Heyes' wild ride down the rocky hillside terrorized the two horses. It was difficult for them to find traction on the shifting shale and they scrambled to stay upright, their horseshoes sparking and clattering against the sharp stones. He drove his mount on relentlessly, blinded by his desperation to get away. Reaching the canyon floor, the animals picked up speed in the soft sand and flew down valley.
OOOOOOOOOO
The Kid awoke to the sun burning his face. Moaning, he rolled over onto his knees and rocked back into a semi-upright position. It took him a minute to remember his partner's attack and, when he did, he jumped to his feet and wildly looked around. The horses were gone. He saw a canteen nearby and snatched it up. Running back into the stone house, he quickly gathered up their meager belongings. He had to catch up with Heyes fast and he was going to have to do it on foot. He hurried down the footpath, past the half-trampled brace of rabbits, and onto the valley floor. Picking up a slow but sustainable dogtrot, he followed the tracks leading down valley.
OOOOOOOOOO
The horses pounded on but they were tiring fast. It had been too many days in the hot sun with too little feed. The Kid's horse slowed first without a rider to spur him on. He began to pull heavily against the reins Heyes held. Yanking and cussing, the agitated man tried to draw him on until finally he dropped the reins and allowed the animal to drop to a walk. His own horse slowed, but Heyes spurred him roughly and slapped him with the reins. Unused to such rough treatment from his rider, it frightened him. Despite the beast's exhaustion, he plunged ahead fearfully, leaving his friend behind.
OOOOOOOOOO
Curry had slowed his pace to a walk a while ago and now determinedly plodded along. The sun had climbed directly overhead and it was taxing his strength. He had found a few small spots of shade in this branch of the canyon and had stopped frequently to rest and cool his overheated system. Despite conserving his water as best he could, it was nearly gone and he knew he had a long walk ahead of him. Rounding another twist in the arroyo, he spotted an island of cottonwoods. He quickened his pace hoping to find the underground spring the trees would require for survival. Upon reaching the shady shelter, he closed his eyes in relief. A horse snorted nearby and his eyes shot open to see his gelding looking back at him across an expanse of low shrubs. He spoke softly as he crept forward, "Hey, boy. It's real good to see you. Easy now." His horse was equally glad to see him and strode eagerly towards him. He picked up the reins and patted the animal, noting the dried sweat on his body. He looked around in vain for Heyes. "Easy, son. Let's get you some water." The Kid led his horse to a tree and tied him off. Turning away, he saw a dried streambed snaking through the cottonwoods. It was common in the desert for the rains to create channels for the runoff. These, however, had dried quickly after the rains ceased and had all but disappeared leaving only the carved sand behind. Knowing all he had to do was dig deep enough at the roots of the cottonwoods and there would be water, he dropped to his knees and using his hands, began to dig.
OOOOOOOOOO
Heyes' strength gave out before his horse did. He could no longer urge the animal on. He gripped the saddle horn, instinctively hanging on. The horse had all but stopped and staggered along with his head down, lathered in sweat and blowing hard. When his rider lost consciousness and pitched forward onto his neck, he stopped to begin nibbling at what little foliage he could find.
OOOOOOOOOO
Refreshed by the cool water, the Kid's horse perked up considerably as he filled his canteen with the water he found and ate a small portion of jerky he'd found in Heyes' bags. Both horse and rider were much improved. He mounted and picked up a slow but steady pace, once again trailing his partner. He could tell by the tracks Heyes was slowing down and he would catch up with him soon. It was hard to believe the man had the strength left to flee and Curry hoped he'd find him before it was too late.
After only a few more bends in the canyon, he spotted Heyes still mounted but listing off to one side of his horse, obviously out cold again. The animal nickered a greeting and walked up to the Kid with his rider bouncing dangerously low across his neck. Quickly dismounting, Curry grabbed the dangling reins with one hand and reached up to steady Heyes with the other. He looked terrible; wet with sweat and trembling but the Kid knew they couldn't stay here, it was too exposed. It was better for him to keep Heyes on his horse and continue on until they found some sort of shelter. He pushed the unconscious man back into the saddle until he was centered. Using the latigo straps by the pommel, he tied his partner's arms securely on either side of the horn and did the same with the back straps, binding his legs in the same manner. That ought to keep him in the saddle, thought Curry, and it ought to keep him from swinging at me again.
