The next morning Doc awoke late, feeling somewhat refreshed. Soon bacon and coffee was being made for breakfast. The smell was almost heavenly, he felt so hungry. They made some small talk and Doc passed over a cup of coffee to Brookshire as they ate. The man smiled in thanks and reached out to take it. A loud crack rang out about them and the cup of steaming coffee flew into the air, another crack and the frying pan and bacon were disrupted sending grease flying in all directions. Doc gave a sharp cry of surprise as some of the hot liquid landed upon one of his hands.

Within a second Famous Shoes was on his and feet heading for cover before any of the other men had fully understood the situation. Another shot rang out and one of the pack horses went down.

"Run!" Doc cried, realizing fully what was happening. "Grab a gun and get under cover!" he ordered the two men left. Brookshire grabbed his big cumbersome shotgun and then headed for shelter from the onslaught; Ted it seemed had lost all his senses and just ran towards the thickets, Brookshire close behind. Doc already had his handgun at his hip and grabbed a rifle before he began to follow the other two men; he glanced back over his shoulder and saw another horse fall down dead.

They all took cover in some large thickets that lay beside the river; they ran a little further, out of the path of any bullets and came to a rest near the bank.

"Where'd Famous Shoes go?" Ted asked in panic. "He's abandoned us!"

"Calm down Ted, Famous Shoes looks after himself; you should have known that by now."

"Do you reckon it's him? That it's the Garza boy come after us after doin' Call in?"

Doc gave the young boy an annoyed glance. "I told you the Captain's alive."

Ted turned his attention to Brookshire, asking the same question with his eyes.

"I have no idea who it is" Brookshire said, trying to catch his breath, his brow furrowed as he thought. "Maybe it's those vaqueros Famous Shoes picked up the tracks of a day or so back?"

"No." Doc said certainly. "If it was plain ol' bandits they'd have rode in and slaughtered us. They wouldn't have shot the horses either, they're valuable to them."

"Then it is him!" Ted said, panic again edging his voice. "We're done for."

"Ted, you're not helpin'" Doc said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Did you manage to get any guns?"

Brookshire held up his shotgun and Doc groaned. "Why did you bring that great thing!" he scolded. "A rifle would have been better." He turned to Ted who looked sheepishly up at him, the small gesture stating he hadn't brought anything. Doc gave a small grunt of frustration.

Doc furrowed his brow, turning his thoughts back to the situation at hand. "Why didn't he just shoot us?" he pondered to himself. "Why did he kill the animals? It don't make any sense."

"Nothing makes sense out here!" Brookshire lamented. "This whole damn trip hasn't made a bit of sense. The Captain's injured and we're stuck out here with hardly any guns and a young boy with more skill with a rifle than Colonel Terry has with whores!"

Doc glanced at him, surprised by his anger fueled outburst, but then the prospect of death did make men change a little.

"We'll be alright. There are three of us and only one of him" Doc tried, but Brookshire wasn't listening.

"We'll all be dead as soon as this boy feels like finishing us off" he mumbled.

"We just have to hold out until nightfall, we can go back into camp and get some food." Doc scratched his chin in thought. "That boy was hitting what he was aimin' at, question is why wasn't he aimin' at us… it doesn't make sense."

Brookshire clutched at his shotgun and with his free hand pinched the bridge of his nose under his round rimmed glasses. "Nothing out here makes any sense, it's all just killing" he bemoaned with distaste. He looked glum for a moment before seeming to regain himself a little and turning to Doc.

"What will we do now?"

"You reckon we'll have to fight?" Ted put in.

"Hunker down and wait till it gets dark, then we can gather supplies" Doc repeated, with a small reassuring nod to them both.

"Can't we just hike down the river?" Brookshire asked. "We can't get lost if we follow the river." He swallowed. "He'll leave us be if we follow the river."

Doc checked the bullets in his pockets; he only had two and what was already loaded in the rifle. He then checked his pistol, it was loaded but not full. "Unless he flushes us out... I got the feeling he wants us to run, though I don't know why he does."

The three men fell silent and sat back, waiting for the time the sun would go down.

---

The moon shone clearly and offered a little light to guide them back to where their camp had been. Doc's eyes widened as he beheld the sight, everything had been stripped. The food was gone along with saddles, blankets and even the cooking pots. Joey Garza had taken everything.

"Damn, the rascal took it all!" Ted said in clear disbelief.

"I'll say he did. He didn't even leave us a pot. We don't have anything to cook in it if he had" Brookshire said with a shake of his head.

"Do you have any matches?" Doc asked, turning to Brookshire. "You smoke a pipe sometimes."

"I haven't fired up today" Brookshire said sadly. "The matches were in my saddle bag along with my pipe."

