Okay, so this was one of the moments where my brain completely ignored every ounce of medical/anatomical knowledge it's ever learned. Literally so many things would have done Josh in (bullet wounds, shock, concussive blast trauma, internal bleeding, etc) but the fandom side of my brain was just like, "nah, he's fine" and rolled with it. So, yeah, that's how this chapter happened. Bit of a different ending from the movie so be prepared!
The first bullet catches him just below the ribs, ripping through flesh and fabric alike and causing him to stagger. He nearly trips, biting out a curse and pressing a hand over the bleeding wound. Vazquez calls out his name in alarm and returns fire, cursing in Spanish and dropping two more of Bogue's men like rabid dogs. Josh keeps running and dives into an empty shop, ducking behind the wall as more bullets splinter the wood above his head.
He digs a handkerchief out of his pocket and presses it to the bullet wound, hissing and biting back and entire mouthful of curses along the way. It wasn't a fatal wound, he's pretty sure the bullet punched straight through the fleshy part of his side without hitting anything vital. It hurts like a son of a bitch though and the bleeding is heavy. He curses again.
He sees Billy from the corner of his eye, the knife-thrower nodding toward his bloody shirt and giving him look of silent concern.
Josh grits his teeth and presses the handkerchief into the wound a bit harder. "So far, so good," he grinds out, ducking a little as another bullet punches through the wall above him.
The first part of their plan had gone off without a hitch, Bogue's men funneling in exactly where they wanted them to. The initial dynamite blasts had thinned out their numbers significantly but there were still close to one hundred men shooting up the town and now they were left to cull those numbers even further.
It wasn't Bogue's men that were the problem, though (they'd anticipated and prepared for an army). It was all the tiny, insignificant little things that cumulated into much larger problems. The townspeople were still scattering and running for cover, ducking into doorways and seeking shelter wherever they could. It added more confusion to an already chaotic and unpredictable situation and consequences arose. Consequences that would more than likely get them all killed.
Josh had made his peace with the likelihood that most of them wouldn't make it out of this alive. Emma had asked him yesterday what he was doing this for, what he stood to gain by helping them and in all honesty he didn't have a good answer. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't gotten into it for the money; that was certainly the driving factor in the beginning. But as time went on and he began to understand what was at stake, the town and its people, his reasons shifted.
He wasn't a good man, hadn't been one for years and years, but he thinks that maybe defending this town, helping Emma and her neighbors keep their land, maybe that was something a good man did.
He starts to stand again as another spattering of bullets peppers the side of the building. He curses again and drops back down, rearranging the grip on his pistols. The pain from the bullet wound he could deal with; sure, it was was making him dizzy and a little bit nauseous but it was manageable. The blood, on the other hand, needed to be taken care of. It was covering his hands and making his fingers slick and he couldn't have that if he was still planning to shoot with any kind of accuracy.
He gets a grip on his guns and stands back up, ducking out of the building and back onto the street. Billy covers him as he runs, shooting down two more men in a hail of bullets and gunpowder. Vasquez is already in the street, Josh coming up to join him, and Billy flanking along the back. They gather together on the street, side by side and guns drawn. For the briefest of moments, the shooting stops.
The peace doesn't last long though. There's a tremendous crash from the corner of town, a shout somewhere between a war cry and a warning whoop. The three men startle slightly and look toward the source of the noise, catching sight of a figure rushing toward them. A horse jumps over a set of burning wagon toward the edge of town and Goodnight bursts into the town square.
"Get inside! Get inside!" the Cajun commands, rounding the three of them up and ushering them toward an open building. "They've got a Goddamn gatling gun!"
The warning comes not a moment too soon. They duck inside the nearest building just a split second before the world explodes in a spray of gunfire. Josh is still half standing in the doorway when Vasquez shoves him down to the ground and growls, "get down!"
The town is swept from one end to the other, a devastating spray of bullets that cuts through anything and everything. Townspeople are mowed down in the street, windows shatter and buildings are splattered with dozens of bullet holes.
