Chapter Seven
"Jess?" Slim repeated one more time, trying to quell the panic rising in his chest, but without an answer for the third consecutive time, it couldn't be stifled.
"Slim," Andy's tearful voice whispered near his ear. "Do you think that he's…?"
"I don't know, Andy, but to find out we've got to get loose," Slim said, pulling himself to his knees, Andy's own unfinished question marks churning inside of his mind. Was Jess still in the cave, or had he made it through the opening before the explosion shook every rock loose? Or, God forbid, was he somewhere underneath it all? "Turn around and let me feel your hands. Good boy, now stay still, I've got my fingers on the rawhide. Let me know if you feel it loosening or if I'm pulling too tight."
"It's coming, Slim," Andy said with excitement, as he started to wiggle his hands, "my right hand is almost free. There!"
"Now get me undone. Hurry," Slim urged, knowing that every second counted if Jess' life was on the line. The moment he felt the binds around his wrists coming apart, he flexed his palms, the ties opening and dropping to the ground. "Thanks Andy. Take care of Jonesy's knots, I've got to find Jess."
Slim placed the image of the cave's interior over the darkness, walking the short space to the nearest rock wall, hoping that what was imprinted in his mind was accurate. Sliding his hand across the rocks, he searched for the lantern that he remembered being perched on a ledge. He knew he had to be close, but Slim also knew that his foot could land in a crevice before he reached it. Slim felt his foot dip, and he held his stance, spreading his injured shoulder as wide as it allowed, when he finally found something that felt like glass.
"Jonesy, do you have a match?" Slim exhaled a held in breath, clutching the lantern to his chest.
"Think so," Jonesy answered, Andy's hands unraveling the rawhide behind him. "Andy, feel in my vest pocket and see if there's a match."
"Just one," Andy replied, holding tightly to the small stick.
"Better make good use of it then," Jonesy said, placing a hand on Andy's back, "carefully take it to your brother. Don't trip."
"Here, Slim," Andy reached out in the darkness, feeling for his brother and as he gripped the fabric of his shirt, the two palms collided, exchanging the match from one to the other.
"You smell something burning?" Jonesy asked, taking a deep breath through his nostrils.
"I just lit the match," Slim began, holding the flickering light near his eyes, but as his nose began to twitch, he realized it wasn't coming from anything in his fingertips. Quickly bringing the small flame to the lantern, as the brighter glow surrounded him, Slim swung the lantern around, the circle of light stretching far enough to reach a crumpled frame on the ground.
"Over there!" Jonesy pointed, all three of them running to Jess' unmoving body, the sight and smell coming together as wisps of smoke curled up from Jess' legs, arms and torso.
"Jess is on fire!" Andy's shout was hurtled directly back at him as the echo could travel no further than the separation of the stone walls.
"His clothes are smoldering," Slim's reply was more accurately stated, but it wasn't any less frightening.
"Better get him undressed, quick!" Jonesy said, beginning to tug on Jess' boots, the bottle of whiskey coming out in his hand as its medicinal properties would soon be needed. "His skin'll be next!"
With no time to open each button, Slim's hands gripped the top of Jess' collar and ripped down the center of his shirt, some of the buttons popping like corn off of the fabric and onto the stone floor. He carefully rolled Jess over, jerking the remainder of the shirt from Jess' back and slapped the hot fabric against the cold ground. His jeans created less smoke, but they were next to come off. Slim unbuckled Jess' belt and with Jonesy at the left and Slim at the right, they tugged together until Jess' pants released their tight hold against his backside. The added protection of Jess' cropped long johns spared his thighs from the heat, but from the knees down, Jess' skin was nearly as red as his underwear.
"Why wasn't he wearing an undershirt?" Slim asked, watching as Jonesy ran his hands over Jess' arms, feeling for burn marks. Slim didn't have to examine his partner the way Jonesy was doing to know if anything abnormal was there. His chest and down lower, especially around his navel, were dotted with blisters.
"He only has one fit to wear, and I washed it the morning we were took out," Jonesy said, slightly shaking his head. "I think the only thing that stopped him from fully igniting was that his shirt was already damp from our snowy trot up here. Otherwise, he'd be burned to a crisp."
