Chapter 7

Having followed the tracks until it was just too dark to see, Teaspoon, Kid and Jimmy had finally relented and made camp for the night. After a quick meal of jerky and biscuit, washed down with coffee, it was a sombre gathering around their campfire and Jimmy couldn't believe it had only been the previous night he'd been sat at a similar fire with Buck. It was also difficult for him to accept he had let Brody get the slip on him that easily. Saying that, Buck had been unaware of the bounty hunter's presence also, which said much about the man's ability.

Teaspoon looked at the young, would be gunslinger and knew he was blaming himself, in some part, for Buck's capture. It was evident in the scowling expression and petulant mood. He'd seen the look before, after Jimmy shot Jed, Kid's brother and when he'd had to shoot his old friend, Brad. Jimmy Hickok had lived through too many day's of self inflicted guilt in his young life and didn't need to add more to his list.

Kid was equally reticent. He too had seen much in his life but his path had take a positive turn now he was married to Lou. Teaspoon had hoped they were all heading for a more settled time, aside from the war, and now this had to go and happen. It galled him further that it was Buck in trouble, as he'd been the one who'd had the roughest of times, from the violent circumstance of his birth, rejection of his own people, through to the loss of his one true friend. The boy really didn't need any more misfortune in his life and Teaspoon was determined to do his damnedest to prevent anything more happening to him. But first, they had to find him.

"Reckon I'll turn in," Kid said, beginning to unfurl his bedroll.

Jimmy grunted a response and grabbed his own bedroll. Teaspoon sat staring into the fire for a few moments longer, drinking the last few drops of his coffee, wishing he had something a bit stronger to add to it.

"We're gonna find him," Kid said quietly, with some positivity, from beneath his blanket.

"Yeah," Jimmy mumbled but there was a lack of certainty in his tone.

"Damn!" Teaspoon muttered quietly to himself before he too settled down for the night.

Once again Buck found himself awake, as the searing pains in his body protested further against the restrictions of his bound state. Throughout the night he had endured fitful rest, which could not rightfully be described as sleep. As soon as his body relaxed the bindings tightened, pulling at his limbs, never allowing him to slip into blissful unconsciousness.

If it wasn't the pains in his own body, which awoke him, it was the cold seeping into his bones, chilling him to the core. His jacket was thin and offered little in the way of protection against the damp, coldness of the night.

This time when he awoke, the dry, scratchy roughness in his throat was even more prevalent, the gag sucking every last drop of moisture from his mouth. The throbbing in his head pounded harder than ever but instead of the inky darkness of the night, there was the soft light of a new dawn. The appetising smell of cooked bacon wafted through the air, filling his nostrils, reminding him of the emptiness of his stomach.

He was alerted by the sound of the crunch of the stony ground under heavy boot. As he lifted his gaze, a pair of scuffed, worn boots came into view. The one boot rose off the ground and was placed under his chin, pushing his head back, so he looked up at the bounty hunter's frowning face. Brody regarded him wordlessly, appraising his condition. With a sharp sniff, he nodded to himself, as if answering his own question before letting Buck's head drop back to the ground.

Snagging a hunting knife from his belt, Brody moved to squat down behind Buck. He tensed in anticipation but was grateful when he felt the bounty hunter slice through the bindings, freeing his legs, but left his hands bound.

Buck let out a muffled gasp as he was released, clenching his teeth against the gag in his mouth. His body rebelled against the sudden liberation from its contorted position, blood desperately pumping it way to the extremities, from which it had been denied for so long, muscles trying to loosen from the strain they had endured. Slowly Buck managed to unfurl his body, little by little until he managed to almost straighten it out to his full length.

Brody had moved back to the fire, to get his breakfast of bacon and biscuits. He stood, forking the food in his mouth with a bemused smile, as he watched his captive's struggles. He had been a little concerned when he'd checked him earlier. He'd never brought in anyone so quiet and less complaining before and he had worried that he might have suffocated during the night. He had been very relieved to see the Indian's eyes open. Neville would not pay out for a corpse – he wanted this boy alive. That was part of the deal. It was at least two more days ride to Omaha and if he was going to get the boy there in one piece he'd have to let up on him a little he decided, as Neville wanted him lucid.

