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"So, we are going to stay our here all night looking for your deputy instead of finding our bearings, filing the murder report; and getting a few winks?" Mathias eyed the old cowboy, the glint of the setting sun burned fire red on his seasoned shotgun. Walt looked earnestly at the man in front of him before ripping into him.
"You are some lawman, what kind of a man stops searching for a injured deputy, because he is too tired?" Walt stared Mathias down until he bowed his head in defeat, whatever Walt had planned he wanted to help, maybe they weren't best friends, but he respected him.
"Alright, that's fair, but I don't have the slightest idea where we should start, maybe we could keep looking for tracks, boot prints, blood, the typical crime scene tells." Walt nodded in agreement before turning to climb into his Bronco. He stepped out a few seconds later with a flashlight and two flares. Mathias wasn't sure what his companion was doing, but he dare not question him. Mathias could tell that Walt was worried, they had searched for at least an hour and a half for anything that might lead them to Moretti, but their efforts weren't turning up much.
"How about we go North, further in, it seems like Malachi would want me to stick my head where it doesn't belong. A lot of reservation locals don't like the idea of a white sheriff over-staying his welcome." Mathias looked at Walt with a mildly sarcastic expression.
"Heck Walt, I don't even want you here, but if you have a suspicion that Malachi would pull a stunt like that, then I think we had better take a look." Mathias turned back to his deputy who was leaning lazily against his car. "You get back to the station don't say a word to anyone. If they ask just tell them I was out on a domestic disturbance." The sleepy deputy nodded in agreement and left in a frenzied cloud of Wyoming dust. Mathias opened his trunk up and grabbed two Kevlar vests for him and his "partner." The fact that he and Walt were even getting along said a lot about Walt's focus, he was concerned about Vic.
"Mathias, I know that you probably want point on this but …" before Walt could even finish Mathias was waving his hand in the air, as he slowly shook his head.
"No, you have point, I am not in the mood to get shot first anyway." Mathias grinned at Walt and stepped next to him as they both prepped for the unavoidably long night ahead. They walked for at least 15 miles before they came to a ridge. Walt was cautious with the flashlight because he didn't want them to be spotted way out here with such little cover. When they came to the ridge Walt glanced over, there was a small shack, probably 100 feet out. "Walt?" Mathias was to his right, firearm at the ready, "do you have any idea what Vic was doing out here in the first place?" His question hung in the air for a few seconds, then Walt felt obliged to respond.
"She was doing something for me, I didn't think she would end up getting shot and drug way out here to some hole in the middle of nowhere." Walt's face was weary with guilt, and Mathias was well aware of the fact that Vic meant more to him than he was willing to admit. "I know this is the place, I just feel like Malachi would gladly hold up in a place like this hoping I'd come along and try and be the hero. He is right," Mathias shook his head in irritation at the old lawman's words.
"Listen Walt, even if Vic is in there, we can't be sure its not a trap. Our best bet is to think up a plan of attack, something that won't get us killed, because we are no good to Vic dead." Walt smiled at Mathias and nodded his head, he was right; even though Walt just wanted to break the door in.
"Did you know that today is my birthday, my birthday, and I am out here hoping that Vic isn't dead because of me." Walt shook his head and breathed deep as he tried to compose himself, it didn't work and he felt his eyes burn with unwelcome tears. "Don't let this make you think less of me Mathias, but I have to be honest with you, or else I might lose my mind." The small and confused lawman looked up with a surprised look on his face.
"What is it Walt, I am sure you have a good reason for showing such concern for Vic, but what do you want to get off of your chest?" Mathias really hoped he wasn't pushing him too hard to tell the truth, but the silence was enough to make anyone feel awkward.
"Vic is pregnant, it is part of the reason I was so set on finding her as soon as possible, if she is in bad shape it can't be good for the baby." Mathias' eyes grew wide and his expression was enough to sober the emotional man looking back at him. "Oh, not my baby! She told me last night, there is no way I am the father." Walt's reassurance seem to calm Mathias down as he looked absolutely petrified at the confession.
"Do you know how far along she is? I mean when the baby is due?" Mathias entertained the idea of Vic Moretti waddling around with a big belly. This did make the situation all the more serious though, it wasn't just Vic who was in danger, but now a baby … hopefully a baby who was still alive.
"I am not sure exactly, but I have got to find her tonight Mathias, and if you wouldn't mind some discretion I would greatly appreciate it." Walt looked at Mathias waiting for some kind of reassurance as to his loyalties. Mathias simply nodded his head and reached to shake Walt's hand.
"I won't say anything about what is going to happen here, you have my word." As they both agreed to work together, a man walked out of the shack like structure with a garment in one hand and what looked like a can of gasoline in the other. The stranger set the can down and held the beige garment out in front of him. Chills swept up Walt's spine as the air around him seem to vanish, the man dropped Vic's uniform on the ground before pouring a ridiculous amount of gasoline on it. He lit a match and dropped it on top of the blood stained shirt. The flames quickly devoured it and Walt's heart raced, was she even still alive? He had to believe she was, she had to be.
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There was a harsh smell in the air that burned her nostrils, Vic's eyes fluttered open. She was right side up again and sitting directly in front of a small door. There was an intense throbbing shuddering through here right thigh, she had fallen hard and the floor was little more than a thick cement slab. She tried to adjust her eyes to the dimly lit room once again. Horror soon found her as she realized Henry was gone. She felt her stomach tangle into a web of despair. Then the strong metallic smell hit her once again, "gasoline!"
