Discoveries
The next morning two men rode out to Larabee's cabin. Early, but not early enough it seemed.
"He's not here."
"I see that, Buck. Shoulda come yesterday."
"Yes you should."
"He wouldn't have listened."
"I know, but you would've tried. He'd respect that."
"Maybe. So now what?"
"We follow? He won't like that."
"Tough- what he likes or doesn't ain't the problem. He can't just take off again like this, not after…Jericho. "
By late afternoon they had worked out that Larabee was headed towards his old property. A place neither of them relished returning to. For Buck, like Chris, it held mixed memories – the best and worst. For Vin, it meant that his bitter words to Chris had sent him where he could wallow in deep despair. As they reached the top of the rise, the skies had darkened and promised rain.
Tears for the beloved.
Buck pulled his horse up for a moment. "Used to love coming here," he said softly. "It was almost like coming home. But, I know what's beyond that rise now and I don't like it any more. I can't stand seeing what's left and...Chris…"
Vin didn't say a word as the rain began to fall. One way or another either Chris would be there, or he wouldn't. He nudged Peso forward and led on.
Chris wasn't there now, but he had been. There were wild flowers on Sarah's grave marker and a carved horse for Adam. They searched the area, just in case. Neither of them voicing the dark thoughts that if Chris was going to end it he'd be right by his family and not hidden away somewhere.
Wet and defeated, Vin sat awkwardly on a tired horse. His head and face hurt and he'd rather be anywhere than where he was. He cursed the heavy rain for washing out the tracks. Now he had no hope of telling where he'd gone. And he wondered if Chris was ever going to come back, if he'd have the chance to say he was sorry. That he wished his words back with all his heart. It wasn't as if he and Chris hadn't had an angry word or two before. But this had been different and Vin hated to see the effect his cruel words had on the gunslinger, when he was still feeling so low.
But Larabee had carried on, not turning back. As the rain pelted down Vin knew they were too late by several hours, the tracks were going and Chris was gone. He was wet and tired and he wished he could say sorry. Vin turned to Buck, "We can head for Eagle Bend and shelter or carry on the other way and camp out?"
Buck shrugged; he always preferred a warm bed and besides Chris could be there, creating hell in the saloon.
They headed for Eagle Bend, another place with bad associations. A place where they might be unwelcome and who knew what it could do to Chris.
Chris found himself travelling again, beyond Eagle Bend, in some small one horse town looking for somewhere to be out of the rain he could see was headed his way. It was while he was in what passed for the saloon, hoping some whiskey would make him feel better, than he heard the name Quince.
He stood at the bar and tried to look like he wasn't listening. Seemed some lady had choked over a bone in the boarding house and keeled over just yesterday. But the men were talking about who she'd been seen talking to before that. Chris was tired and his gut ached badly, but hearing Mrs. Quince's name and the fact that she had been seen talking to some gun for hire made him nervous. Over the noise he caught another name- Tanner and directions to head out west and he had been asking about the peace keepers there.
There went the plan to stay the night in the town and in a soft bed. He had to return home. He tried to see who was talking but a fight broke out and it was some moments before he could get out of the way.
Chris left the saloon and interrogated the undertaker, checking that the woman buried was the one he thought it might be. It was Mrs Quince, though he lied, saying he didn't recognise her after all. There was no telegraph office in this small community. Nothing to be done but to ride back home and warn his friends and keep an eye out for this man. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, stuck his black hat back on and rode out into the damp air.
He trailed a likely suspect into the evening gloom, but when he caught up with him he turned out to be an innocent traveller. Cursing his mistake he pressed on.
As dusk fell he had to get off Pony and rest from sitting up in the saddle for so long. He hung onto Pony's bit as he fed him an apple, his side aching and he felt hot, his head swimming even though the air was still cold and damp from the rain. He staggered over to a scrub of bushes and boulders, Pony obediently trailing after him. He made a small fire with dried grass and some wood that he kept in a watertight bag. Chris picketed Pony and wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bedroll for the night. Something was wrong, he just didn't know what.
Little did he know his quarry was now stalking him, watching and waiting.