Doc furrowed his brow in irritation. They did have food but no way to cook it. He pulled out his knife and leant by one of the dead horses.

"Well, I've had to eat raw horsemeat before, reckon I can do it again" he said casually and began to slice thin strips of meat from the animal's flank.

Brookshire gave a small noise of displeasure but Doc knew it wouldn't be long before he wanted a piece too.

"Let's head further down river. Famous Shoes will catch up with us eventually" Doc said, giving them both a firm nod.

They all turned and began to walk back, but they hadn't taken more than a few steps before a shot rang out and hit a rock near Brookshire's foot. The three men stopped dead and another shot rang out, just missing Doc's elbow.

"Get to cover, he's marked us!"

The men ran back into the thicket and found some cover as the clouds above them opened and rain poured down, heavy and unrelenting.

Brookshire rested back against a sandy rock. "Let him come and kill us. He's going to anyway. He knows right where we are. He's got our food and ammunition. He's just playing with us now. He can kill us anytime, and he knows it!" He paused, his voice becoming embittered. "I've spent nothing but cold nights since I got to Texas. I'll be damned if I want to spend another cold night, squatting on my heels, just to get shot in the morning. He can shoot me now and spare me the shivering."

Doc glanced at Ted, whose face mirrored Brookshire's.

"Mr. Brookshire's right Doc, I'm tired of this."

"We're all tired" Doc tried to reassure, "Don't give up yet."

"He shot Captain Call, and he's a famous Ranger, if he can shoot him he can kill us easily." Ted said.

"Let's go to the creek. We'll give it one more night. If we go back, he might let us go." Doc tried again to lift their spirits.

"Go back where? There's nothing back that way. I'd rather be shot than starve, and I'd even rather be shot than shiver all night. I'm tired of shivering, and I'll tell Joey Garza so, if I see him. I'll tell Colonel Terry something, too, if I make it back to the office. Joey Garza can rob all the trains he wants to, but Ned Brookshire's resigning. I'll be damned if I'll wander around Mexico any longer, freezing to death!" A slightly crazed look had entered his eyes as he spoke. Doc had seen this look before and there was no reasoning with any man who had it.

Ted suddenly saw the situation for what it was, Brookshire wasn't just tired like he was, he was thoroughly through with everything, Brookshire was going to leave. "Mr. Brookshire, just wait one more night. There's three of us like Doc said, we might beat him. We'd do better sticking together."

"I appreciate the thought" Brookshire said honestly, looking at the young boy."But I've waited and waited, and now I'm going, killer or no killer. I can follow the river as well as the next man, I guess. Maybe I'll get through." He paused and turned to Doc. "If I don't get through all I ask is that you send my love to my sister."

"I don't know your sister Ned!" Doc said, desperately trying to grasp at any reason he could find to make the man stay. "I wouldn't know how to get word to her."

"Her name's Matilda Morris, she lives in Avon, Connecticut. Tell her I regret I had no time to write before I left… but Colonel Terry wanted me on the next train, and that was that" he said sadly.

Brookshire turned to Ted and extended his hand; they shook fondly, the gesture had a certain air of sorrow etched to it, before he turned to Doc and grasped his hand in his and shook it hard. He stood up, cocked both barrels of his shotgun and waded bravely out into the night.

Doc glanced at Ted once again, there was nothing to be done other than wait for the outcome.

---

Joey could clearly see where the three men had tried to hide. He was pleased that Famous Shoes had run off into the night, he didn't like the thought of killing the old man, his bullet would be wasted. A heavy rain had begun to fall and Joey sat surrounded by all the belongings he had gathered from the men's dead horses and camp. There wasn't much that he wanted to keep but that wasn't the point, the point was to give these men no other choice but to walk, he'd make sure they ended up dead one way or another.

Suddenly his attention was caught by movement; one of the men was standing from their hiding place. Joey smirked; the man must be a fool to leave the shelter of the thicket. But his reasons did not concern Joey, at least now he could get some sport in to the dismal, rain soaked night. His alert eyes followed the man as he walked out into the camp area, a large ugly shotgun in his hand. It was the portly man with glasses, far too easy but better than nothing.

Joey tried for a moment to picture what was going through the man's mind. By the look upon his face he was dwelling upon his home and the longing he felt to be back there. He walked cautiously over the grass and silently Joey slipped into the darkness and made his move. The man had turned his face up to the sky, relishing the cool rain, perhaps thinking he was past the worst, that the deadly bandit was asleep. Joey soon proved all his hopes were useless. He stepped out as a crack of lightning bathed the area in an eerie glow. Joey pulled back the hammer of his pistol and the familiar click rang out, alerting the man to his presence, to the death he couldn't escape from.

