don't think about anything this lamebrain mighta told you, Andy," Jess said, getting Andy's head to turn in his direction. "Do like I taught you. Point, don't aim. You can do it. I know you can."

"But I…" Andy's voice barely could produce volume, his hand slowly bringing the gun away from his side, only to be dropped back down again.

"Go ahead, Andy," Slim said, knowing that his courage needed to support his brother, and he hoped that it shone in his eyes clear enough for Andy to see. "I'm not afraid, you don't have to be either."

"But…but Slim," Andy wavered, his hand shaking enough that the pistol visibly quivered against his side. "I could…could shoot you."

"Maybe the gun's not even loaded," Jonesy suggested, trying to tap into Cross' conniving mind, "and he just wants to scare us some more. Cross has already proved that he's got no more scruples than a rattlesnake before it chomps you to death."

"Interesting thinking, Jonesy," Cross smiled, nudging Andy on the back. "Go ahead and pull the trigger so everyone can find out if it's loaded or not. Do it, or do I let Rex trigger his into Harper instead?"

"Fire the gun, Andy," Slim said, locking his gaze with his brother's, his words steady like the rock that he really was. "I trust you."

"Go ahead, Andy, what are you waiting for?" Cross said, his own gun finally being revealed, showing everyone in the room that Andy didn't dare turn around with a gun in his hand. "Oh, and you can't cheat and send the bullet into the roof or into the ground. And one more thing, if one of your bullets hits that rod behind your brother, the bullet will likely ricochet. It could hit you, Jonesy or even Harper."

"Or you," Jonesy said wryly.

"You can always have hope, can't you Jonesy?" Cross said with a prevalent frown. "But what you need to hope is that Andy's aim has perfected since our little practice session out there. Get going, kid, I'm tired of waiting for the show to start."

"Come on, Andy," Jess coached, knowing that Andy would believe his every word as his faith had always been firmly planted in the former gunfighter. "The first will be the hardest, and as soon as that one's behind you, you'll have the confidence for the others. Point your finger. That's your aim. And fire."

The gun was slowly raised and the hammer was pulled back, and a fearful set of eyes stared down its sights. This was a place where no man ever expected to be in, facing the barrel of a gun held by one of his most trusted. Slim knew he had to remain as still and calm as possible, any flinch, no matter how small, could throw off Andy's aim. Slim gave a slight nod, and the trigger was pulled, the bullet ramming into the wall five inches away from Slim's left arm. There was no time for a sigh of relief, for Andy's thumb was reaching up for the hammer again. Slim nodded a second time, the beads of sweat on his forehead matching the line of moisture on his brother's brow and the trigger was pulled again, the blast making the boy jump as another hole was created in the wall. This time, only a fraction of an inch from the same arm.

It had been too close. Andy's hand was drenched in sweat, the quivering of his arms and legs making the gun want to slide out of his hand. He knew by the pressure at his back that he would be forced to continue, so he returned the gun to its point, fear and guilt prickling into his skin like porcupine quills. Andy sought his brother's face, and saw in his whole being a solid faith, a man without fear. He knew in that moment that he didn't have just one hero, but he had two. Jess and Slim. He gave a nod, seeing Slim return it, and Andy pulled the trigger, the bullet finding the wall again, this time, just above Slim's head. He prepared the gun one more time, the last bullet too uncomfortable to place it similarly, and Andy fired the gun, the bullet lodging into the wood lower toward the floor. Hadn't Cross distinctly said not to do that?

Andy trembled, fear of the retaliation that could strike him, but Cross didn't attempt a reprimand, but it was enough to unravel any confidence that had been built up by the previous four shots. Andy found a spot on the wall, licked his lip and pulled the trigger, his eyes wincing shut at the pressure underneath his finger, but then they popped wide open as Slim's body recoiled from the impact of the bullet slamming into his right shoulder.

"Slim!" Andy cried, the gun feeling like fire in his palm, he dropped it to the ground and lunged toward Slim, but Cross clamped a hand on his arm, preventing him from taking more than one step.

"Not just yet," Cross said, picking the gun up off of the floor. "You still have one more bullet left. Fire it."

"No," Andy said defiantly, refusing the offered gun in Cross' hand.

"You either will, or I will," Cross raised the gun, pointing it at Slim's skull. "What'll it be?"

"All right. I'll…I'll do it," Andy held out his palm and Cross grinned wickedly as the gun filled Andy's hand once more. He didn't care what might happen to him afterward, but he wasn't going to point anywhere near Slim this final time. Andy touched the trigger, the bullet sailing overhead coming to a stop near the roofline.