He couldn't stop, he had to get back to town but he felt bad. He drank some water and struggled to keep it inside him. He wondered what the hell was wrong with him.
His grip on reality was disjointed and strange. It felt like the warden was there beating him, taunting him and he could hear the sound of the rattler in the hole with him. He was hot and sweaty, feeling nauseous and he staggered over to a bush, panting with effort as he splattered the ground with his whiskey and lunch.
At the last second he registered someone behind him, he felt his gun being removed and tried to reach for the hand. He got a crack on the head for that and dimly felt his hands being tied behind him and as he vainly struggled on the ground, his ankles tied as well.
"Mr Larabee, unless I'm mistaken." His attacker said. No one he recognised.
"Untie me an' find out!" spat Chris, blood running down his face and into one eye. A boot pressed onto his back pushed him hard into the ground and he yelled and cursed, wriggling trying to trip the man. The boot on his back lifted only to nudge him hard in the ribs and he choked and dry heaved.
"Hey, I need you to stay alive long enough to get me what I need. Ain't got anything against you as such, it's just a job. I get paid at the end of it. Now people round these parts say you know Tanner pretty well. Fact is I'm surprised he ain't with you right now. But still- you can tell me where he is." his captor said calmly as he dragged Chris away.
"Never!"
"Oh I think so. I think he may be on his way lookin' for you right now."
"No!"
"I got friends all over and I hear he's headed this way with another old friend of yours. With your help I can capture him and take him back to Texas. You can watch him hang and then it's your turn to die. You're just an extra bonus."
"Mrs Quince pay you to do this?" Chris growled, trying not to think of Vin and Buck getting killed because of him. He didn't think he could stand that. Not Buck, his last link to his old life- he might just as well be dead if that happened. And Vin was innocent.
"A businessman never tells." was the smug reply.
"She's dead -you won't get your money."
"You think so? I get all the Tanner reward and I'm sure I can get something for killing you Mr Larabee. Plenty of people lookin' for a piece of you. Wilmington I don't know about but you never know. I hear he was a lawman once….musta made a few people mad."
Chris hated feeling helpless again. This was too much like Jericho again. He made up his mind.
"Take me and leave Tanner and Buck out of this, Mrs Quince really wanted me. I killed her son and the Warden and ruined the scam they had going at the prison."
"That maybe but I like my plan better. He's a wanted man, I get the money and watch you while they're doing it. Besides I hear you were all involved in what happened to her son."
"Go to hell," spat Chris, which earned him another kick to his side.
"I'm sure you' will when I'm done with you. We got to wait a little while I reckon." He gagged Chris so he didn't have to listen to him. Chris lay for a while trying to get free until he felt so bad and passed out.
Chill air, damp earth beneath him and something else roused him, he tried to roll over wondering why his hands and feet were tied. Chris stilled, he head pounding as he remembered, he managed to open one eye the other was glued shut.
The bounty hunter heard him moving and told him to keep quiet, he could hear the sound of a horse coming through the still dawn air. Chris knew it was Vin, though he couldn't say how he knew. He blinked hard and tried to wake up a bit more to see what was going to happen next. It was more than he deserved if it was Vin after the fight they'd had.
As he lay there shivering he realised that his gun and holster, duster and hat were all gone. Damn, but he must really have been out of it for that to happen. Boots appeared and the hunter knelt down and a gun was pressed hard to his temple. The hunter pulled him so he sat up.
"Call to him Larabee. Nothing fancy or I can make him think you shot yourself in front of him." Chris gulped and thought quickly. He nodded. The filthy gag was removed; he coughed and spat bits out.
In the slowly brightening dawn he just about saw Vin on Peso, head down and to one side looking at Chris's own tracks from last night.
"Call 'im "growled the hunter, grinding the gun into his head.
"Vinny! Glad to see you!" Chris called as loud as he could.
Vin's head jerked up at that. The hunter hurriedly stuffed the rag back into Chris's mouth, gagged him and hit him hard over the head again and dragged him into the bushes. As Chris fought the darkness he heard Vin call his name "Chris?"
He tried to shout but the gag was choking him and the last thing he heard was a gunshot.