"Some of his hair is singed," Slim ran his hand over the back of Jess' head, receiving a deep moan to form in Jess' chest as Slim's fingers probed for an additional blow to his skull, but only found the one that the half-breed had clubbed into him. "Sorry, Jess."
"That wasn't from your touch, Slim," Jonesy said, pressing his fingers into Jess' side, receiving another groan as a response. "Feels like he's got a couple of broken ribs. Right now there's not much I can do about that, but I sure wish we had some water to bathe down his skin with. At least the air is cold, that's better than nothing."
"Is he hurt badly, Jonesy?" Andy asked, wanting to reach out and touch Jess, but he kept his hands to his sides.
"Not too bad, Andy," Jonesy answered, his eyes lifting to the newly erected rock barrier that spanned from the cave's floor to its ceiling, and from an outside view, likely much wider and beyond anyone's reach. "He's pretty lucky, considering."
"From the way he's lying here, it looks like the blast probably hurtled him backward," Slim said, lifting the lantern to better illuminate their surroundings. "If it hadn't, he'd be buried underneath all of that rubble."
"His face is free from blisters," Jonesy pointed to Jess' cheeks. "He must've put his arms up over his eyes to shield them. Good thing that he did, too. Could've been worse no matter which way you look at it."
"How come he isn't waking up?" Andy looked back and forth between Slim and Jonesy. "There's not something else wrong, is there?"
"Not that I can find," Jonesy slightly shook his head as his hands ran back over Jess' arms, legs and then back to his ribs, the result of the pain making Jess flinch. "He might be trying to come around."
"Jess?" The three voices chimed nearly in unison.
"You all right, Pard?" Slim leaned his head closer to Jess' face as his eyelashes began to flutter, glimmers of blue reflecting the lantern light.
"Sl…Sli…mmm?" Jess quickly reached a hand upward and Slim caught his arm near his wrist, slowly bringing it back to Jess' side.
"Right here, Jess," Slim slid his hand up Jess' arm and squeezed his shoulder. "You've got to stop brushing so close to death."
"I think you're bound to make an old woman outta me," Jonesy chuckled, and Jess moved his eyes from Slim to Jonesy's face and then back again.
"Slim," Jess tried to raise his head, repeating Slim's name two more times, his voice sounding hollow, adjusting in volume before his head settled back to the cold, stone surface. "What's the matter with me?"
"Well, Jonesy said that you've got…"
"I said, what's the matter with me?"
"Jess, I'm trying to answer…"
"Dad-gum!" Jess' voice was a rattled shout, his body starting to quiver, enough that the tremble touched his lips, the repetitive question now coming out in a mere whisper. "What's the matter with me?"
"Jonesy?" Slim barely breathed the man's name, his eyes not leaving Jess' painful expression, accentuated by his partner's tightly closed eyes and slightly open mouth. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure, but I wonder," Jonesy ran his fingers along Jess' cheek, brushing upward until he reached his ear, and there, Jonesy lowered his mouth. "Jess? Can you hear me?"
But there was no response.
"Jess can't," Andy pulled his body backward, a hand rising to hover near his mouth. "Jess can't… No!"
"Take it easy, Andy," Slim tried to make his voice sound calm, but his pulse was racing just as rapidly as what thundered in his brother's chest, the fear running through his veins with the same velocity as he said the words inside of his head that Andy couldn't utter aloud. Jess can't hear.
"Jess," Jonesy moved his fingers to touch the corners of Jess' eyes, making the lids pop open. "Look at me," and now Jonesy's finger drew to a point from Jess' eyes to Jonesy's chest as he spoke slowly and carefully. "Look at me. Now, tell me if you can hear anything."
"What?" Jess asked, the fear that he usually masked now showing in every line of his face. "I can't… I can't… hear you. I can't… I can't… even hear myself."
"Calm down, Jess," Slim put his hands on Jess' shoulders to keep him still. "It's probably just…" But then Slim closed his mouth. It's probably just, what? He didn't have any answer, and even if he did, how could Slim relay those words to Jess, when his ears were as closed as the mouth of the cave?