The man whirled around to face him, his face falling in fear before he seemed to regain himself. He studied Joey for a moment as the harsh lightning continued to strike down and illuminate them. Joey's pistol was aimed directly at his head and he knew there was no escape.

"Well…" Brookshire said calmly, his eyes holding contempt for the young man before him. "At least I've seen your face."

Joey didn't reply or show any kind of emotion, he pulled the trigger and the bullet struck the man through the head. He dropped to the ground like a heavy sack of flour, dead even before his body had come to a rest. Joey thought the man had died well for a fat gringo, but he felt no remorse and as silently as he had come into the clearing he stepped back into the shadowed cover of the long grasses.

---

Doc and Ted heard the shot echoing in the night air, it chilled them both to their very bones. They glanced at each other, sharing a small silent moment in memory for their friend who now lay dead somewhere out there in the cold rain.

They huddled close as the rain continued to fall, it was only a heavy shower and thankfully it subsided as quickly as it had begun. Again they were left with nothing to do but wait, in daylight perhaps they would have a better chance at knowing what was to be done – what could be done…

Neither spoke, finding that they had nothing to say. Their words would only have dwelled on Brookshire and the morbid fact that he was no more… their own fates may be little better and Doc knew at such moments it was best to avoid voicing such thoughts, people tended to panic when faced with their own mortality. Ted was young, only just into his twenties and Doc knew the young could take such things to heart.

The fact that he too may die did not pass Doc's mind unheeded, he too feared death as most men did but not because of what lay beyond the threshold, the unknown path that may or may not exist… to Doc the thing he feared most was leaving those he loved behind. He couldn't bear to think of Ella mourning for him, for being the cause of her tears and sadness. Doc had lost many friends over the years and he bitterly knew better than most that death was a journey everyone must take sooner or later and it was always worse on those left behind in the world of the living, the dead had no cares anymore…

He dozed lightly, the rifle pulled to his chest as Ted slumbered uneasily beside him. Doc knew they now only had two near spent weapons between them, against a young bandit who not only had a deadly rifle but all their supplies and guns, their chances did not seem too bright.

As dawn began to break through and turn the surrounding sky a welcoming golden color, Doc heard light footfalls. He swallowed and readied himself for whoever was approaching, his finger upon the trigger and his muscles taught and ready.

He soon lowered the gun as he saw Famous Shoes making his way through the long grass towards them. Doc smiled at the old Indian, his heart gladded by the sight of him, at least he hadn't abandoned them fully. But Doc also knew Joey would not have allowed him to just wander through without heed, Doc was fully aware Famous Shoes and Joey Garza had crossed paths.

Famous Shoes crouched beside him and glanced around.

"Is Brookshire dead?" Doc asked, not turning to look at the Indian.

"Yes, Joey shot him" Famous Shoes replied matter-of-factly.

Doc nodded. "So, when's he comin' to kill us?"

"He says if you will give him your boots, he will let you both go. He doesn't think you'll follow him without your boots."

Doc gave him a wary look. "Why didn't he kill you?"

"I am too old to waste bullets on." Famous Shoes looked out towards the river. "Joey wants me to bring him your boots" he continued impatiently.

Doc pursed his lips in thought as a sleepy Ted finally began to stir and awake from his uncomfortable slumber. "Where is he?" Doc said, turning fully to Famous Shoes.

"He is by 'Ie Concho'. If you go towards the village, I think he will kill you. If you go the other way, he might let you go."

Doc narrowed his eyes, Joey didn't want him to head back to Ojinaga, that much was clear and Doc doubted it had anything to do with Captain Call… this was to do with Ella. Joey was trying to keep him away… and Doc didn't trust this bandit's word even an inch.

Doc shook his head. "I'm goin' back to the village" he said simply. "I don't think that boy has any intention of lettin' me or Ted walk out of this alive."

Famous Shoes nodded in understanding. "You may be right, maybe not." He paused, "Can I borrow your knife? Joey took mine. I want to cut myself some horsemeat so I will have food."

"Sure" Doc said distractedly, trying to think, his mind settled upon an idea. "I'll do better than that if you do me a favor, I'll give you this knife." Doc pulled his bowie knife out of its sheath and showed it to Famous Shoes. "See it'll keep a good edge."

"What is it you want me to do?" Famous Shoes said untrustingly.

"I'll tell you later, let's eat first."

"Can I have some of your horsemeat until I can cut some for myself?" Famous Shoes asked.

Doc nodded and handed him a strip of meat before passing a piece to Ted who looked on listening intently.

"I don't like to be with Joey" Famous Shoes continued, chewing upon his food.

"Why not?" Ted put in.

"He might get in a bad mood and kill me. He has a temper." Famous Shoes again returned to eating.

Ted nodded in understanding but his expression was puzzled.