OOOOOOOOOO
It had taken the rest of the day and part of the next to reach the mouth of the Dirty Devil River. At the slow speed they were moving, the Kid knew they wouldn't make the Roost until late that night. Heyes was still passing in and out of consciousness and had not really been coherent at all. He'd kept him tied up, even last night, just in case he tried to make a run for it again in his confused state. Periodically, his cousin would awaken and struggle against his bonds cussing heartily; but mostly he talked in nonsensical sentences and stared vacantly at the ground. It was painful to see him this way and the Kid was afraid of permanent damage to Heyes' brilliant mind but he pushed the thought aside without lingering on it. There was nothing he could do but press on. He had to get Heyes to shelter and a place to rest.
It had been years since they'd had ridden this way. The gang had once pulled a profitable job in Price, Utah, and had fled south with a posse hot on their heels. Heyes had known the location of the Roost having holed up there before with the Plummer gang after a robbery had gone bad. He'd led his gang through the twisting trail following the banks of the river.
Cap Brown had been at the Roost when the Devil's Hole boys arrived. He'd used it for years as a hideout to run stolen horses. Other outlaws would drift in and out from time to time. Cap would delight in roping them into all-night, whiskey-fueled poker games which often ended in violence since he was a terrible cheat. There were quite a few graves behind the rough cabin that served as the saloon.
Brown had welcomed the gang with open arms figuring some of the stolen money would be coming his way soon. What he hadn't counted on was the young upstart leader of the gang was well-versed at poker and could spot a cheat a mile away. Heyes had caught onto Cap immediately and knowing most of the ways to cheat at poker had shut him down. The result was the gang won a handsome set of remounts and made record time on their return to the Hole. Brown had not been a gracious loser, but he knew when he was out-manned and out-gunned so he had given in without too much fuss. Curry wondered if he was still there, and if not, who was.
OOOOOOOOOO
Robbers Roost was Utah's version of Devil's Hole. The law had tried and failed for years to penetrate the canyon. The only access was a narrow slot canyon easily guarded. The rest of the land surrounding it was simply too rough and open to pass through undetected. Once through the narrows, the canyon widened out into a meadow area dotted with old cabins. Cows and horses grazed placidly and chickens ran to and fro across the trail and under the Kid's horse as they were escorted by two of the six guards who had spotted them on the way in.
He'd learned Cap Brown was long gone from the Roost and, in his place, was a two-bit outlaw by the name of "Poke" Morgan. Morgan led a small gang of misfits who had made a name for themselves robbing stagecoaches and highway travelers along the route west. When questioned, the Kid had said they were Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones, horse thieves. He desperately hoped they wouldn't be turned away, but he hadn't been willing to reveal who they really were; not with twenty thousand dollars on their heads. He'd also gotten an earful on the way in. The guards had told him Morgan was easy going, lazy really, and spent most of his time drunk between jobs leaving security up to his men. This suited Curry just fine.
Pulling up to a small cabin, the guards dismounted and nodded to the Kid to do the same. With their help, he untied Heyes and slid him off the horse. The three of them carried him inside. It was dark and cool and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. He heard the click of a gun hammer ahead of him and stopped tensely. Heyes was half draped across him and he couldn't reach for his gun. Just as well, he was already covered by the slovenly-looking man seated at the rough table.
"Now, boys, just who do we have here?" asked the man. The Kid looked him over. He was small and wiry with muscular arms. Not quite the lazy man who had been described to him. His hair was a dirty blond color as much from lack of hygiene as from genetics. He had a broken nose and was missing several of his front teeth.
"Poke, this here's Thaddeus Jones and the other fella is Joshua Smith," said the guard.
Poke smirked, "Smith and Jones, huh? Not too bright, are you? What's wrong with 'im?"
"He's got a head wound. We need a place to rest up." The Kid was struggling to hold up his partner's dead weight.
"Why'd I want to help you?"
"They's outlaws! Same as you and me,"interjected the stunned guard. He couldn't believe Poke was even considering turning away two fellow bandits. The Roost had long been a haven for those beyond the law. There was an unwritten code that all outlaws would be welcomed.
Ignoring them all, the Kid hauled Heyes' over to a bed in the corner and laid him down. Gently, he lifted his legs onto the bed and covered him with a dirty blanket. Straightening up, he turned back to Poke who was watching him closely.