Goodnight is still shouting warnings even though it's painfully obvious what's happening now. He's dragging people into buildings, shoving them to the floor and keeping them away from the windows. Josh and Vasquez stay tucked inside the building and reload their guns, taking out a few more gunmen on the fringes once they're done. They've lost track of Billy but it's a reasonable assumption that the knife-thrower has gone to join Robicheaux in his efforts to round up the wayward townsfolk.
After several long, terrifying seconds, the gunfire stops and the town is left is ruined silence. For a moment nothing else happens and there's an air of tense anticipation of what to expect. That silence is cut by a shout from across the street, panicked and desperate, and Josh looks up to see the general store the children were sheltered in on fire.
He curses and jumps up, wincing as the movement tugs at his wounded side, and breaks into a run across the street. He's not worried about Bogue's men or the gatling gun at the moment; all he sees is the smoking storefront.
"The children!" he shouts, dashing across the street to the burning building. He nearly crashes into Sam as they both reach the building at the same time, rushing inside and flipping open the trapdoor, motioning for the women and children down below to come up. They come upstairs in a panic, unsure of where to go or what to do. Sam just ushers them outside and points to a field, urging them to run that way and not to stop. No place is safe but honestly anywhere is safer than here at the moment.
The second round of gunfire starts a few seconds later and the town is thrust into chaos once again. Goodnight and Billy have made it up into the bell tower of the church, returning fire as best they can but it won't be enough. With that gatling gun still in commission, Bogue will cut the town right out from under them, mowing it down in a spray of bullets until there's nothing but sawdust left.
Josh and Sam end up on the other side of a building, tucked beneath a wagon full of coffins. It would be hilariously ironic if they weren't being shot at right now.
Sam peaks out from behind the wagon, taking stock of their situation. When he looks back at Josh, he catches sight of the growing bloodstain on his shirt and frowns. "You doin' alright?" he asks, dubious of the answer before Josh ever gives it to him.
Josh gives him a pained grin and nods. "So far so good," he mutters, pressing his arm back against the wound. It's throbbing now, deep and vicious, and each breath feels like a piece of hot coal is being jammed into his side. He groans and lets his head fall back against the building. "I'm gonna need a new vest after this."
The warrant officer looks like he wants to say something but he keeps it to himself.
Josh grits his teeth over the noise of the gun and glances toward the hill. "We gotta do something about that gatling gun," he mutters, slightly breathless from adrenaline and pain.
Sam looks at him again and smirks slightly. "Hey," he says, waiting until the younger man looks up again. "We're even now; you know, for the horse. You don't owe me anything."
Josh coughs out a laugh. "Yeah? Well, you owe me something." The pain is making him reckless, or maybe it's the blood loss, but either way he's coming up with a really ridiculous plan. Forty pounds of bad ideas and dumb luck.
Sam frowns in confusion. "What's that?"
"Cover," Josh says, not giving the other man a chance to answer before jumping up and running across the street to grab the nearest horse he could find. He hears Sam call out behind him, shout his name over the roar of gunfire, but Josh never slows down.
He steers the horse in the direction of the gatling gun, a pack of Bogue's men breaking away from the town and trailing along behind him. He doesn't slow down and he doesn't look back as they're picked off one by one. The others are watching his back, keeping his pursuers away from him and dropping them in the field as he rides on.
Josh pushes forward undaunted. He knows this is a one way trip and that in all likelihood he'll be killed before he ever gets close enough. He has to try though, even if it kills him he has to try. He just needs to get close enough to the gun-
Another bullet catches him in the upper chest, just beneath the collarbone and punching all the way through. The air is forced out of his lungs, both from the impact and from the bullet itself and the gasp that accompanies it is dull and breathy. The gasp turns into a growl and he tightens his grip on the reigns. Through some miracle he manages to stay upright and keeps pushing forward.
