Summary: Missing scene from Running Man after Joe got shot while he and Candy barricade themselves in jail in Butlerville along with an important witness.
Rating: PG Word count: 1500
Candy`s Knife
After the shot rang out, I felt a dull thud as if a horse had kicked me. My arm went numb, and my legs buckled. Disoriented, I found myself face down on the jail floor, my cheek pressed against the cold stone, wondering what had happened. A door was thrown open, and I heard the sound of trampling footsteps next to me.
"Joe, dang it, what happened?" It was Candy`s voice, but I didn`t manage to answer him.
Now came the pain! It was a hot pain in my upper left arm, like someone pressing a blazing branding iron into my flesh. Hands grabbed my shoulders, turning me onto my back while my arm dangled uselessly. An agonized groan escaped me. As if through a thick fog, I was aware of my surroundings. My eyes were still closed, and the sound of tearing fabric reached my ears.
"Let's get him on the cot," Candy said, pulling me to my feet, which, strange enough, obeyed me as little as my tongue.
I've had my share of gunshot wounds, but it's still shocking. Your previous functioning body collapses. Only then does the bang reach your ears. Your heart races like a panicked horse, pumping blood through the veins. Your instinct is to run, but you're paralyzed from the shock of the bullet's impact and the subsequent loss of blood.
Feeling the sagging straw mattress beneath me, I blinked and looked around. I first saw Barbara standing beside the cot with her shaking hands clasped over her mouth. Now Candy leaned over me, his dark eyes flashing. "Well, are you back again?"
"What ...?" I stammered, clearing my throat.
"One of Butler's men shot you through the window. I guess he wanted to kill Jess to get the witness out of the way. Too bad for you, Joe, that he got you mixed up."
I moaned and turned my head to check my injury. Candy had ripped the sleeve off my shoulder, but all I could see was bloodstained skin. The bullet had gone through the back of my upper arm, and if I was lucky, it had only torn through the flesh.
"How bad?"
"Not too bad, but the bullet's still in there." He untied his handkerchief and placed it on the wound, causing me to flinch, then took my right hand and laid it on the fabric. "Press hard, it's bleeding! I'll go get the doctor!"
"No ... Doc ... too dangerous!"
"Have it your way, Joe, but the bullet has to come out."
I laid my head back and nodded my agreement. Candy was somebody to trust. He always knew what to do, and he had skilled hands and a sharp mind, coupled with his typical brand of sarcastic humor. It wasn't that Candy didn't take the gunshot wound seriously, but the circumstances didn't dampen his good mood. He had compassion but showed it in his own way by using humor to soften the gravity of the situation. My friend had a positive attitude, was loyal, and was always up for a joke or two. He was much closer to me than Adam had ever been.
Barbara had recovered her composure and began searching the sheriff's office for bandages. I felt her concerned gaze flicker over me as she placed a water bowl on the floor beside me.
"I'm fine. Don't worry." I whispered in a husky voice.
I watched as Candy pulled his jackknife with the horn handle out of his pocket and opened it. When my eyes fell on the shiny blade, I had to suppress a shudder. I knew all too well what it felt to have my flesh cut without anesthetic, but Candy was right. The bullet had to be removed. We must hold out until the circuit judge and marshal arrived in Butlerville the next day, and it wasn't wise to leave the wound untreated that long.
Candy gave the knife a doubtful look and shrugged. I heard water splashing when he dipped it into the bowl for a makeshift cleaning. Yesterday, he used it to pry a rock from under his horse's shoe and later to gut and skin a rabbit we shot for dinner on the way to town.
He stood. "I'd better hold the blade over the flames. We don't want any infection."
Ever since I had known him, he`d carried that jackknife. I remembered our first encounter when Pa, Hoss, and I escorted the Paiute Wabuska to the fort together with soldiers. Indians had surrounded us, and Candy came stumbling into the camp, even grinning in this hopeless situation. He had lost his horse, was hungry, and speared the canned peaches we offered him with his knife.