Jess looked up at Slim, his mouth forming words that he couldn't understand, the only one able to be deciphered was his own name. He shook his head when Slim abruptly stopped, knowing that the reality of his hearing loss had just slapped his partner in the face like it was repeatedly doing to him. A shiver coursing through his body, Jess switched his gaze to his bare chest, arching a brow as it wasn't only his upper half that was exposed to the chilly air, but everything, his only covering the underwear over his backside and hips. Feeling a tap on his arm, Jess lifted his eyes to Jonesy, holding up his shirt, tattered and holey, the charred spots explanation enough that his body had been doing more than just smoking.
He had pain, searing from his side, up to the surface and across his stomach, but a burn couldn't penetrate that deep. Jess pressed a hand to his ribs, inhaling a sharp rush of air as he made contact with the break, his eyes smarting with tears that he would never let grow into actual droplets. If only that was where his severity ended. But it was more, much more. If Jess was going to face this battle, it was going to be on his feet. Jess didn't care what anyone would say, and since he couldn't hear whatever was coming out of their mouths, it didn't matter much anyway. Jess was getting up. No stick of dynamite, no depraved half-breed, no burn, no break, no pain, no loss, not anything, was going to keep him on the ground.
Jess slowly stood, wanting to brush away the hands that helped him to his feet, but allowing the various grips around his arms to guide him upward. Jess knew he shouldn't turn the family away, as helping him had been a part of all of their lives since he first stepped foot on Sherman property, but he couldn't ignore his sudden isolation. He wasn't alone, but with a vital part of his being suddenly gone, the emotion that pushed hard inside of his chest was pure loneliness. They were all in the cave together, but Jess was locked in his own private cave. And like the rocks that were piled up against the opening, there was no wait out.
"You all right?" Andy asked, keeping his hands on Jess' flesh the longest.
Jess knew by the slow mouth movements what Andy had asked, but all he could give in response was a simple nod. He hurt throughout his body, the biggest throb coming from his side. His skin tingled in two different forms with cold and heat. And every sound was blocked by the ringing in his ears. Jess was far from all right, but what was the point of saying so if he couldn't hear his own proclamation? He could have shouted, whispered, or the first word to the last could have ranged up and down and anywhere in between and he would never know what volume or intensity he had used. No, the simple nod would just have to do.
Jess took a wobbly step, Andy's hand releasing its hold on his arm as he moved, giving him the ability to pull both hands up to touch his ears. The silence was somehow like thunder reverberating in his head. Or maybe that was just his thoughts. With only his brain to listen to, bursts of anger, frustration and pain were at its forefront, and without anything from outside of his body able to penetrate beyond the surface, the notes of fury would remain in place.
Jess took another step and as the rocky ground underneath him bit into his sock, the need for a more secure footfall brought his body around to grab his boots. His pants remained where they had been tossed, as at the moment, his boots were the only necessity. Jess stuck both feet into his boots, securing them with a stamp, his left unintentionally kicking a small rock into the shadows, but it wasn't another stone that it rolled against. Something was there. Turning, Jess sought Slim and the lantern that he held, talking, or at least by appearance Slim was talking, the worried expression that his partner wore was enough for Jess to know the subject matter was him. Normally a conversation centered about him without his knowledge wouldn't bother Jess, but now it only made the loneliness grow worse.
"Slim," Jess ventured with his voice, gaining all three's immediate attention. Jess gestured with his hand for Slim to come closer, not trusting his throat to offer another word. Strange, talking since he could say the simplest phrases as a baby up until now, and Jess wasn't sure what his own voice sounded like anymore. Maybe he didn't want to know. To Slim, Jonesy and Andy, Jess' call had sounded like a tortured plea.
Slim raised the lantern at Jess' point, hurrying the short span to be by his side. The dynamite built wall was directly in front of them, but it wasn't entirely made of rocks, as something at the bottom was made of flesh, blood and bone, for an arm stuck out from underneath the pile of rubble, the skin the color of a half-breed. Jonesy leaned down and pressed his fingers into the wrist, but there wasn't a single beat of life relaying from one to the other. Bull was dead. Jonesy slowly shook his head, the grim expression his pronouncement as he straightened back to his normal height.
