THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY SHOWBOAT
By Andamogirl
WWW
ACT FOUR
Diving into the cold, numbing winter water, Jim swam at top speed; his heart started hammering in fear. He found the breach by which he had left the cargo hold – as it was still lit by the flames running on the lower deck and went inside the sinking showboat.
He went through the large hole in the hull and spotted Artemus's silhouette. He was lying on his back on the bottom of the cargo hold, his left leg trapped under a beam.
He swam toward him, dreading to find his partner drowned. But he was relieved to see that the other man was still alive and holding his breath.
He suddenly remembered Artie giving him his artificial lung – following one of his famous intuitions, without knowing what would happen.
He pulled it out from his pocket and took a breath before placing the mask on partner's face. He repeated the operation for ten minutes while trying to free his partner from the beam firmly pining him – but eventually the air contained in the reservoir ran out.
Grabbing Jim's wrist, Artie pointed to the breach, signalling him to leave. Jim shook his head. Artemus placed a brotherly hand on the other man's cheek and shook his head again, and Jim could read 'it's too late for me, leave, save your life," in his best friend's eyes. Overwhelmed by intense pain and far too weak to stay conscious any longer, Artemus Gordon closed his eyes.
He was deeply unconscious when he both inhaled and swallowed the murky liquid. His body jerked involuntarily, thrashing, he struggled to breathe but his movements slowed down and the last bubbles of air slipped out of his lips.
He stilled and his slackened body began to float.
His throat burning, his chest constricted, Jim held his breath. He didn't panic. 'You have to save Artie! Nothing is lost! You can revive Artie with the Cardiopulmonary resuscitation technique, Artie had taught you, but first you have to free him before doing that and there is no time to lose'... He thought, trying to stay calm.
He removed the now useless artificial lung from his face, slid his hand inside his drowned partner's jacket; searched the pockets, and found the third and last golden sphere with a pin. Pulling out the fuses he kept in his collar, he quickly tied them together – making a one meter long fuse – and attached one extremity to the pin of the mini-bomb. Then he slid the explosive device under the beam, moved away prudently and pulled – the mini bomb immediately exploded, breaking the beam in a dozen pieces.
Immediately after, Jim curled his fingers into the fabric of Artie's jacket and swam back toward the large hole in the hull.
His lungs crying out for air, ready to burst from the pressure, Jim gritted his teeth as he dragged them both up to the surface. He surged upward and surfaced shortly after. Bursting into the air, he gasped, sucking in deep gulps of oxygen.
But he was the only one breathing, he suddenly recalled with dread. Keeping his arm tighter around Artie's lifeless body, he swam as fast as possible toward the gently sloping bank – hoping that it wasn't too late to save his partner, panic rising.
Once on dry land, he laid Artie's body, lifeless, cold and limp, down on the ground, then kneeling beside his drowned partner, he opened Artemus's mouth, tilted his head back, pinched his nose shut and placed his lips to those of the unconscious man. He started breathing for him, blowing air into him, anxiously watching for the rise of Artie's chest as his lungs expanded.
But there was no movement.
Jim repeated the motion a few times, drawing as much air into his own lungs as he could – but Artie wasn't breathing by his own, still. He remained motionless, his face slack and livid and his lips blue. "No, no, no!" he said through chattering teeth. "Don't do this to me! Don't die on me buddy! I can't do this alone, I need you." He pinched Artie's nose breathed into his mouth again. "Come on!"
He placed one hand over the other above his partner's sternum, interlocking his fingers, before beginning chest compressions, hard. He heard a crack but continued.
One, two, three.
He leaned back down, squashing Artie's nose shut before giving him another breath of air.
He lost track of how many times he pumped his hands against Artie' ribcage and the number of breaths he gave him, but didn't stop.
He couldn't stop. He couldn't lose the man he loved like his own brother.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity Artemus jerked and shuddered. He coughed his way to life, thrashing, his chest rising and falling with each painful, ragged breath, spluttering and vomiting water.
Jim rolled him on his side and slapped Artie's back hard as more water rushed out of his mouth. "Yes, that's it buddy! Breathe, breathe, you're safe now."
His chest heaving, Artemus opened his eyes, glazed and red and puffy and he mumbled, his throat burning, "M' cold, m' so cold and numb. Can't feel anything…"
Jim nodded. "It's probably better that way."
Artie blinked twice in confusion. "Wha-what happened? I should be dead…"
Overjoyed Jim leaned over his partner, beaming. He'd brought Artie back. Artie was alive. "You were dead for a few minutes but I brought you back to life Artie. I did it! I performed the Cardiopulmonary resuscitation technique on you and…" He cringed and added. "And I broke your ribs performing chest compressions. I'm really sorry. That beam broke your left leg; try not to move, okay?"