"I'm done with you now, boy," Cross shoved Andy back toward the rod that had been his. "Sit down."

"Ow," Andy couldn't help but wince as Cross forcefully pulled both hands together and retied his wrists, tears starting to trickle down his cheeks, but not from any pain to his own flesh.

"You have enough fun yet?" Slim asked, staring up at Cross as the man regained his position in front of him, trying to keep his breathing steady as his blood pumped through the hole in his shoulder.

"We'll see," Cross tucked the gun that Andy had fired in at his belt line. "But now that I have your undivided attention, here's the deal. I want your ranch, Sherman, and by the time I'm done with all of you, I'm not going to have to take it, you're going to flat out give it to me."

…

The first gunshot brought Mort's hand up, his first reaction was to stop the posse from going forward, but his second came swiftly after. He gasped as an internal pain throbbed in his chest, the shots still coming, one after the other, counting six in all. An icy pit solidly formed in Mort's middle, resulting in a shiver down his spine. Six shots. Four victims. Mort suddenly turned pale as the realization of what the gunfire might have meant. Six shots could have been needed, not just four, considering how well Mort knew the victims, in particularly one. It could have easily taken more than one bullet to down Jess Harper.

"Whaddya make of it, Mort?" Mose asked, his eyes, as were every other posse man, scanning the hills above them.

"Sounds like only one gun, not a back and forth battle," Mort rubbed his jaw, the fear and reality stinging all over his flesh.

He took a deep breath, gauging the distance of the gunfire to the posse's location. A mile, maybe a little further, but he knew they definitely needed to lessen the gap. Mort turned in the saddle, looking in the faces of the seven men that rode with him, some etched with fear, others with determination, but all with one goal in mind. Do the job they set out to do. Mort returned a forward motion in the saddle, ready to continue onward, when another round of shots were fired. His heart leaping in his chest, Mort kept the posse stilled, knowing that a normal man with friends in danger would rush quickly ahead. But Mort wasn't just a friend, he was a lawman. And he had to do this right.

"I don't know what's up there, boys," Mort said, the caution as evident on his face as in his voice, "but we're taking it slowly. Let's go."

Foot by foot, the space between the posse and the lone man atop the hill was being eaten away, although much slower than the gunman had anticipated. The lawman must have been smart. He waited, knowing that if he fired too quickly, the men below him would have a chance to scatter. He waited, the minutes ticking by, each one bringing a rush of anticipation in his chest. He had waited, but now the waiting was over. His rifle was raised and pointed, a slow countdown forming on his lips that started at ten. At five he closed one eye, searching for the star. At two he found it. At zero he fired.

…

"You want my ranch?" Slim questioned, exchanging glances with Jess and Jonesy, although the look he shared with Jonesy was more in concern with a bullet being lodged in his flesh.

"That's what I said, oh, Rex," Cross said, reaching a hand forward, he pressed his fingers near Slim's wound, more blood seeping out at the touch. "Go get a cloth or something for Sherman. Make sure it's clean, we wouldn't want him to get a deadly infection."

"Right," Rex nodded, holstering his weapon, he finally stepped away from Jess, and once more, his hands began to work on the binds behind him.

"That would really bother you, wouldn't it?" Slim asked, trying not to grimace at the pulsating pain.

"Might cry a river," Cross returned with a similar amount of sarcasm lacing his voice.

"Here C.C.," Rex said when he returned a minute later with a folded towel, which was promptly thrown in Slim's direction. "Bull's outside, said a posse's coming."

"Why should that disturb me?" Cross shrugged his shoulders. "Snake will take care of them. You must be highly regarded in Laramie, considering how quickly a posse was on our trail. Nevertheless, that won't affect our business any. I'll leave you for now, Sherman," Cross said, one foot pointing toward the door. "You can discuss between yourselves what you wish to do about my proposal."

"How bad is it, Slim?" Jonesy asked when the door went shut.

"It's not too bad," Slim lied. He couldn't describe the wound's torture when the one that had pulled the trigger was sitting near him, in obvious more pain than he physically was in.

"I'm sorry, Slim," Andy dropped his head close to his chest and cried, his body heaving with repeated sobs.

"Don't cry, Andy," Slim said, taking a sharp intake of breath to steady his voice. "This isn't your fault, none of it is. You didn't shoot me, not really, not where it counts anyway. You were forced to pull the trigger, but your heart didn't intend to hurt me."

"But…but Slim…" Andy whimpered, unable to look at the bloody mass on Slim's shoulder. "You could die."

"I'm not going to die, Andy," Slim promised, although he knew he couldn't make his words turn into a truth.