Jess' throat froze in mid-swallow. That could have been him. It would have been him, if Jess hadn't released the dynamite when he did, his body turning to leap away from the blast the moment that it detonated, the power launching his frame farther than his own strength could have carried him. Jess felt his landing all over again, his sound already muted from the start, the rising heat, the increasing pain, and the crashing boulders that shook the ground underneath him. The moment that his personal light went out as Jess' consciousness faded, Jess remembered his final thought. He was meeting his Maker. But the Maker had another plan, even if Jess didn't like it. Jess finally finished his swallow, because that could have been him.
"Jess," Andy looked up at Jess' stiff frame, wondering how he could reach him. Not with sound, as speaking his name had produced nothing, but at least in his touch, there could be something.
Jess looked down when he felt a small hand slip into his, and suddenly, Jess didn't feel all that alone anymore. "Thanks." He didn't know if it was the whisper that had been intended, or if came in the same silence that enfolded him, but the shine in Andy's eyes was a clear enough response that it was received.
"Tough way to die," Jonesy shook his head, putting the death behind him.
"He had a tough way to live," Slim answered, his feet turning him in the same direction as Jonesy.
"Somehow I don't feel much better knowing that one of them isn't going to be looking over my shoulder anymore" Jonesy frowned, still moving forward with Slim beside him.
"Right now, none of them can," Slim said, looking in every direction.
"You think there's any other way out?" Jonesy lowered his voice, barely turning to look over his shoulder where Jess and Andy stood.
"I don't know," Slim turned a full circle, the light spreading out around him only able to reveal more rocks. When he stilled his feet, Slim gave a soft sigh and then lowered the flame. "The lantern doesn't have a lot of kerosene left," Slim explained when Jonesy gave him a puzzled eyebrow lift.
"That's not the only thing that we're gonna be running low on," Jonesy said, taking a short breath through his nostrils.
Slim nodded, understanding their lack of air supply, not wanting to relay the additional frightening information to Andy. He would learn about it soon enough anyway, there was no point hurrying up fear's awful process. Slim lifted the lamp upward, the darkness on the other side of the light making the cave's interior even more ominous. There wasn't any way to know if it was night or day. The sound was completely cut off around them to help decipher the hour, but at least he could still hear his own breaths, Jonesy's soft groan as he pressed both hands into his back, and Andy's quiet murmur, offering comfort through his prayers for Jess. But Jess couldn't hear it. He couldn't hear any of it.
Slim turned, his eyes latching onto Jess, his stance was strong, but there was something missing on his face. Jess would never be vulnerable, but despite his partner being the most independent man he had ever met, standing next to Andy, wearing nothing but his underwear, Jess appeared helpless, almost frail. But Slim knew that was only on the outside, unless the loss of his hearing started to cut deep into his soul. Andy already had taken his stance to not let it, and Slim needed to do the same. The other worries could wait, Jess' could not. Slim's strides took him the difference between his position and Jess, his hand rising up to squeeze into the flesh of Jess' shoulder.
"Pard," Slim said, knowing that most of what he spoke would have to be relayed through something other than his voice. Blue met blue and Slim softened his expression, the hard lines diminishing to allow the friendship to shine. "This isn't bigger than us."
Jess nodded, understanding what he could see in Slim's eyes more than what he could read on his mouth, those smarting tears burning in the corners of his eyes once more, but just as before, he wouldn't let them drop. Slim shared the same blurred vision, their eyes locked together, but it was also in their clasp, for the two hands met, the firm handshake a sealed bond that could never be torn apart.
"Here," Jonesy stepped closer and handed the whiskey to Jess, motioning with his hand to drink. "Take a swig. Just leave some for later."
"Later?" Slim gave Jonesy a sideways glance, but the older man only gave him a shrug. Slim didn't really need an explanation. He knew freedom might be a long time in coming.
"What're we going to do now?" Andy asked, looking fearfully up at Slim.
"We're going to have to try to find a way out," Slim answered, raising his eyes to the top of the massive slide and back down again. "But for certain, we're not going to get out this way."
"Then how?"
"We'll find a way," Slim answered, his voice offering more hope than what he felt. "There's no point in standing around here, though, so we might as well start searching."
