Hold On Mr. Larabee

Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters are the property of MGM Television, The Mirsch Corporation, Trilogy Entertainment Group and CBS. No profit has been made off of this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 9

Vin started in surprise as Chris's kick landed true. The gunslinger's labored breathing sounded harsh inside the barn, as he tried to crawl away. Chris was going to be down for the count after this and it would be up to Vin to get them all free. As the tracker looked to his right, he noticed a pitchfork resting near some hay bales, it was not the most practical weapon but it could damage a person just the same.

Ezra watched as Dick Peters toppled to the ground after receiving a stiff boot to his nether regions. Grimacing to himself; the gambler realized that Chris was in real trouble now and he was unable to help. Out of the corner of his eye he detected movement from where Vin was biding his time. Directing his attention to the tracker, he watched as Vin moved stealthily toward the direction of the hay bales. Both of the Peters were distracted with Chris Larabee and hadn't seen Vin move. "Bravo Mr. Larabee!" Ezra called from his location on the other side of the barn. "You took the bull by the horns, so to speak and made him a cow!"

Frank snorted as he rose from where he squatting by his brother, and moved over to where the gunslinger lay trembling, curled into himself, "Feeling kinda poorly there aren't ya?" Reaching down he grabbed Chris's left hand and yanked it back behind him, causing the man to scream in agony, "Hurt's don't it; well this is just the beginning."

Buck struggled at his bonds, yelling in frustration as they only seemed to rub at his already tender skin. He could see the tears of pain running down his friends face; he could hear the hitching gasps of breath. If he could get free, he'd cut Dick Peters' balls off and feed them to him as he was choking out his last breath. "Get up you sniveling little weasel! You want to take someone on, you take me on!"

Dick Peters' pried his eyes open and glared at the ladies man, "You had best hobble your lip, or I'll make you regret the day you saw sunlight." Peters growled out as he slowly rolled to his knees, taking heaving breaths to quell the nausea that threatened to send the contents of his stomach spewing all over the barn floor, he barked out. "I'm gonna gut you and feed 'em to your gambler friend, then I'm gonna stake him out on an ant hill and slather him in honey."

Buck watched in satisfaction as Dick Peters' gained his feet and staggered over to him. Beefy hands wrapped themselves around Buck's neck and Peters started to squeeze, staring at the ladies man with fire in his eyes. Buck just grinned and wheezed out, "Shame you don't have your brother watchin' your back."

Peters looked at him in confusion, "What are you blabbering about?" The ladies man just grinned at him so he squeezed harder. Buck choked for breath, stars starting to dance before his eyes.

"Hey! Not Nice!" Vin hissed behind Dick Peters, the man spun round in surprise and Vin slammed the tines of the pitchfork up and under their nemesis' rib cage, piercing his black heart. As Dick Peters reached up and wrapped both hands around the handle, Vin grabbed his gun.

"Frank! He's killed me!" the horse thief shouted out as he dropped to his knees, clutching at pitchfork, blood slowly leaking out around the wounds. He stared down at the tool sticking out of his chest in amazement. This was not how he had planned to go, no he was supposed to go down in a 'Blaze of Glory' to be written into the history books, not in some ramshackle barn out in the middle of 'God's Country.'

Frank jumped up from where he was tying up the listless gunslinger, pulling his own weapon and firing. Vin was faster, his bullet striking bone in Frank's lower leg. The man crumpled to the ground crying out in agony.

Vin cut Buck loose and handed him the gun, "Watch him!" he spit out indicating the floundering Dick Peters, "I'm gonna take care of the other one." Vin stalked over to where Frank was writhing on the ground in pain, grabbing up an extra length of rope Vin flipped the man onto his stomach; dropping a heavy knee into the small of his back he reached forward, pulled Frank's arms behind his back and secured them tightly.

Glancing down at the blood freely flowing from the gunshot wound, the tracker pulled off his neckerchief, "Waste of a good bandana if you ask me." Vin barked as he tied off the wound.

"Mr. Tanner, may I remind you that they-," looking down at Dick Peters who was starting to get a glazed look about him, "Uh, let me rephrase. Frank Peters can be hanged for horse theft. Personally I'd like to be in the front row."

Vin grinned as he stood up, "You have a mean streak in you, Ez."

"We all do when provoked, Mr. Tanner." The gambler pointed out, glancing down at the ropes still holding him to the post, "Do you think you could maybe untie me now? This is becoming quite tedious."

"Sure, Ez. Let me untie Chris and I'll be right over. How you doing over there Buck?" Vin asked as he cut away the gunslinger's bonds and gently turned him over. Chris groaned as Vin pulled his coat open to look at the wound. "You just relax, Cowboy. We'll have you back up to the house in no time."

Buck watched Vin from across the barn as he pulled the pitchfork from Dick Peters body, "Well, Vin. I believe he's deader than a can of corned beef. How's the other one?"

Looking over at Frank Peters groaning on the floor, "Oh he's hurtin' all right; crying for mercy and all that. Have to say I wouldn't mind helping to build the scaffolding for this one." Vin admitted as he dug through the bag of supplies. "I think we should take Chris up to the house where we can fix him up proper like."

"Sure, let me free Ezra and we'll be right over." Buck divested Dick Peters of all his weapons and used the knife to cut Ezra free. "Okay, Ez. Let's drag him over away from the horses and cover him with that canvas over there."

Ezra screwed his face up, "Can I not help Vin instead? I really hate dragging dead bodies around."

"Ezra, he's dead weight. It'd be easier and quicker with two of us. Just grab his foot and we'll drag him. Not like he's gonna feel anything, he's dead." Buck puffed out as he grabbed one foot and tried to pull the man across the barn.

Looking doubtfully at the ladies man, Ezra grabbed Dick Peters' foot and pulled for all he was worth. With a lot of huffing and puffing, moaning and groaning, they were able to move the body and cover it up. "Next time, I think Vin would be the better choice of brute strength, not me. I detest manual labor."