Chapter 7

Blessed Be the Damned

"Hear ye' Hear ye'. This court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Wolik presiding."

"Take your seats." He ordered as he was taking his own. The three accused were back in the courtroom facing the judge.

"On Tuesday, August 18th a Union Stage on route from Benton Falls to Hallows Point disappeared." The judge recapped for the court. "Out of the six passengers on board that stage and one driver, only three made it out of that desert alive. In consideration to all the evidence presented to the court, the court finds that there is sufficient evidence to conclude that the four deceased had met their demise by extraordinary means. The court believes that they have met their demise by murder or foul play. Furthermore, we believe there to be sufficient evidence to hold one of the suspected over for trial." Mr. Henshaw and Ms. Hayden exchanged nervous glances but it was not they the judge singled out.

"Mr. Joseph Francis Cartwright." The court murmured aloud. "Will you please stand."

The young man took a gulp and stood before the judge.

Somehow, he knew this was coming. Of course, he was guilty. How could he have ever allowed himself to think that he was not? That he wouldn't get caught? That he would never have to face up to what he had done?

"Thus far, every bit of evidence we have points to you. You are facing allegations of murder. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that those are some pretty serious allegations." His body trembled and his face grew beet red as he was fighting back tears of red-hot emotion. "As of now, I believe there is sufficient evidence to hold you over for trial." The air had been pulled from his lungs. He caught himself from collapsing forward.

The father was grappling for his breath as well. Adam, who was sitting next to his pa, grabbed his arm to keep him still.

"Unless you have anything to say that might change my mind." He couldn't believe this was happening to him, again.

Adam stared on at his little brother. He was clearly holding something back. He knew what Ms. Hayden said couldn't be true. Why wasn't he defending himself?

Say something Joe. Say anything.

"Very well, trial will begin tomorrow at 8 o'clock a.m." Adam dropped his head, breathing out pained regret. "Court is adjourned."

This time Roy's sole focus was Joe, as he went right to him to take him back to his cell. It seemed Leon and Laurie were free to go as no one paid any mind to them.

If I condemn him, I too condemn myself. I condemn myself to always looking over my shoulder. Fearing the hour that death would come. Death and all hell's demons.

The judge gathered his reports and set to leave.

In condemning him, I condemn myself. Pandemonium would open its doors to receive me in.

"Excuse me, Your Honor." Henshaw stood. "If it pleases, I request permission to address the court." The judge who was halfway out of his chair, stopped and sat back. Humoring the victim of circumstance.

"Go ahead, Mr. Henshaw."

"Joseph Cartwright did not kill those people."

The court, who was already unsettled as they were set to leave, became unglued.

"Order, order in the court." The people regained their seats wondering what the judge's next play would be.

"Mr. Henshaw, I gave you your time. You had the chance to speak and chose to remain silent. The time for confessions is now over. At this point, if you'd like to speak on the defendant's behalf, your best bet is to speak to his attorney." He was ready to slam the gavel down again, making this decision final.

"Your Honor." Mr. Henshaw stopped him before it made contact. "If you just heard my story, you might find, that the trial for Mr. Joseph Cartwright to be wholly unjustified and in fact a gross misuse of taxpayer expenses." The judge took that remark as if Mr. Henshaw had slapped him over his left cheek. The judge was caught in a dilemma as he stared out among the spectators, who were poised and ready to hear how he would handle this remark. With a heavy sigh, he asked.

"Why now? Why haven't you said something sooner, when I gave you the chance?"

"To tell you the truth, Your Honor, I hadn't expected it to get this far."

"Alright, Mr. Henshaw. If for no other reason than to satisfy the curiosity of the court. I believe we would all like to know, sooner rather than later. I'll give you your time."

"Thank you, Your Honor. First I'd like to say that the driver."

"Mr. Henshaw." The judge stopped him.

"Yes?"

"Would you please take a seat in the witness chair?"

"Oh, yes Your Honor. Of course." He shuffled over and took the seat facing the court.

"Go on Mr. Henshaw."

"Yes. Well, as I was saying." He lost his words as he caught Laurie's wary and disapproving eye. "Yes….um…"

"Mr. Henshaw?"

Adam gleaned that Henshaw's sudden loss for words were on account of meeting the austere gaze of the young woman in the front row. What power does she hold over him?

"Uh…" He broke his gaze, trying to recall what it was he was saying. "Where was I?"

"You were talking about Mr. Barday. The driver."

