Bart was fast asleep when Bret entered the room, and he wished that his brother was awake; the last thing he wanted to do was disturb him when he needed the rest so badly...for Mundy to escape prison now was the worst timing possible.

To give Bart a few minutes more to rest, Bret quickly packed their saddlebags first before going over to his brother's bed and sitting on it. "Bart?" he said, gently squeezing his good arm.

Bart didn't answer.

Bret sighed and tried again. "Bart?"

This time, his brother's eyebrows furrowed and he moved his head slightly. "Hmm?" he mumbled.

"We have to go," Bret said.

"Huh?" Bart mumbled, wincing.

Bret sighed, wishing his brother would wake up faster. "Mundy escaped, Bart. I gotta get you out of town pronto."

Bart opened his eyes. "What?" he said.

"Up and at 'em," Bret said, sliding an arm under his brother and sitting him up.

Bart moaned from the abrupt change in altitude and his head lolled forward.

Bret winced himself; he hadn't meant to make Bart dizzy. He tightened his grip on him and halted: rushing wasn't going to do them any good if his brother passed out. "I'm sorry, Bart...I'm trying to get you out of here before Mundy finds us." If he hasn't already, Bret thought.

Bart's eyes were closed and he was breathing fast. He knew that Bret was right that they had to hurry, so he opened his eyes and slowly raised his head. "Clothes?" he said.

"Coming right up," said Bret, letting go of him slowly to make sure Bart wouldn't collapse back down to the bed.

Bart remained sitting up, looking tired and pale, and Bret quickly grabbed his brother's trail clothes, getting his red shirt on him as gently as he could.

Bart was in obvious pain, but made no complaint. He simply sat there and let his brother manhandle him, knowing that he'd only get in the way if he tried to do anything for himself...not that there was much that he could do with only one arm anyway.

Finally, Bart was dressed, and Bret carefully adjusted the shoulder on his brother's buckskin jacket so it wouldn't cause him additional pain. He looped the sling around his brother's neck and gently settled his right arm in it, before carefully pulling Bart upright and waiting in case he got dizzy again.

Bart did, but didn't say anything. He simply took a step when the worst of it wore off.

Bret grabbed their saddlebags and threw them over one shoulder, keeping a strong grip around his brother as they started for the door. As they left the room and headed for the stairs, Bret realized that he'd been so concerned with getting Bart out of the hotel that he hadn't thought of the horses in the livery stable. He should've headed over there first and they'd be saddled and ready by now.

Bret stopped his brother at the steps and sat him down at the top. "Stay here," he said, gently leaning him against the wall and placing a gun in his left hand.

"Okay," Bart said, not questioning him.

Bret studied him for a moment. He could see the strain in his brother's face, of how hard he was trying to hide his pain. "Not gonna pass out, are you?"

Bart smiled slightly. "Not yet."

Bret returned the smile, not letting his brother see his worry. "Make sure, or you'll roll down the stairs. I'll only be gone for a minute."

"Okay," Bart repeated.

Bret put the saddlebags beside his brother and headed down most of the stairs, peeking around the wall but not spotting the clerk. He sighed and looked back up the stairs at his brother, who gave him a little wave. Bret held up one finger before looking around to make sure that Mundy wasn't in sight before going back down the stairs and heading for the front desk. Just as he reached it, the clerk came around the corner and they nearly bumped into each other. Bret grabbed him and ran around the desk, pulling him down to crouch on the floor so no one could see them. "You gotta do me a favor," he whispered.

"Sure, Mr. Maverick," the clerk said, surprised.

"Go to the livery stable and have them saddle my horse and my brother's...I gotta get Bart outta town before Mundy finds us."

The clerk nodded.

"Have the horses brought to the kitchen door," Bret told him.

"Will do," said the clerk.