"Help!" Vic began to rock violently back and forth, the chair she was in finally fell with enough force to snap one of the legs off. She squirmed to get free from her restraints and was swiftly met with such an intense pain that her breath caught in her throat. Tears filled her eyes and began to blur her vision, her shoulder was wrecked with a stabbing pain and she cringed at the burning wound. Her determination brought her through the haze she was in, then she managed to get her left arm free. She sat up and began to work on the nots with everything she had. She was not giving up, no way!
"I fell in to the burning ring of fire, I fell down, down, down, and the flames got higher." Vic stopped dead in her tracks, the low muffled voice came from just outside of the shack, and then the sloshing of gasoline with its all too familiar stench followed. "And it burned, burned, burned, that ring of fire, the ring of fire." Her heart began to race as she truly came to grips with what was about to happen, Henry had been taken by Malachi, and she had been left to burn alive, unless Walt managed to find her in time. Or she managed to get out of the box-like death trap. Whoever was outside wasn't going to be there much longer, one of Malachi's men no doubt, she squeezed her eyes shut and quickly broke her right thumb.
"Mmmm!" She bit her lip as the hand quickly slid out and she clutched her wrist blinking back tears. Hands free she worked on her restraints, then the smoke started rolling in and she saw the faint glow of firelight creeping through the small cracks in the walls of the shack. As she stood her head flooded with a dizziness that set her spinning. She flung her arms out in front of her in hopes to catch herself, it worked, but not without consequence. Her right arm cracked as she landed heavily on the cold floor of her prison. "Ahhhh," Her shouts of pain only intensified the heart stopping headache that shot through her brain like a bullet. Through all of the intense torture she had a sobering thought, she was still alive … she could feel that; man could she feel that. Breathing deeply Vic realized that her adrenaline had kicked in and the pain was dulled for now. With blurry vision she slowly stood, and quickly wiped her bloodshot eyes with the back of her hand. The smoke creeped in and began to choke her. She coughed as her body shook and she was forced to get low, only able to use one arm she hobbled toward the door. It must have been locked from the outside, she couldn't open it. Searching frantically for another way out she saw a small splintered portion of the back wall and bolted for it. The heat of the fire intensified and she felt it lick her face as she came upon the small hole. Her legs still worked, so she turned on her back and began kicking the wall with as much force as she could muster, which wasn't much. Vic knew one thing for sure, this was her last chance. As she kicked at the wall muffled voices stung her ears from just outside the shack, she paused to try and hear what was happening.
"Come on, come on!" Vic's heart leapt at Walt's voice, he was just outside! Her tired and broken body just stopped working as she lay there looking up at the ceiling. All she had left was a faint, "Walt," and then her eyelids shut with ease.
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"Mathias we have get in there now!" Walt was frantic as the two men tried to find a way through the flames shooting up the side of the shack. Mathias pulled his gun and shot the latched door in front of them before kicking it in. Walt practically flew in as the black smoke bellowed out and marred the early evening sky.
"Walt wait!" Mathias rushed in after him, heart in his throat as Walt turned around with a seemingly lifeless Vic in his arms. "Oh no, is she dead!?" Walt rushed past him and out into the crisp night air, his heart was pounding like a drum and his eyes were wet with tears, not from the smoke, Walt was panicked. He knelt down slowly, and Mathias took off his coat and placed in under Vic's head. Both men looked at one another, an expression of dread on each of their faces. "I'll call 911, we will have medics out here asap" Mathias announced. He tried to assure the old sheriff but Walt just starred at Vic, he had to try something. He pressed his massive fingers to Vic's neck and waited, he felt a pulse … a very faint one. He held his ear right next to her mouth and soon realized she wasn't breathing.
"I am going to try and get her breathing, she isn't breathing!" Walt's hands shook violently as he grabbed her chin and nose, then he pressed his lips against hers and forced air into her lungs. He did it again and again doing small compressions between each breath. What if the smoke had done too much damage? "Vic, stay with me Vic!" Walt was overwhelmed and his arms began to grow weak, still, he kept going. "Breathe! Breathe!" He started compressing with more force, against his own will, but he was glad he did. First it was quite, then Vic started gasping and coughing all on her own. Walt's face flushed with heat as he lifted her up into his arms lightly smacking her back to encourage her to breathe. "I, I thought I was going to lose you there." They both sat in the dust, as Mathias talked on the phone with the first responders who were on their way, he glanced down at them, finally able to catch his breath. Vic's frame shook violently and her low sobs began to grow louder. Walt let her go and looked at her, she was beat up pretty good, the left side of her face was swollen and a fair amount of dried blood covered her forehead and left cheek. "What did he do to you? I'm going to kill him, he is going to hurt for this." He starred at her, so thankful she was okay, that he wasn't too late.
"Walt," she stuttered, trying to get the words out. "He has Henry, Mm, Malachi has Henry." Walt wasn't sure if he heard her right, then she said his name again, this was far from over. "Don't go after him, please, he is going to kill you … he, he said that he would kill you." He held Vic close and re-assured her he wouldn't, not right now … but he knew Henry didn't have long either. His gut turned with rage, Malachi Strange was going to get what was coming to him, and Walt was going to make sure of it. "I'm sorry, I should have tried to stop him" Vic mumbled … "I'm sorry" Walt looked at her and shook his head.
"It's okay Vic, you're okay, shhh, it's okay." His broad arms swallowed her as they rocked back and forth on the dusty ground. He slowly kissed her forehead and lightly stroked her hair as light tears formed in his eyes, he was going to end this feud, or he was going to die trying.