"You better get dressed, Jess," Jonesy said, picking up Jess' shirt and pants from the cave's floor, taking a necessary quickened pace to catch up with Jess, who followed after Slim, his concern so far away from being clothed that he had forgotten he was close to being naked. But as Jess couldn't hear his approach, when Jonesy reached a hand to his shoulder, Jess whipped around as if he were ready to draw, aim and shoot in one easy motion, if he had been wearing a gun. "Sorry, Jess. Don't you want your clothes?"
If there ever was a blush to Jess Harper's cheeks, it was at that moment. He pulled on his pants in one easy motion, tightening the belt around his waist. The jeans had come through the explosion mostly unscathed, but his shirt was in tatters. Jess looked at the torn fabric, knowing that it was better than nothing, and he slid his fists through each armhole, but the rest could only drape over his front, leaving an ample amount of his chest and abdomen exposed. He laid a hand on his ribs and took a gentle breath, realizing the looseness of his shirt was actually a good thing, especially since they were going to be doing some walking, and potentially, a lot of it.
"Looks like the cave's a bit deeper over here where we were tied up," Slim said, holding the lantern, his eyes searching beyond the glow. "But there's still nothing wide opening up."
"What's that, Slim?" Andy asked, pointing to a darker line on the furthermost rocks.
"I don't know, Andy," Slim held out a hand so that the other's steps would be paused as Slim crawled forward. "It looks deeper than a shadow. I think…it is! Good work, Andy, this leads to a tunnel. Come on, maybe we've got our way out."
It was narrow, only enough space that they could pass through one at a time, but there was enough head room that Slim didn't have to crouch. For a lengthy amount of time that no one would attempt to count, they walked, sometimes only inching forward, other times taking regular steps, but each one became dimmer, in light and in hope, as they still hadn't found the connection to the outdoors.
"Slim," Andy started, swallowing twice before his voice turned into a cough.
"Andy, you don't have to pretend anymore," Slim said, briefly taking his eyes away from the path to look down at his brother's face. "There's no way Cross can hear us."
"I'm," Andy sneezed, rubbing his throat as he tried to prevent a cough from following but was unsuccessful, his throat rattling several times before he could continue. "I'm not pretending anymore."
"What?" Slim reached his hand out and touched his brother's forehead, the heat under his palm matching the pale color of his cheeks. He really wasn't pretending. Andy was sick.
Slim tried not to let his sigh pass through his lips with the same amount of distress that he felt, but the air rushed through his mouth in a troubled burst. He had been leading the way to hopeful freedom, but Slim could no longer take another step forward, the surmounting weight of its knowledge crashing hard onto his frame. All of it. Jess lost his hearing, Jonesy's back was about to give out, Andy really was sick and they'd just reached a dead end.
…
Janz had ridden most of the night to catch up with Cross. It was daylight now, the snow no longer mingling with the rain and there were only a few more miles before the lead horse would reach Sherman property. If Janz was going to make his play, it better be now, because he had just caught a glimpse of a suit. He put a pair of fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle, making Cross whip around in the saddle, the shocked, or maybe that was angry, expression on his face evident even at their distance apart. Janz filled his hand with his gun and urged his horse onward, his meeting with Cross far from welcomed, as Cross' hand wasn't empty either.
"Janz, you're a fool," Cross held his gun tightly, the level of his aim nearly the exact position that Janz held toward him. "I ought to trigger this gun all six times into you."
"Then I'd do the same to you," Janz sneered, his own hand unwavering, "if for no other reason than you calling me a fool. But I have a bigger one."
"A bigger reason?" Cross quickly raised both eyebrows before narrowing his eyes into a squint, "like what?"
"Like money," Janz answered, his explanation accentuated by his mouth barely separating as he spoke.
"Money?"
"You want Sherman's ranch, don't you?" Janz gave an exaggerated shrug. "What for, other than money? I figure I'm going to get more than my share."
"You're a fool," Cross watched the angry burst of color fill Janz' cheeks at the repeated insult and he knew if he wasn't holding his own gun, he'd be a dead man. "You don't know anything about the money."
"See," Janz laughed, his wicked smile blooming brighter, "I was right. There is money involved."
"But only for me," Cross pointed to his chest.
"How?" The laughter was abruptly silenced.
"If you put your gun up, then I'll tell you."
"Nothing doing," Janz answered, his teeth disappearing behind his frown. "That'll only give you reason to put some lead in me."
