I decided to post this one a bit early since I'm gonna be kinda busy tomorrow. Enjoy! Thank you for all your reviews, and I'll be sure'n reply to them all when I get some more time. :)
~CHAPTER 19~
He didn't known what time it was, but any time wouldn't have made the happenings around him any less surprising. They were breaking up camp! In his room alone the restraints on his wrists only allowed him a narrow line of sight into the larger cavern, but he distinguished hurried voices and footsteps accompanied with flickering ghostlike shadows on the walls as the men suddenly started to busy themselves. Of all the months that he had been this man's prisoner, he had never seen his men sound so rattled or McWhorter, so pleased. Suddenly, one of the men, he couldn't tell which one, approached him and he felt the manacles around his wrists suddenly unlock, and he was hauled to his feet, unsteady from sitting on the hard stone for so long. He noticed that his wrists looked unfamiliar to him; it had been so long since he'd seen them, now so bruised from the constant rubbing and constriction of the iron rings.
He was pushed out of the cave and beheld the shining stars that dotted the night sky for the first time in weeks. For some reason, just the sight of the long-forgotten beauty of the heavens shrouded with the quiet and peaceful darkness of night gave him hope, an unexplainable hope that soon, maybe, just maybe he might be reunited with his loved ones. The remembrance of sitting out under the stars and pointing out the very constellations he now gazed at to each one of his boys when they were young brought a thread of warmth and comfort to him. Some things never changed. No matter what happened to him, for indeed the hope of seeing them again was a foolish one, he'd still have his memories. That they could never take away from him.
Ben held on to that thought even as they retied his hands in front of him and to the pommel of the same saddle and horse he had ridden when they had brought him there. In all this time they never felt the need to move him, and yet now, they were not only moving him, but it looked like everyone was moving out under the cover of the darkness. Something must have happened to make them feel that they were no longer safe there. That knowledge gave him another inkling of hope, but it was almost dashed when he saw the cool and collected smirk on Jason McWhorter's face as he issued orders to his men for their departure.
Before Ben was taken off, he was given a very pointed stare from the man, one that chilled him to his very core. He had realized for some time that the man was mad, mad with his lust for revenge; but what was he planning now? The thought that it had something to do with his sons couldn't help but creep its way into Ben's already worry-consumed mind. He felt as if they were all putty in the man's hands. All Ben had been going on these weeks was the status quo that as long as he did whatever was required of him, his sons would remain safe, even if all they had worked for came to ruin around them. The stare soon developed into a full grin and then an outright sadistic chuckle which turned Ben's blood to water. He was about to utter something to the man when his eyes were covered with a filthy rag and his horse was pulled along in some unknown direction.
The activities behind him in the camp continued, and he could distinguish the beat of just one other horse besides his own. Apparently he had only a one man escort. They rode on for some time, just how long Ben couldn't tell, but he could feel the sun just start to grace his chilled and tired body when he heard wooden planks beneath the horses' hooves. He was prodded to dismount and was pushed into a sitting position where his hands were retied behind him and the blindfold taken off.
It was then he discovered that he was now in an old barn, and by the looks of the empty stalls, loose flooring and musty smell in the air, it appeared to be one long-since abandoned. Undoubtedly it appeared the group had been there before. Ben's guard knew exactly where to find whatever he needed, and in the front tack room, Ben could make out maps and drawings of the Ponderosa. He involuntarily gritted his teeth when he realized this was where Jason McWhorter must have made all his great plans, devised the stages of its execution and drew out the areas of attack on his home and his family.
Above his growing apprehension over everything around him was the unexplainable question of why they moved him there in the first place. Maybe someone had gotten wind of them, and they no longer felt safe in the cave. That would explain the men's wariness, but what about McWhorter's seemingly pleased attitude? No, not just pleased... contented and self-satisfied attitude. Whenever he saw that look in him, fear for his family coursed through his body. What was he planning now? Ben dwelt on that question throughout the day and into the night. His guard paid him little enough attention. He spent his time straightening the place for the others whom he apparently expected to arrive soon.