"It'll take more than a little bullet to do in ol' Hardrock here, Andy, you know that," Jess said, trying to sound more positive than he felt. "Dad-gum, all this for the ranch? What do you think he wants it for anyway?"

"I don't know," Slim shook his head, trying to let the air slowly pass in and out of his lips. "I've been trying to figure that out. Can't be just the land, could it? The railroad maybe?"

"Could be," Jonesy said with a shrug, turning his head toward Slim, "but I know one thing, he's not finished with us yet, that's for sure."

"He will be if I can just," Jess squirmed, pushing his fingers against the leather around his hands, "get this dad-gummed," he pulled as tight as he could, the rawhide finally snapping under the intense pressure. "Got it!"

"Jess! You're free!" Andy exclaimed, the sound of joy in his throat replacing the deeply etched guilt.

"Yeah, and I'll have you the same in no time. But first," Jess hurried to Slim's side and put one knee to the ground. He pulled Slim's shirt opened, peeled away the folded cloth and looked at the wound. Only flesh appeared to be involved, but danger still lurked inside as long as the bullet remained there.

"No, Jess," Slim gasped as Jess replaced the cloth into his shoulder with a firm press. "You can't free us."

"What do you mean?" Jess barked, but then dropped his voice to a hiss. "I ain't gonna leave you tied up, especially with you shot and bleeding all over the place."

"We have nothing to fight with, Jess," Slim said, looking hard in Jess' face, trying to get his partner to lock eyes with him. "They could be back any minute. You have to get out of here now. Every second counts."

"I've got my fists, and by the way I feel inside, that's all it's gonna take. I'm gonna have them, Slim," Jess tapped his palm firmly with a finger, "right here in my hands."

"The only way you'll get that chance is to get out of here. Now will you do as I say and get going?"

"I dunno, Slim," Jess held out his hands so Slim could see his bloody wrists. "I didn't cut my hands and wrists up just so I can be the only one to breathe some fresher air."

"You have to go, Jess," Slim put his left hand on Jess' arm, getting his complete attention to Slim's face. "You really have no other choice."

"Maybe not, but," Jess answered, starting to see Slim's point, but then he turned, his aim for Andy's rod. "At least lemme take Andy outta here."

"No, Jess," Slim refused to release Jess' arm, pulling him back in front of him. "You have to go alone."

"I ain't gonna leave you here like this," Jess tugged his arm out of Slim's grasp and headed for the door. "Besides, it's a fool notion anyway, the door's locked. I'll just wait for them to come back in and jump them."

"You can't jump them all. I know what you're capable of, but our ambition is to get out of here alive. I already thought I lost someone important; don't make me have to witness the actual loss of another."

"I don't know if it'll be any help," Jonesy motioned with his head behind him. "But there's been a cold draft at my back since I sat down here."

"I'll take a look," Jess stepped behind Jonesy, dropping his knees into the soil where it was noticeably damper. He dug his hands into the soft soil and pulled the mound toward him, the boards in the wall starting to move as their support was no longer underneath. "There's a coupla loose boards down here letting air through. I think I can break this one out. Yeah, it's pulling easy. It feels colder outside. Wind musta changed. Sorry, Jonesy, I'm gonna make a bigger draft."

"That's all right," Jonesy found a grin, "just you get going so that I can be in front of a warm fire before bedtime." But then Jonesy's smile faded slightly as Jess took his coat off and wrapped it around Jonesy's shoulders. "Oh, Jess, you don't have to do that. But, thank you."

"Get going, Jess," Slim said, his voice firm with the command.

"Slim," Jess hesitated at the opening, "I can't leave you here like this."

"I'd be no good out there, Jess," Slim said, the truth of his words emblazoned like the blood on his shirt. "I don't have the strength to run."

"I'd make it about three feet and then keel over," Jonesy said, barely lifting one leg from the ground.

"I'd only slow you down, Jess," Andy said softly, trying not to cry again knowing that Jess was about to leave, "what with the way you'd be watching out for me."

"Go, Jess," Slim's voice hammered even harder. "Hurry. They said there was a posse coming, remember? Get to that posse, Jess, and then you can save us all."

"Slim…I…"

"Go, Jess!"

He'd been given his orders, and although he knew Slim was right, it took every ounce of his strength to obey them. Jess crawled through the opening, the damp air holding a distinct chill, but he wouldn't allow his body a single shiver. He stepped cautiously away from the building, his eyes darting back and forth for any one of his adversaries. There was nothing in sight. Not a man, not a horse, not another building. But there was plenty of cover for any of these things to be hidden, by boulders, brush and trees all around.

