"JD, keep your eyes peeled. The judge said there was talk of Storm's family hiring men to come get him, and they may think he is still in our jail. Hopefully Buck and Vin will be back today or tomorrow." Chris worried about leaving JD alone, but he also knew JD had learned a lot in the last few years.
Ezra came down the stairs as promised just after dawn, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He wasn't about to give Larabee any reason to be angry at him before they even left Four Corners. He and the leader of the seven never seemed to have any trouble finding points to disagree on as it was.
The prisoner, Russell Storm, was tied up on a third horse, prattling on about how there was no way they would make it to Yuma prison. He was convinced that his kin would send someone to rescue him long before that. Larabee yelled, "shut up!" He then looked at Ezra, tipped his hat to JD and said, "let's ride."
Vin and Buck were up before the sun. The two men packed their belongings and made a quick batch of coffee before they headed out for the second day of hunting for 6-yr-old Sam Miller. The night had been cold and the ground hard, so both men felt stiff and sore as they continued to follow the set of horse tracks. The tracker's back hurt more than usual, but he just chalked it up to sleeping on the cold ground.
The horses they followed were moving at a good pace, and it didn't seem like Vin and Buck gained much, if any, ground on them. Even as the heat of the day grew, Vin continued to shiver and his back continued to ache. Tanner wouldn't admit it to his companion, but he felt pretty lousy. And that showed in his mood. "Why ain't we gainin' any ground on these fellows? We've been riding hard, and we ain't even found their campsite from last night yet."
All Buck could think to say was "Maybe they rode through the night?"
"Well, mebbe we should have too," replied Vin. "Looks to me like it's gonna rain this afternoon, and then we're gonna lose the tracks completely."
The lean Texan was usually one of the most patient men of the seven, so Buck rode up close to Tanner and saw his pale features. "You ok, Vin?"
"M'fine Bucklin. Let's get moving before the rain gets here," and with that Vin raced his horse across the plains.
Ezra couldn't help but chuckle to himself as Chris Larabee again screamed at their prisoner to "be quiet, or I'm gonna cut out your tongue!"
Storm had continued his non-stop yapping and insulting since they departed Four Corners 5 hours ago. In truth, Ezra was tired of listening to it as well, but there was the amusement that came along with watching Larabee's reactions to it. "How could a man's face turn THAT red," the gambler puzzled to himself.
The sun beat down on the men as they stopped for a quick meal, but they could see storm clouds building to the west. Ezra hoped they would find a town or at least a cave to sleep in tonight, or they were likely in for a soggy slumber. So far, that was their biggest concern of the trip.
Ezra noted "there has been no sign of other riders that might be looking to emancipate Mr. Storm."
To which Chris quickly replied, "too bad too 'cause I'm really lookin' for an excuse to shoot this worthless piece of crap." He motioned to their prisoner, as he stood and began to ready the horses for the afternoon leg of their trip.
The winds picked up as they traveled on, and later in the afternoon it started to rain. Both of the regulators looked for a place to hole up for the night, but there was no sign of any kind of shelter…..so they kept riding and much to Ezra's chagrin, kept getting wetter and wetter. Finally, they came upon a rock outcropping that would shelter them from the westerly winds a bit, so they stopped and made camp. It was dark and too wet for a fire. There would be no hot meal tonight. Ezra unpacked some bread and dried meat, while Chris walked around the end of the rock wall to see to the call of nature. The next thing Ezra knew, a large, hard object struck him in the back of the head knocking him out cold.
Tanner and Wilmington tracked the men and horses to a small, backwater town, and just as they arrived it started to rain.
"Unless we find the posse and boy here in town, I'd say we've lost them," Vin said with a shiver. "'Tween the rain and all of the other folks riding in and out, we aint' got much of a chance."
Buck was really starting to worry about Vin, even though the stubborn tracker kept insisting he was fine. "Let's see if we can find a room then and ask around."
They boarded their horses at the local livery and were pointed in the direction of the one and only boarding house. The owner was a portly woman by the name of Laura, and she provided them with a room for the night. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was clean and certainly beat sleeping out in the rain.