There's another shot and yet another bullet, this one striking a little further down. It punches through his vest but deflects off something (a button maybe? That sheriff's badge he lifted off the town's corrupt official?) because it doesn't go all the way through. It's buried deep in the muscles of his chest, not deep enough to pierce the lung but the impact was enough to shatter two of his ribs. This one slows him down and he loosens his grip on the reigns, groaning heavily and slumping. He can't hold on anymore and he feels himself sliding, slipping, falling...
He lands flat on his back in the middle of the field, air knocked out of him and struggling to breathe. He lays there for several painful seconds, staring at the sky and forcing himself to stay conscious. He vaguely wonders if this is where he's going to die, if this is where it ends, but that can't be it because he still has a job to finish.
With a heavy, pained grunt, he pulls himself upright and begins the slow, painful stagger toward the gun. Bogue's men watch him approach, their guns trained on his every move. One of them shoots again, catching him in the leg and causing him to go down heavily.
He falls to his knees and doesn't get up again, pain and exhaustion hitting him like a tidal wave. The men continue to watch him and he thinks for a second they might just shoot him in the head and be done with it but they don't. It occurs to him they're enjoying the show.
He slumps on his knees and sits back on his heels, fishing one final cigarette out of his pocket. If this is how he's going to go, then so be it. The lighter sputters and flickers and won't light. Piece of junk…
One of Bogue's men steps forward and offers him a light, the final kind act for a dying man. They'll kill him the second they're done, he knows it. He just won't give them the chance.
He slumps forward and touches the end of his cigarette to the fuse on the dynamite stick he'd kept hidden in his holster. He sits back up slowly, the dynamite hot and ready in his hand.
"I always did have good luck with one-eyed Jacks," he says with a pained, ironic grin. He hears one of the men shout a warning about the dynamite right as he throws it. It sails over their heads and lands just behind their wagon, exploding on impact.
The blast is powerful and devastating and it engulfs both the wagon and Bogue's men in a shower of fire, dirt, and ash. Josh is sent flying backwards across the field, somersaulting through the air like a ragdoll. He had fully expected to be vaporized with the rest of Bogue's men but he underestimated his distance from the gun and ended up just getting tossed by the shockwave instead.
The world tilts and spins sickeningly before he's dropped onto the hard, unforgiving dirt fifty feet away. It takes several long seconds of staring up at the smoke and dust filled sky for him to realize he's not dead. He should be, about a hundred times over he should be, but he's not. Not yet at least.
He can't hear anything (he's pretty sure both ear drums were blown out by the explosion) and he can't move more than a few fingers and toes at a time. Both legs are shattered but remarkably still attached and he can feel his feet (painful as that is) so he knows he's not paralyzed.
He can't move though, his injuries too severe and extensive to allow him the freedom of movement. Between the bullet wounds and the broken bones and the certainty of some kind of internal bleeding, he couldn't move even if he wanted to. Just as well, really...he'll probably succumb to his injuries in a few minutes anyway. He did what he set out to do and that's all that mattered.
The smoke clears slowly overhead and Josh focuses on a single wispy cloud directly above him. He's broken and bleeding all over but his body is in such a state of shock that he barely even feels it. He's content to lay here in this field and die peacefully, his mission accomplished and the town possibly saved. This is as good a place to die as any and he'll take what he can get.
Except he doesn't die. The minutes stretch into hours and he lingers, hovering somewhere just between life and death and everything in between. He doubts he's actually alive anymore, there's no way he could be after everything he'd been through. He's pretty sure he's nothing but a body with a few frayed strings of life still attached to it. Even if he is still somewhat alive, there's no way he can survive for much longer. Death is inevitable by this point.
When evening comes, his breathing begins to dip and stutter even more than it had before and thinks this must be it. He's not afraid and he doesn't have any regrets; he's made his peace with all of this and he's ready to see what the afterlife has in store. The sky above him blurs, hazy images of clouds and trees and shapes that mean nothing. He closes his eyes and lets himself go, thinking it's finally over.
That today was the end of Joshua Faraday.
That is until he regains consciousness inside of the pine box the townspeople buried him in.
One more chapter to go! Thanks for reading guys! :D