"I need you," Cross tapped the air with his gun. "Or I would. Believe me I would. Now, put your gun up, shut up and listen."
"All right," Janz reluctantly dropped his gun inside of his holster. "You win. But this better be worth it."
"It will be," Cross said, his eyes following the gun to leather, only then allowing his to be replaced behind his jacket. "So here it is. My uncle is three things," Cross explained, flicking one finger in the air for each descriptive word. "Old, eccentric and rich. A couple of months ago, Uncle Herb wrote his will, and it states that all of his money will go to his only living relative, me. But there's a catch. I have to be a rancher, as Uncle Herb always held onto a dream of being a rancher. Yet it can't be just any ranch, not too big, not too fancy, and located in prime cattle country. The Sherman ranch fits everything perfectly. Oh, and having an orphan boy under my wing makes for a pretty good prop, too. That's why I picked it. That's why I want it."
"But you're not a rancher," Janz rolled his eyes, as the suit wasn't the only giveaway of Cross' lack of ranch knowledge. At least Janz wore the correct attire, and he knew a thing or two about cattle, so just maybe, maybe…
"Since I can still see those wheels turning," Cross twirled a finger in the air, "I better add an important detail. No one else can take my place, because no one else is me. I wrote my uncle, and he'll be in Laramie around the first of April to tour my home and how the inheritance will make it into a booming empire. He'll be ready to sign a check when he takes a look at that dump Sherman calls a house. And then, poor old Uncle Herb is suddenly going to die from an Indian raid."
"Sounds like you've got it all planned out," Janz slowly nodded his head. "Except that you don't have the ranch."
"Yet," Cross snapped the word like he'd just broken a twig. "I will have it. And I'd be a lot closer to it if you weren't here. I take it Jonesy's still alive?"
"Well," Janz lowered his gaze to the ground as he lifted one shoulder. "He was when I left."
"Well, it can still be done, but Janz, you're being here is only helping them up there. And Janz, so help me if they've escaped, you're going to be Bull and Snake bait. And I don't have to tell you what they like to do with their victims."
"They'll still be there," Janz said overconfidently, his lips retaking on his smile. "And I'll do my job right this time. After all, don't you need a good ranch foreman for crazy old uncle to see?"
"I think that can be worked out," Cross gave a slight nod to the north. "I'll bypass the ranch for now. Let's get going."
The moment their horses were turned, a different group was setting out.
Mort kept his good hand on the reins, urging his horse forward to find once more the path that had taken the larger posse into danger, but it wasn't far into the renewed journey, when he and his two companions suddenly fell in step with a different trail. Even then, the instincts of a lawman were already in place, the imprints in the muddy soil taking him too close to the original road to be a coincidence. They were out there, so close that Mort could smell them, but it wasn't yet that he could see them. He paused when the tracks started clomping into snow, the distinguishing trail leading up to a snowcapped mountain. The destination had changed, but the goal remained the same.
…
Jess sensed Slim's discouragement, more than just the slumping of his shoulders, but by the pinched expression that he wore on his brow. The glow from the lantern in Slim's hand dimmed down to near nothingness, but it could still project far enough to show that they had reached the end of the tunnel. There was nowhere else to turn except back from where they came. Jess slowly took in a breath, the air feeling thin and stale, watching as Slim put a hand on Andy's forehead, the boy scrunching up his face as his mouth formed the sign of a ragged cough. Discouragement started knocking hard against Jess' own chest, but determination knew how to knock even harder. Jess motioned with his hand, for now it was his turn to lead.
He didn't need the lantern, using only his memory to navigate forward along the rocky wall, Jess retraced his steps through the narrow pathway. When Slim was ahead of him, the light leading the way, he had kept his focus on the beam, but now that it was behind him, Jess allowed his focus to roam, searching every crevice of the rocks, and everything became clearer, including some shifts in the darkest shadows. Because when one thing is shut off, something else tries to take its place. That was how Jess felt, as his pace increased when something in his middle urged him onward, his vision reached farther, his nose caught every whiff, and his skin felt every prickle. And suddenly Jess came to a stop. It was colder. Why? Jess sniffed, a light, wintry fragrance triggering his senses even further. Snow. It was so close, he could almost taste the iciness on his lips, but when he reached out a hand, only the hard mountainside was felt.