Weeks later, in front of the tent where the Paiutes held Mary Burns captive, he used the knife to disable the Indian guard. That was an exciting action! While Candy freed the woman, I swam across the lake and chased the Indians' horses away.
"Joe, are you all right? Don't drift off!"
"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine."
When we hid Charles Ball on the Ponderosa because the bandits he was going to testify against wanted to kill him, Candy again saved my life. I had fallen into the hands of the five men, and they wanted to trade me for Ball. Pa, Hoss, and Candy made a risky rescue and cut me loose from the tree I was tied to.
"Do you want to stay?" My friend asked Barbara, who stood near the door, looking rather pale.
"No, I think I'll wait outside if you don't need my help."
"Yeah, I guess what I'm about to do isn't a sight for a lady! We can manage by ourselves, can't we, Joe?" laughed Candy as he tore a piece of cloth from one of the scarves Barbara had found.
"Bite on it!" He shoved the scrap between my teeth and looked me in the eye. "Ready?"
I nodded, even though it was a lie.
"Then I'm going to play doctor. Remember the deserted Sergeant? He also had a bullet in his arm, and I removed it with my knife." He took my wrist and pulled it over my head. "The angle will be better if you bend your arm like this. I try not to cause too much damage."
"Gee, thanks, Candy, that's exactly what I wanted to hear," I murmured around the fabric.
As my friend began probing around the wound, I turned my head to the wall, concentrating on the dirty joints between the bricks. My teeth dug deep into the cloth when the cold steel penetrated my flesh. Panting, I clutched my left elbow to keep the arm still, trying to relax, but I couldn't stop my muscles from shaking. Hot and sharp, the pain coursed through me, and it took every ounce of my will not to slap Candy`s hand away. Oh my God, what was he doing, using a spoon?
Groaning, I bit down harder on the fabric, which seemed to suck all the moisture out of my mouth. My legs moved in agony. 'Hurry up, Candy,' I thought, squinting my eyes as drops of sweat gathered on my face.
"Damn, everything's slippery!" I heard my friend curse, his fingers digging for the bullet. My breath accelerated, and black spots danced behind my closed lids like ashes in a forest fire. I smelled coppery blood and felt Candy's hand on my shoulder.
"Breathe slowly, Joe, I'll get it!"
Just as I was about to spit out the piece of cloth and scream, I heard the redeeming words: "Done!"
Like the rag doll I had given to deaf Annie, my body went limp with relief.
"Let's get you cleaned up, then you'll get a nice bandage with a pretty bow," our foreman teased as he helped me sit up.
I took in a deep breath. Candy needed my support, and I couldn't just lie down and rest. Although the pain still raged in my shoulder like a wild bronco under a rider, I tried to smile.
"Thanks, Candy, you were almost as good as a doctor."
"I know! " My friend grinned and wrapped several white linen strips around the wound, tying a nice bow as promised.
"I think your knife is dull!" With eyebrows drawn together, I looked at the ragged, bloodstained blade.
Candy had a broad grin. "I wanted to spare you the details. I knew it was dull, but it served me well until now."
"How's Joe doing?" I heard Barbara call out from the front room.
"He's hurting right now, but he's gonna be okay."
"Do you mind if I come in? I made coffee, and we could all use some."
I hoped my smile was convincing. "Coffee sounds like a good idea, although I'd prefer whiskey now!" I stood, my legs as shaky as a newborn colt's, wiped the sweat from my brow, and returned to my observation post by the window.
The End
More Joe-centric fanfic at
Episodes referenced:
Running Man (written by Ward Hawkins)
The Deserter (written by Norman Lessing)
Silent Thunder (written by John Furia)
Sense of Duty (written by John Hawkins, Gil Laskey)
Desperate Passage (written by John Hawkins)
A World Full of Cannibals (written by Preston Wood)
False Witness (written by Eric Norden)