"I'd be much obliged if we could stay a while. We've been on the road for days."
"So how come you been on the road? Who's chasing you?"
"A bounty hunter."
"Who? I know a few," said Poke blandly.
"Jake Hawkins."
"Hawkins, I heard of him. He's pretty good from what I've heard," said Poke, thinking Hawkins wouldn't bother with two penny-ante horse thieves. He was a fairly big time bounty hunter. Something was off here.
"Good enough. So, what's it going to be?" Curry had seen the flicker of interest at Hawkins' name and realized his mistake.
"Ah, hell, you can stay. Use this cabin, I'll sleep across the way," offered Poke, rising but keeping his eyes on the blond-haired stranger. There was something about him that seemed familiar, but he was having a hard time figuring it out what it was.
"Thanks," said the Kid as he stared coldly at the three of them. The other men quickly got the message and left him alone with his unconscious partner. Looking down at Heyes, he examined him carefully for the first time in days. He had kept focused on the task of finding shelter and hadn't allowed himself to think too hard about his cousin's injuries. Heyes' face was chalky white, gaunt, and beaded with sweat. The bruise on his forehead had faded to a sickly yellow-brown color. Curry felt his brow. It was hot. Never a heavy man, Heyes had lost weight since his accident. Was it any wonder? They'd been chased out of one town or another without a break. It was only Heyes' stubborn decision to try for the Roost that had saved them from being caught; but at what cost?
If Heyes died, it was all over for the Kid. He'd been the one who'd first suggested trying for the amnesty. Heyes had laughed at him when he said it; only warming to the idea after thinking it over. Curry wondered why he'd ever thought they could do it. He knew now the price was too high to pay and he'd never forgive himself if the quest for amnesty caused the death of his best friend. If they got out of this mess, he was ready to give it up and go back to outlawing.
He spent the next two days cleaning. He cleaned his gun, he cleaned their clothes, and he cleaned the cabin from top to bottom much to the amusement of the Morgan gang. He fixed the roof and fetched fresh grasses for bedding the horses. He was going crazy waiting for Heyes to show some sign, any sign, of awakening but Heyes lay deathly still. He'd tried banging pans and yelling out his partner's name all in a vain attempt to wake him. By late the second evening, he was completely demoralized and simply sat in a broken rocker on the small porch staring at the canyon walls and rocking absently. He knew there was a possibility Heyes might never wake up. He'd already been out of it for the better part of a week. The Kid didn't want to think that way, but the longer his cousin was unconscious, the more often the thought would creep into his mind.
Poke put his head around the door from time to time to see how his guests were doing. Tonight he'd brought by a bottle of whiskey and left it for the Kid feeling sorry for the young outlaw. Once, he'd had a good partner of his own, and the future had seemed a bright and colorful place; but he'd been gunned down by a trigger-happy deputy over a stinking fifty dollar robbery. That's when Poke had taken to the bottle so he'd figured Jones might like that option, too. "Besides, a condemned man ought to have a last drink or two," Poke had told his men with a short laugh. Jones didn't know it, but Poke was friends with a crooked sheriff in Green River and had sent a rider out with a description of the two men. He was sure they were wanted for more than just horse thieving. He knew he'd seen Jones somewhere, but it just wouldn't come to him.
The Kid fell asleep early that night relaxed by the whiskey. In the very early hours of the next morning, he was awakened by a thumping noise next to him. He reached over in the dark and felt Heyes' arm moving jerkily about. Jumping up, he quickly lit a lantern and holding it up to cast a weak light, he saw Heyes' eyes were open, but he seemed unaware of his flailing about. Curry set the lantern down on a small side table and grabbed his cousin's arm. Heyes struggled to free himself while the Kid talked soothingly to him. Heyes' face was a mask of pain. His jaw was clenched and his head was whipping back and forth. He gazed at nothing until he shuddered hard then looked into Curry's eyes. "Kid…," he whispered, instantly relaxing. Brushing the hair out of his friends eyes, the Kid smiled. "Hey, it's about time you woke up."
"Wha…?" Heyes shifted his weight on the bed looking about the shabby cabin. Bringing his brown eyes back to his partner, he said, "Where are we?"