Night came, however, and still there was no sign of anyone. After a while Ben found himself start to nod and he brought his knees up in an attempt to keep out the night chill. He soon fell asleep in that position. It was still dark when he was awakened by the young guard. Ben figured he would've been sleeping just as soundly as himself, but instead found him up and about, pacing like a caged animal. There was a small candle lit on the table in the middle of the room, and by its meager glow Ben could see him go to the wide stable door and open it periodically to peer out into the darkness an anxious waiting for someone to appear.
He was younger than the rest. Ben had seen him a few times before, and each time felt sorry that he should be mixed up in something like this. He couldn't be much older than Joe, and yet he would probably already be condemned for life for going in with a man like Jason McWhorter.
As the man whose Ben's attention was focused so strongly on turned back from the door to sit down at the table once again, he looked in Ben's direction and saw that he was now awake and looking at him. He seemed to be annoyed at having been caught worrying, and sat roughly back down at the table, not looking at Ben again. The lad looked frightened. For a few moments, Ben couldn't help but compare him with his youngest, couldn't help but think of what a wasted life he was living. Maybe there was some way he could help him, and at the same time, help himself.
"They're still not coming, huh," Ben suddenly spoke up. The young man turned and looked at him, shock written on his face. He didn't like the look Ben gave him and he quickly turned away with no reply. "Because it's your friends you're waiting for, isn't it?" Still no reply. "Well, it seems pretty dull with just the two of us. What's your name?" That got a reaction, but not the one Ben had hoped for. The young guard suddenly turned and glared at Ben.
"Look, what are you tryin' to do, talkin' to me? You're our prisoner; you shouldn't talk at all, and certainly not to me. So why don't you just keep your mouth shut." Under normal circumstances Ben would've complied, but it seemed as if the boy had reacted out of fear and not hostility. Ben could only imagine what was causing that fear. He ventured another try.
"The Boss didn't tell you to keep me from talking, did he? Since we're both up, I see no reason why we can't at least talk for a bit," he started in as congenial a voice as he could muster under the circumstances. "It's been a long time since I've even done that."
The lad jerked his head around again, annoyance in his young eyes, but after looking at him for several seconds, he grunted. "Fine, as long as you don't bother me."
"Fair enough," Ben replied. At least he was open to conversation. Maybe he'd have a chance after all. "What's your name? I'm assuming you already know mine." The lad retrieved his gun from its holster and prepared to clean it, before he answered.
"Travis. And yeah, of course I know who you are."
"Travis." Ben repeated. "First or last name?"
"It's just Travis," he replied hotly. Ben nodded.
"I imagine your friends are out on that run. And considering the number of times you've looked out that door, they should've been back by now."
"Doesn't matter. They'll get here when they get here." He started to unload the chambers with an assumed air of confidence in his voice and actions.
"Mmm. So, how do you know Jason McWhorter?" The steady click of the gun's cylinder spinning sounded before he received an answer.
"Don't see where that's any concern o' yours."
"Just curious is all. No harm in that."
Travis sighed before stopping his motions temporarily. "I didn't know him... just the friend of a convict of another convict that I became involved with. Needed help, sounded like a good pay-off, and so here I am."
"Well, where's your family?"
"Don't have none," was the short reply.
"I see." Ben decided he wouldn't get far going that route. The easiest way was to just plow through and hope for the best. "Well, why did they leave you to guard me?"
"How should I know!" he yelled. It was a much stronger reaction than Ben expected. A nerve had obviously been struck. Travis had come out of his chair slightly, but now he retook his seat, breathing a little heavily.
What Ben didn't know is that he wasn't supposed to be watching him. He had been assigned to go on the mission with them with Clint being the one on guard, but then things had changed. Whether McWhorter had felt that they needed an older man to help with the Cartwright boys or whether he guessed "the kid" couldn't handle the pressure, Travis didn't know. Maybe that's why he was so jumpy. Did he suspect that he might be losing his nerve for this sort of thing that he might freeze up when the time came to do what that night undoubtedly would call for. "How should I know why he chose me?" he repeated a little more calmly. "I don't give the orders I just obey 'em."