Although Vin wasn't happy about losing the trail, he had to admit he was looking forward to a good night's rest. Maybe that's all he needed to shake whatever was ailing him today. Everything seemed to hurt, and he could not get warm. He started to feel a tickle in the back of his throat as well. "What a wonderful time to get sick," he thought.
"You gonna tell me what's going on with you," Buck asked once they were alone in the room. "I've seen you wincin' and shiverin' all day." Buck walked closer and put his hand on Vin's face. The younger man just shrugged his shoulders when the tall, ladies man said, "damnit Vin, you've got a fever. Why didn't you say somethin'?"
The tracker looked up at Buck with big blue eyes, and shrugged again. Buck was right; he should have said something, but he just wanted to find the little boy.
Buck sighed, understanding why Vin kept quiet. Hell, these seven men were as stubborn as they come and had all ridden hurt or sick at one time or another. Vin did look pitiful though, so Buck told him to go lie down and he would rustle up some dinner from the local saloon.
It was incredibly dark. The cloudy, rainy sky prevented any moonlight from shining through, and Larabee tripped and slid on rocks as he made his way back to camp. As he got closer, he started to get an unsettled feeling in his gut. He couldn't quite place what or why yet, but something didn't seem right. Then Chris realized that even though he was only a few yards from the camp, he didn't hear either Standish or Storm talking. Between the two of them, Larabee hadn't had a moment of silence all day, so why so quiet now? He stopped and waited for a minute and still nothing. The gunslinger continued on, but now with his colt in his hand.
The blond peacekeeper tried to be as quiet as possible. Chris walked slowly around the last boulder, but again his boot slipped on a wet rock and caused a few pebbles to roll away. It was immediately following that he heard, "Come out and throw down your weapon, Larabee, or the pretty boy gambler gets it."
Chris' eyes adjusted enough that he could see a large figure holding a revolver to the side of Ezra's head. The gambler was out cold and propped up against the rock wall. There were three additional men, including a now free Russell Storm, standing to the right of the gun-toting fellow, and all of them had their weapons pointing towards Larabee.
Chris couldn't risk them shooting Ezra in the head, so he did as he was told. He dropped his weapon and was tied up and shoved roughly down next to Standish. Larabee didn't see any bleeding wounds on Ezra, but he imagined the gambler was going to have one heck of a headache when he woke up.
Buck returned to the boarding house room with two plates full of food and a bottle of whiskey. He found Vin passed out asleep on the bed. He shook the ill man's shoulder and asked if he was hungry, but Vin mumbled something about a sore throat and rolled back over. Buck would go back in a little while and see if he could find some soup for the tracker. In the meantime, he guessed he would just have to eat both plates of food. Good thing he was hungry.
Storm's buddies or kin, or whoever these men were, took turns guarding their prisoners throughout the night. Ezra came to about an hour after the blow to his head. He was sore, wet, and chilled to the bone, with a headache that throbbed with every heartbeat. He was not very happy about his current situation, but he was even more unhappy to see Larabee tied up right beside him.
When Chris noticed Ezra stirring, he said "Storm's men finally showed up. How you feelin'?"
"Like I've been knocked out and left in the rain," Ezra replied, his green eyes having a hard time focusing. "How many miscreants are there?"
"Four, including Storm," said Chris as he tried to get a better look at Ezra's head. "Don't see any blood back there, but they musta whacked you a good one. You were out for a while."
"Well, you have often commented on how much I like my beauty sleep," the gambler retorted.
"Why don't you try to get some more of it, if you can. Might help that headache some."
Ezra knew Chris was likely working on a plan to get them out of this mess, but right now his head hurt too much to even think about their odds of escape.
Later in the evening, Buck woke Vin and propped him up to try to get a bit of broth and water down him. The tracker's fever continued to rise. The tall man bathed Vin's face and body to try and cool him off, but it didn't seem to be helping. If Tanner wasn't better tomorrow, Buck would send a wire back home to see if Nathan had returned from the Indian village.
Wilmington had asked around town about the boy and the riders. A few of the town's folks saw a group of men with a young boy come through the day before. They stopped long enough to get supplies and headed south out of town. The boy hadn't seemed to be hurt, and Buck hoped he would stay that way until they found him.