"We're at the Roost. We came in a few days ago. Cap's gone and there's some small-time crook named Morgan running the place. He seems okay. He's pretty much left us alone," said the Kid reassuringly, not wanting to let on that he didn't trust Poke. Heyes didn't need to worry, he needed to rest.
"Does he know who we are?"
"I told him we were Smith and Jones."
"Did he buy it?"
"I think he did. Don't worry about it. I'll keep an eye out."
Heyes looked strained and his eyes were constantly shifting about. The tic in the corner of his mouth was tugging at his cheek uncontrollably. It was clear that he was still pretty bad off. "How long have I been out?" He was still groggy and trying to clarify his thoughts as his partner tucked the covers tightly around him, trying to keep him warm and still.
Finished, Curry eased back down onto the bed lying on top of the covers. He doubted he could fall back to sleep. "Better part of five days. You had me worried. How's the head? Does it still hurt?"
"Not too bad. Five days?" Heyes closed his eyes again and mumbled, "How can I still be so tired?" He slowly drifted off to sleep as his partner watched.
"You ain't the only one, Heyes," said the Kid softly.
OOOOOOOOOO
Progress was slow the first day. Heyes was having trouble controlling his arm and leg movements and seemed short-tempered because of it. The tic in the corner of his mouth was still there, just not as pronounced. He wasn't usually a man who cursed often, but it seemed like foul words were spilling easily from his mouth.
Curry was patient and ignored the outbursts figuring his partner was frustrated, but as the day wore on he started to realize it was something more. Heyes seemed odd somehow. The Kid would catch him watching him speculatively from the bed as he moved about the cabin. It was creepy. Almost as though Heyes was sizing him up so he found himself keeping one eye on his partner at all times. He hadn't forgotten Heyes' attack the other day or the doctor's warning that his cousin might seem "different". Whatever it was, he'd be careful. Not just for his sake, but for Heyes', too. He was determined to see his friend get the rest he needed and he was not about to let him hurt himself in any way.
By the next day, Heyes seemed more normal. While he was still on a short fuse, he was controlling his temper better. The spastic movements had quieted down, too. The Kid had reminded him of what the doctor had said, and he'd been a fairly cooperative patient. He got up about midday and the Kid helped him out to the rocker on the porch. For the next couple of hours, the two partners sat quietly and watched the day pass. Heyes dozed on and off while the Kid cleaned his gun and mended some of their tack. That evening, he sat down at the dinner table and declared himself healed. The Kid snorted and received an angry glare. Holding his hands up in surrender, Curry laughed and apologized but Heyes had already risen from the table and went to lay down with his back to the room. He quickly fell asleep.
OOOOOOOOOO
Heyes was stronger and better each day. He spent hours prowling around the walls of the Roost looking at the rock art left by former residents. He was fascinated by these traces of ancient travelers and spent hours contemplating them. There were drawings of hunting parties, deer and bighorn sheep. He found drawings and etchings of stylized people, families, and tribes. There were other stranger etchings pecked into the stone. These were odd, devil-like creatures or shapes. What he liked most were the multitudes of hand prints in all sizes and colors. It was as though each tribesman, young and old, male or female, had left a mark for Heyes to find. He wondered who they were and where they'd gone.
He also spent time poking into some of the smaller side canyons. He still tired easily, but the throbbing in his head had lessened significantly. He tinkered with the irrigation system which had been sadly neglected in the past few years and soon had it working smoothly. The other outlaws tried to befriend him, but he wasn't interested in making friends and they eventually left him alone. He still found himself feeling spontaneously angry for no reason and it was difficult for him to be civil. It worried him and made him withdrawn. He knew the Kid saw it, but thankfully his partner was giving him the space he needed.
Curry kept watch from a distance. He knew Heyes was struggling with anger and he didn't want to add to his stress. He was careful to monitor his interactions with the other people in the valley and so far everything had been fine. He'd step in quickly if that changed. He took pains to keep Heyes calm and not irritate him. It was like walking on eggshells, but the Kid was just grateful his friend was on the mend.
Poke still stopped by, but he took care to avoid Smith. The man was a strange one and made him uncomfortable when he stared at him with those cold, knowing eyes. He'd be glad when the sheriff took these two off his hands. He knew he'd have to pay for the service, but there was no way he'd try to take them in on his own.