Bret smiled. "Thanks." He watched the clerk leave, and after peeking around the counter, dashed out and ran back up the steps, finding Bart as he'd left him, eyes thankfully open. "We gotta get to the kitchen; our horses will be out back." He pulled his brother up and turned him around, heading for the back staircase instead that lead to the kitchen.

They went down the stairs and waited a few minutes before going in. They ignored everyone as they headed for the back door, and Bret peeked out, not seeing the horses yet. Bret sat Bart on a crate and kept the door open slightly so he could see when the horses arrived, and a few minutes later, they did, with the hotel clerk leading them.

"Thanks," Bret said, coming out and throwing the saddlebags over the horses first, before going back inside for Bart.

The clerk nodded, watching as Bret helped his brother out the door and practically propelled him onto his horse. "You two be careful, now."

"We will," Bret said, mounting his own and looking at his brother to make sure he was all right. "Thanks again."

Bart wasn't sitting up very straight, but he had hold of his horse's reins in his left hand and steered it to follow Bret.

Bret waited until his brother was beside him, and he turned his horse north, staying behind the buildings. "You all right?" he said.

Bart was still breathing fast in response to the pain, which was increasing with every movement. He simply nodded.

Bret sighed. His brother was anything but 'all right', and he knew that this unexpected trip was going to make him worse.

Getting out of town wasn't hard, and they quietly rode, staying behind the shops. Bret was very aware of Bart's heavy breathing, and he wished that their enemy hadn't succeeded in his escape attempt. He was glad at least that it wasn't the middle of summer, or he knew that Bart would never make it far.

They rode for a while in silence, with Bret constantly looking behind them. Eventually, they passed the last building at the edge of town and were out in the open, and Bret knew that Mundy would have no trouble spotting them if he looked in their direction. "I really hate to ask you this," he said to Bart. "But how fast can you go?"

They both knew the answer to that, but pain was a lot better than death. "Lead on," Bart bravely said.

Bret nodded and kicked his horse into a gallop. Bart did too, and nearly fell off his horse from the resulting pain. Somehow, he managed to stay on it and keep pace beside his brother as they rode.

Bret tried to keep the pace slow for a gallop, knowing the pain of a gunshot wound. A glance at his brother showed him that Bart had paled at least five shades, and he knew that he would not be able to do this for long. It looked like there was a crop of trees a mile or two up ahead, and once they passed them, Bret knew that they could stop without Mundy being able to see them.

Bart saw the trees too and forced himself to focus on them, instead of letting himself pass out, which was what he really wanted to do. The two miles seemed to take forever to travel, and suddenly, the trees were behind them. How Bart had managed to stay on the horse was beyond him, and he suddenly felt his brother take hold of his good arm. He opened his eyes, not realizing that he'd closed them.

"Are you all right?" Bret asked.

Bart's right shoulder was throbbing mercilessly and the pain was shooting down his arm and sideways into his chest. He tried not to groan and gave his brother a weak grin instead, but it looked more like a grimace. "Oh, sure," he gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Just...dandy."

Bret sighed. He could see sweat glistening on his brother's face despite the fact that it wasn't very hot. Bart was holding the reins in a death grip with his left hand, and since he was unable to move his right arm, Bret took a handkerchief out of his pocket and reached over, wiping the sweat from his brother's face.

Bart closed his eyes, and heaved a sigh when Bret finished. "Thanks," he said, gratefully, trying to keep himself upright.

Bret nodded and put the handkerchief back into his pocket, glancing through the trees to make sure Mundy wasn't headed in their direction. "Can you go on?" he asked.

Bart sighed again and reopened his eyes. Under normal circumstances, the answer would be no. "Slowly," he said.

Bret nodded again. "Tell me when you need to stop." Not if, but when.

Bart nodded too. "One way or another, you'll know."

Bret knew what that meant; either Bart would say something, or he'd fall off his horse. "Well…it better be one way and not another." The last thing Bart needed was to hurt himself worse.

Bret sighed. This was not going to be a good day.

TBC