His whole body shivering Artie coughed up the rest of the water and rolled on his back distantly thinking that it was a good thing that his body was so numb and so cold. He couldn't feel any pain – especially the pain coming from his broken leg.
His eyes sunken and tired, his teeth chattering, Artemus let out, "It's 'kay… thank you Jim, s'ved my life. " He slurred and went limp afterward, passed out.
Tears of profound joy running down his own face Jim touched Artemus's throat, finding a pulse there. He was never happier. Then, grinning, he collapsed in relief, out of breath himself. He reached out, dragging Artie into his arms, watching as the showboat sank and the boats of the pirates moved away into the night. "You're going to be okay Artie."
He suddenly remembered that Artie had been poisoned and blanched. He stood, said, "Stay here buddy, I have to find Loveless."
But it was Loveless who found him.
Miguelito Loveless was standing at the top of the bank, arms crossed on his chest, smiling and of course escorted by four of his goons. "I'm here, don't bother. Bravo Mr. West, bravo. I didn't know that technique for bringing people back to life. It works. And the ability you have, your partner and you, to survive the most terrible ordeals continues to astound me. But, all things must come to an end… And I'll be there to be sure it happens. You'll die, by my hand, both of you. Mr. Burke?"
The giant took a step forward. "Move!" He ordered.
Kneeling, Jim slipped his arms under Artie's knees and back and lifted him up as he stood. Framed by the goons, holding Artie against him, he headed toward Loveless' carriage.
WWW
Much later in a warehouse
Dr. Miguelito Loveless, perched on a wooden box, looked down at Artemus Gordon, sprawled on a table, still passed out, and shivering, his clothes dripping.
He snapped his fingers. "Knife!" he commanded.
Burke the giant behemoth instantly pulled out a knife from his back and handed it to his boss. Loveless used it to cut Artemus's plastered shirt open.
He placed his ear against the Gordon's heart, listening. "Mmm, everything seems alright here." He commented. He noticed the bruises on Artie's chest. "Mr. Gordon has broken ribs. You broke them when you did those chest compressions, Mr. West, but they will heal nicely." Then he snapped his fingers again and a goon pushed his 'seat' toward Artie's left leg. He cut the left part off his soaked pants, opening it up, revealing a swollen and bruised leg. He examined it thoroughly and said, "It's a break of the shinbone. It's a minor fracture, not a severe one, otherwise the leg would be an odd shape and the bone would even be poking out of the skin. But it's going to be very painful though. He'll need a plaster cast. "He pivoted and looked at James West sat on a chair and solidly tied to it.
Two men were standing beside him, keeping an eye on him, ready to shoot him.
Loveless jumped to the floor and headed toward the younger agent. He stopped in front of him and said, "Mr. Gordon should walk normally in six to eight weeks at most. He'll need plenty of rest – and patience, but it's not your partner's forte, as I recall." He smiled, seeing that the other man was very surprised. "Yes, yes, yes, I'm not going to kill you – not now - I mean, because, of course it's still my intention. The two of you are thorns in my side. Do you know why I spare you, for now?"
Lifting his eyebrows, very surprised, Jim shook his head. "No, why?"
Miguelito Loveless came back beside Artie – still unconscious – climbed on the wooden box again, and pulled a small case from his pocket. He opened it and pulled out a filled syringe. He pressed the tip in the other man's neck and administrated him the antidote to the slow poison running in his veins. "There, I gave him the antidote, he's going to live," he said, placing the empty syringe and case on a box. "He's safe." Moving back toward Jim he continued, "Because I want you in tip top shape to have the pleasure of killing you in a creative way – and to have the pleasure of playing with you beforehand, like a cat with a mouse. A hunter finds no interest in pursuing a weak animal, it's spoilsport." Loveless smiled. "Then, be seeing you, Mr. West, Take good care of your injured friend there. I'm sure that you'll find a way to free yourself."
Jim nodded again. "Before you leave, I'd like to ask you what happened on the showboat. Artie and I were pretty busy in the submerged cargo hold."
Loveless made a face. "The pirates attacked us. When they saw that my men resisted and had killed a dozen of them already, they used dynamite. I lost four men and the showboat was heavily damaged. The imbeciles! Wanting to kill us all they have so damaged the ship that it sank. The gold was on board, and now it's on the bottom of the Mississippi River. That gold is lost, definitively."
Hiding a smile Jim looked falsely sorry. "I'm sooo sorry… But I'm sure that you will find another occupation soon, Doctor."
Loveless nodded. "I always have something to do, Mr. West. Be seeing you." Then he headed toward the door of the warehouse, his goons in tow.
Rotating his right wrist, Jim activated the mechanism hidden in his sleeve and a knife slid automatically into his hand. He used it to rapidly cut the ropes binding him and was at Artie's side in a couple of seconds. He took the other man's pulse: a bit elevated but within normal bounds. He touched his forehead then and found that he was running a fever again. "Okay Artie, this time I'm going to bring you to a nice hospital, and with luck, you'll have lovely nurses to take care of you."