"I see," Ben commented. Time to press a little more. "What were the orders tonight?" Travis looked at him. "Do you really think I could do anything about it if I knew?" Ben asked moving slightly to display how effectively he'd been tied.
"I don't know," he lied. "Just a regular job, I guess." He went back to cleaning his gun.
"Then why so jumpy?" The gun clanked against the table as Travis's sweaty fingers lost their grip on the handle.
"I'm not. And look, you're startin' to bother me now," he shot another angry look Ben's way.
"Just asking simple questions. If everything's going along perfectly, then why move me?"
"I don't make the orders," Travis returned to an old answer.
"Course you don't, but my guess is that you don't agree with these new orders." The chair overturned on the floor as Travis lurched to his feet.
"Look you, I've had just about all I wanna take! You don't know nothin' about me or what's goin' on." Again, Ben saw nothing but fear in the boy's eyes. He was so shaken he didn't realize that in his haste to quiet Ben he brandished an empty gun, its bullets still lay on the table. "Now are you gonna shut up or do I need to gag you?"
Ben decided to press his luck a bit further. "Listen, you're young. You don't wanna be here. You've got your whole life ahead of you. Don't throw it away now. You know this crazy idea of McWhorters'll never work."
"It's been workin' fine!"
"He'll drag you down with him."
"No!" Travis was standing over Ben now, the empty gun in his hand still leveled at him.
"Listen, I can help you. You know the law will catch up with McWhorter. Do you want to be caught on the side of a thief, a rustler and a murderer?"
Travis gasped and let the gun sag in his hand. "You can't help me," he said finally, despairingly, "nobody can help me." His torn mind went back to the night Sam died. He knew that could so easily happen to him. One false move...
"Travis..." He turned his eyes back to Mr. Cartwright, the man who had been their prisoner for so long. He looked pitiful now, tied to a beam, sunken eyes. How will he feel when he finds out about his sons? "I can help you. If you help me."
"I can't. You can't."
"Yes," Ben nodded, plowing ahead before the lad had any more time to change his mind. "I can try'n clear you, if you help me. Help me escape, and I promise I'll put in a good word for you. You won't take blame for any of this, but you must help me."
Travis held his head in his hands for the longest time in an attempt to slow the torrent of thoughts. After several minutes of moving back and forth and labored breaths, he turned to Ben. Indecision riddled his eyes. He was about to speak when the sound of horses approaching was heard. The two men's eyes widened and Travis hurriedly picked up his gun he'd left on the table and reloaded it, not wanting to get caught with an empty weapon.
"Travis?" Ben asked as he headed for the door. He turned back, his mouth set in a grim line, not saying anything. He slowly opened the door, letting in some very early dawn light mingled with mist as the riders stopped outside.
Roy gazed at the timepiece in his hand for a split second more before looking up and gazing all around him, impatient and angry breaths stealing from between his lips. "Don't just stand there," he ordered to the men almost franticly. "Spread out. See if you can find any tracks leading away from here, broken brush, trampled grass, anything." The men hurried off in all directions while Roy looked to the pile of rocks where the watch had been found. This gang knew they were coming. They had to have! If Adam had dropped the watch as a sign to him, he wouldn't have left it in such an obvious spot, since it might've been found by someone other than friends. But how? How did they know they were coming? The question frightened him. If this McWhorter was that far ahead of them...
"Sheriff..." Roy jerked his head up at the call. His hand that held the watch was shaking. Those boys had trusted him. They had trusted him with their lives, and now... now, they were taken, just like Ben had been. Roy knew there was no telling what that madman planned to do with them. But he knew one thing, that it was all his fault for waiting too long. All he could do was just pray that he could find them in time, but that hope was short-lived.
"Sheriff, we... we didn't find any tracks."
"What in Sam Hill are you talkin' about? They had to leave on horses, there ain't none in that corral, and horses leave tracks, now find 'em!"
"Sheriff, we've looked. The ground's hard as rock with how cold it's been. I mean, there's no signs at all. We branched out over fifty yards in every direction. It's like they just vanished. What I'm sayin' is... we have no idea which way they went. I'm sorry, Sheriff."
The watch fell from Roy's hand.