Jess turned, wanting to make sure he hadn't hurried too far ahead of the others, his eyes finding the same emptiness that resided in his ears. The light was gone. His hand spreading into the darkness, Jess felt for the touch of fabric or flesh, but there was none. Jess inhaled a sharp breath, knowing that if they were close, they could hear him, his breathing and his movements, but he couldn't share the same advantage.
"Jonesy? Slim? Andy?" Jess' voice, like the panic, rose with each name, but if there was any response, he would never hear it. He took a few steps, his hand remaining empty, the force of the barrenness hitting him sharply in his heart. "Dad-gum!"
He could return all the way back to the tunnel's end, or he could follow his gut. Jess slowed his breathing, the choice that he'd made before the dark discovery retaking shape inside of his core. He still smelled the snow. He still felt the cold. He still could see the lines of the rocks ahead of him. That was it. He could still see. Jess hurried forward, the shape of the rock in front of him in an odd outline, but it was gray. Everything else was black. Jess picked up a sharp rock and thrust it against the lighter color, the ice breaking on contact, the snow on its other side beginning to slide to another surface, the cold air rushing in with a small beacon of light. Jess continued to pound, the size growing with each strike, and soon it wasn't only his hands involved. They were still with him. Jess had never been lost or alone.
With a few more solid breaks, they were free. Stepping out into the open, the snowy whiteness of the higher elevation was all around them, the swirling wind bringing a chill to each body, more coughs to Andy's throat, and all sets of eyes searching high to low and left to right. They had made the first step of their escape, but they didn't know what would be their second, although the only plausible direction was somewhere down. Yet with the snow cover, there could be hidden dangers lurking with each step, and more was starting to fall from the sky. But they had to start somewhere. Slim lead the way, breaking the path for Jonesy with Andy tucked against his side, but Jess lingered behind, his soundless steps being taken in their own trail downward, perhaps more aware of the elements than any of them.
Snowfall was always silent, and as Jess watched the flakes gently falling from the sky, their landing producing the same nothingness that was in his ears. They weren't without beauty, their white, almost lacy shapes flitting from the sky. But ashes could produce the same image. And there was no beauty in ashes. What would it be like, going forward in life with only the sound of snowflakes that held the severity of ashes? Jess shook his head, not wanting to know, but then again, the snowflakes were really all the knowledge he needed. Snowfall was always silent, but its opposite never was. Rain made a soft splash or a hard pour, running into gurgling streams that fed leafy trees, blowing softly or raucously in the various velocities of the wind, their canopies home for singing birds and chattering chipmunks. These pleasant noises were now only in his memory. But where they really resided was in his heart, with courage, strength, tenacity and something yet undefined.
He had never heard the half-breeds when he had full use of his hearing, but Jess knew the remaining one's presence now as if he had heard his every approaching step, the trepidation like the roar of a waterfall in his ears. Jess turned, seeing Snake standing still, high atop a rock, but he wasn't alone. The two sinister foes were with him, and all of them were armed and dangerous, the half-breed's rifle in a deadly aim toward Slim's unsuspecting back.
Jess' mouth opened, the warning ready on his tongue.
"Slim!"
:.:.:
I was planning on writing the most requested scene in a hurry, without Jess getting hurt, only baring skin, but then in the course of sharing some back and forth PM's with WillowDryad, she made a comment saying, "make sure Jess gets lots of comfort to go with the hurt." I shrugged it off at first, but then as I started writing, I toyed with the idea of how the dynamite could have hurt Jess. Through sound. Once I wrote that first line, I couldn't turn back. So, I thank WillowDryad for creating that idea (although it did take me longer to write it since it totally threw off what I originally had in mind).
A few chapters ago, Daryl Silvers created the idea of Cross wanting the Sherman ranch, but I hadn't finalized his reasoning. I had a few possible scenarios, but was leaving it open, but it was finally Nakoosay's thoughts that clinched what was revealed in this chapter, so a big thanks goes to her for helping with that plotline.
As for Jess' shirtless scenes, Kappa Girl was the one that requested the "and more" so, I obliged, but you know, there was no need to twist my arm to provide for "more."