WWW
The next morning
New Orleans general hospital
Opening the door of his partner's room, Jim froze on the spot, grinning. Two lovely nurses were sitting on the edge of Artemus Gordon's bed, and his partner was lying on top of the blanket, in his hospital pajamas. His left leg was encased in a plaster, save his foot, and elevated on three fluffy pillows.
The blond-haired one was massaging Artie's non-injured leg, from the ankle to the knee while the brunette one, was massaging his scalp and stroking him behind his ears.
His eyes closed in bliss, totally relaxed, petted like an oversized cat; Artie was letting out something resembling a purr.
Moving closer to the bed, Jim said, "I'm sorry ladies, but I need to speak to my pampered partner here, alone. Come back later, he'll still be here, I promise."
Smiling, the two nurses each gave Artie a kiss on the cheek, and left the room.
Artie shot a broad smile at his partner. "Hiya Jim. First things first, thank you very much. You saved my life, once again. I just woke up two hours ago and you weren't there."
Jim nodded and sat on a chair. He smiled. "Two hours ago? And you already have two lovely nurses all wrapped around you?"
Artie chuckled and touched his aching ribs, wincing. "Yes, no woman can resist my natural charm. So… did something happen?"
Jim shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, I wanted to be here, but I was detained first in the Wanderer sending a telegram to Colonel Richmond – I sent him an abridged report – then I was detained at the police station giving the Chief a full report this time." He lightly patted the white cast, covering Artie's left leg up to a little below the knee. Then he took Artie's hand in his and they interlaced their fingers. "I'm so happy you're here, breathing, alive… I watched you die Artie, and it was awful…" He paused, chasing the image of Artie, eyes closed, mouth opened, floating, dead, from his mind. "But I didn't lost hope of saving you. I was sure I could do it with the cardiopulmonary resuscitation technique. By the way it was a very good idea to have taught me that." Sitting on the edge of the bed he continued, "And it worked. But that was close this time, buddy, far too close for comfort. You were very lucky, Artie."
The older man nodded his face grave. "It was more than close actually, because I was dead, I drowned. I don't remember anything of my brief stay in the afterlife… only a black emptiness. You brought me back using cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Yes, I had a very good idea the day that I taught you that new technique of bringing people back to life. And luck has nothing to do with all that, Jim. You – and only you – saved my life, Jim. I owe you my life, once again." He cupped the back of Jim's head and pulled him in, touching their foreheads together. "Thank you again, brother." He pulled back a few seconds later and moved his hand to the other man's shoulder, pressing it warmly.
Overwhelmed by emotion, tears were rolling down his cheeks.
Pressing Artie's shoulder in return, his eyes wet, Jim said, "Don't you ever ask me to leave you behind again, Artie. I'm not going to do it. That's final. He pulled Artie into an embrace and held him there. "If I have to make the choice between dying with you and living without you, I'll stay at your side, till the end, always, and without hesitation. So don't you ever tell me to leave you, because I can't and I won't. I will never leave you Artemus Gordon. Not ever." He parted and added, "No matter what. Do you understand?"
New tears rolled streamed down Artemus's cheeks. "Yes I do." This time it was Artie's turn to pull Jim into an embrace. "Thank you."
Parting from the other man, Jim smiled. "And if I have to, I will keep saying it until it finally penetrates that god-damned thick skull of yours!"
Artie laughed softly and immediately grimaced with pain. "Ow! Ow!" He wiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hand. "You know… I don't know what happened after I lost consciousness on that bank, could you fill me in please?"
Jim nodded. "Loveless brought me – and you to a warehouse close to the port. He administrated you the antidote, said 'be seeing you' and left. He didn't kill us because we weren't in tip top shape and he couldn't play with us first, like a cat with a mouse. But next time, he will. Then I brought you here to the hospital."
Pulling himself into a sitting position, Artie asked. "What happened on the showboat?" and grimaced when Jim placed a pillow beneath his injured leg. "Thanks. The doctor gave me strong drugs for the pain but the effects have started to wear off."
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jim said, "Dr. Loveless and the pirates wanted the same thing: the confederate gold. The pirates used dynamite to get rid of Loveless men but they didn't realize that it would cause havoc. The boat sank to the bottom of the Mississippi and the gold is lost. After that fiasco, Loveless escaped and the pirates disappeared."
Pouring himself a glass of water, Artie nodded, and then he looked at his glass and then at the carafe sat on the bedside table, lost in his thoughts. He finally came back down on Earth a couple of minutes later and asked his partner, "If you had some water to hide Jim, let's say the content of a glass of water, where would you hide it? The only safe place?"
Smiling Jim took the half-empty carafe. "In water. Why?"
Tbc.