There was definitely some feeling coming back to his legs, Buck thought gratefully. His hands however where another matter and he wondered if he'd ever be able to feel anything again in his fingers. He knew they were there but they felt like muffled weights at the end of his arms and he was only able to make the smallest of movements with them. He was only too aware of the stinging sensation in his wrists however, where the bindings had cut his skin and the slick wetness of his own blood as it dried and stiffened on his skin.

Brody came over, squatted down and snagged the gag from his mouth. Buck took an appreciative deep breath and turned dark, eyes to his captor. A tin plate was put on the floor before him and Brody sloshed some water from a canteen into it and pushed it closer to Buck's head.

"We got a ways to go so you'll need it," Brody told him flatly before putting the stopper back in the canteen and going to pack up his things.

Buck regarded the plate despairingly. He knew if he was going to survive this day he would need to drink, no matter how demeaning the manner. It was the memories it stirred within him with which he found so hard to deal. His mind slipped back to those days, back in the Kiowa village and the times he'd had to eat apart from the others. There was one time in particular he remembered.

Little Horse had been a strong, well-built boy from an early age. His family obviously highly disapproved of the fact that a half-breed boy had been allowed to live amongst the Kiowa and showed their disdain quite openly. Little Horse had been slyer in his approach but at every given opportunity had tried to make Buck's life a misery, who he regarded as the lowliest of the low. The boy had taken great delight in treating him literally like a dog, shouting commands, giving him a sharp kick, tying a rope about him and pulling him along, making his friends laugh at his antics. If he was ever seen, they passed it off as a game but it was no game to Buck. The humiliation reached its height one afternoon. As was normal, Buck had taken his food to one side when others had finished eating. He had been surrounded by a group of boys who had pushed his head down, forcibly made him eat from a platter on the floor and drink water from a bowl. When his brother, Red Bear, had come upon the scene the boys merely said they were playing at being dogs and he had accepted their explanation. Buck had seen the shame in his brother's eyes and knew he had chosen not to see what was truly going on. It was at that moment Buck knew he had no future with the Kiowa.

But that was in the past and his brother was long gone from his life. He had chosen to stay in the white world, with his Pony Express family and with Ike. Now Ike was gone too and the torment he felt for allowing his adopted brother to die had torn at him and now he was suffering the consequences. He had let Ike down once but wasn't prepared to let it happen again. He owed it to him to fight back and stay alive.

Buck wriggled onto his front and lowered his head to the plate and tipping it slightly towards him, he sucked up the water. The cool liquid felt good in his dry throat but didn't fully quench his thirst but only intensify his need for more but could not bring himself to beg. He would have to satisfy himself with what he had been provided and hope that he would be given more at some point during the day.

As Brody packed the last of his belongings onto his horse Buck struggled into a kneeling position, not wanting to show weakness before this man. He knew his defiance may bring reprisal but he'd rather challenge Brody's authority than give into his malevolence. The activity left Buck exhausted and by the time Brody got to him he was rolled forward over his knees, panting for breath.

"You're tougher than you look, I'll give you that," Brody commented dryly, as he bent to pick up the plate. Buck looked up at him through the lank strands of his matted hair, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath but he defiantly held the gaze. Brody merely snorted his derision, grabbed Buck's arm and hauled him to his feet. With clenched teeth, gritted against the cry of pain, which threatened, as his arm felt like it was being wrenched from its socket, Buck managed to stagger to his feet and stood swaying for a moment before Brody pushed him towards the horses.

"Get a move on, injun. We got a full day's ride ahead of us to look forward to."

Buck shuffled up to his tethered horse. This time when Brody held out his stirrup he could barely lift his leg high enough.

"It'd be easier if my hands were tied in front," Buck said evenly.

"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you, injun. Think I'm gonna take any chances with you? No, my friend, I've got my heart set on $2,000 and I aim to collect, so you'll have to try a little bit harder, if you please or I can just sling you across the saddle and tie you down."

With great deal of effort, Buck managed to draw on the small amount of energy in him and, using all his depleted resources, lifted his foot to the proffered stirrup, while Brody shouldered him up, quietly cursing under his breath that a dead body would be a whole lot easier.

Once in the saddle, Buck tried to catch his breath. He'd never have thought getting on a horse would ever be that difficult for him. Brody swung easily into his own saddle and set off, with a hunched and subdued Buck being led behind.

Thanks for sticking with me – and Buck! Appreciate you're reading my story.