Jess looked up at the sky, the gray darkening, indicating a later hour, but not giving him a clear signal of which direction to take. Jess took one step, knowing that he was completely open to any seeing eyes, and as a gunshot didn't explode into his being, Jess took another, his pace quickening with each drop of his foot onto the ground. Now at a run, Jess sped over the rocky ground, increasing the rate of his strides until he met his maximum ability. An ache formed in his chest, both from the rapid action of his lungs and the tearing of his soul from leaving their place of torture alone.

Shots suddenly erupted behind him and Jess slid to a stop. Breathing heavily through his open mouth, he turned in each direction, his rapid heart rate throbbing in his chest and temples, the fear its own pulsating thrum that hammered just as quickly. He was about to retrace his steps when another round of gunfire peppered the air, but without the pounding of his feet underneath him, Jess could better gauge its direction. Too far to the right. The posse, not the shack. He would have felt relief, but the distance of the shots told him that he'd taken the wrong route. Instead of going toward the posse, Jess had run away from it. He would have to go back.

"Dad-gum," Jess wheezed, lowering his head as he dropped his hands to his knees, trying to return the air going in and out of his lungs to normalcy, but he wouldn't get the chance. He heard nothing, but something triggered his sense of alarm and slowly, Jess raised his head. Squinting into the distance, Jess saw the figure of a man, but it wasn't just any man, it was a half-breed, in a dead run coming right at him. And if Jess' vision could be trusted, there was a rifle held in the man's right hand.

"They run fast and can accomplish nearly any task in complete silence, and they hold the ability to kill without their victim knowing what's happening."

The echo of Cross' words flitted into Jess' head and he went upright, his legs moving faster than they'd taken him before, but he knew that he was no match for the one that sprinted after him. Jess kept his focus on what was before him, knowing that any wrong step could be his last, but he had to take one daring glance behind. The gap between both men was steadily closing. Jess tried to push his body harder, but it had taken nearly all it could handle. His knew his legs were giving out, but he refused to stop. The terrain, however, begged to differ.

Jess barely got his feet stilled before there was nothing underneath him. He was at a cliff's edge, the gap in the earth unable to be seen from the approaching distance as it was only a crevice, the span wide enough that a man might not be able to jump it, but the distance below so far that a man would never survive it. Jess turned, the man close enough now that he could see distinguishing marks, most notably, the rifle. And that was likely only a small portion of his arsenal. He had no other choice. The other side boasted more cover, his side, nearly none. Jess took a deep breath and running a few steps backward to gain forward momentum, Jess leapt through the air, his hands reaching out as the distance needed more than what his legs could offer.

His palms hit the edge of the cliff side and Jess dug his fingers in, but there wasn't anything solid to grip. Jess' chest and stomach hugged the rock wall, but his legs dangled loosely in the air. As he attempted to hoist himself up, he heard the rifle behind him being prepared to fire and Jess ducked his head, the bullet bouncing off of the rock wall where his skull had been moments before. Another crack of the rifle brought a bullet close enough to Jess' hand that he felt the scattering of pebbles bounce across his knuckles, the already open skin stinging with the impact of the shards of debris. His breath came in short puffs, waiting for the next bullet, but at the same time, feeling his grip loosen. He wasn't going to make it. One by one, Jess' fingers pulled loose from the cliff, the bullet no longer necessary, his body beginning to flail as it suddenly knew his fate.

Jess took one look down at what was below him, and then he knew nothing but rushing air, his body powerless as he hurtled downward.

:.:.:

I admit most of this chapter comes from my own conniving mind. I have received some good ideas from readers that I will put to use, but it was too soon for certain types of action to be included.

The big thanks here goes to Daryl Silvers, who gave me the "reason" after chapter one, but I couldn't give a glaring spoiler at the end of chapter 2, since it wasn't revealed until now that Cross wants the ranch. Also, an added thank you goes to NicknHotchfan, who helped show me that I was leading the readers in the right direction in my storytelling by accurately guessing the reason for the kidnapping.

To CoryLynne, even though Mort's "piece" in this chapter is small, do know that doesn't mean he and the posse will be out of the picture. They are a solid part of this story, so thank you for wanting to make sure they have more of just an "in and out" role.

Kappa Girl, all I can say is that your suggestion intrigues me, so stay tuned.

Also, I just wanted to add that this is the longest chapter I've ever written. I didn't realize it was growing to be so lengthy until I glanced at the word count. I repeatedly went over it to see if there was anywhere that I could rewrite, omit or divide it into another chapter, but decided that it felt right as I first created it. And so, if it seems to go on forever or be too wordy, I apologize. Thank you all for your continued support. I appreciate it more than you can know. CW