"Oh yes. Mr. Barday." He kept his eyes away from her now. He could not tell the story he needed to tell, having to look at her. "He was not murdered." The court whispered among themselves.

"How did he die?" The judge asked peculiarly.

"He suffered a heart attack. We had reason to believe it was brought on by his excessive drinking, which he had no qualms with doing right there in the driver seat. If the doctor were to look for that, he might find the evidence to support this." The judge looked to Dr. Kleitser who nodded, agreeing he would look into it. "This was where our troubles truly began. We were about 7 hours from Benton Falls and about a half a day's ride to Hallows Point, when the stage flipped. The horses kept going, leaving us with no other choice but to walk out. After burying Mr. Barday and gathering what we were willing to carry, we set on our way."

"We discovered early on that Mr. Benson and Mr. Cartwright were the most experienced of the group. They were familiar with the terrain. We had left it to them to make all the decisions for us. The weather was alright the first day. Hot and breezy, but bearable. We had spent this first night under the stars. By the second day though, the winds had started to pick up. It became real bad, real fast. Knocking us this way and that and making the trek that much more arduous. Traveling was slower then."

"The men, familiar with the terrain as they were, had taken us to this line shack they knew of. We'd made it well before dark. I think they were just blessing us with a break from the elements. They knew that we wouldn't have had what it took to travel the whole day through those winds.

Joe had not rested long. He graciously went right back out in that weather to rally up some food. It was meager eating but more than any of us could have done on our own.

This was where we had spent the second night as it offered us our first reprieve.

We all felt pretty beat up by then. On edge. Tensions were high. People kept snapping at each other. Making rude remarks. Mr. Benson was exceptionally unpleasant. He had a beef with just about every one of us. With Joe, it had gotten physical."

This last claim had only caused the courtroom to look upon the young man with greater suspicion. Henshaw, well aware of this reaction, did not expound. He kept the story purposely linear. In doing so, his own position might be better understood. Still he considered. If they thought that last claim was a doozy this next revelation will flip them.

"We'd decided to call it quits and went to bed." He began again. "I woke up some time later to a scream."

The old man gulped as he went into himself, reliving that fear and confusion he felt upon that startling awakening and to what greeted him.

"Joe was leaning over the body with a knife in hand. Mrs. Whitley was screaming from the other side of the room at the sight. Mr. Benson was dead. He'd been stabbed. Killed with the knife Joe was holding."

The courtroom reacted pretty much how Henshaw had expected, jabbering loudly among themselves. Wolik had to use his gavel to get them back in line.

"The knife that belonged to Joe?" The judge asked.

"That's correct."

"This seems pretty substantial. I'd have to say, Mr. Henshaw, if you're here to help Joe, you're not doing a really good job."

The family agreed. Under the guise of helping, it seemed as if Leon was only trying to further the prosecution's case. They were angrier at him for it.

"Please, your honor, if you'd let me continue."

"Go on." The family was cautious to hear what more would come from his mouth.

"Joe and I buried the body. We then went back inside."

"Hold on." At this, the judge had to stop. "You were outside alone with Joe after what you saw him do?"

"Oh, well, I didn't see him do anything. As I said I was asleep."

"But he was holding the knife."

"Yes. The other's were suspicious of him naturally. I too initially. But Joe had insisted that he hadn't done what they all were accusing him of doing. That he'd just happened upon the body. He argued, that any one of us could have killed him and anyone of us could have stumbled upon the body same as him. He did have a point about that. None of us actually saw him do it and each one of us had just as much opportunity. The others might have been hard-pressed to go along with his acclamations but I had my reasons for trusting him then. Reasons that I couldn't then readily explain."

"Okay, so you took him out there with you."

"I had to. That was the only way of keeping him safe. The way the others were looking upon him. Getting him out of that room was the best thing for him. The other's had remained behind to console Ms. Whitley, as she was quite hysterical."

"So when you did make it back into the room?"

"So when we did make it back, the discussion started right back up on who might have done it. It would stand to reason, that it would be one of us. Joe, I guess knowing how he was being looked upon, had searched the body for clues before we put him in the hole, I guess looking for anything that might exonerate him. His search wasn't all for naught because he had discovered that Mr. Benson's billfold had been emptied. His money was missing. You see, before Benson had died, he had bragged about being a rich man. He had told us of the thousands he was carrying with him. It was assumed that the murderer, whoever it may be, had taken it. When Joe mentioned this to the others, accusations were made. Everyone started accusing everyone. We were just going in circles. We had all agreed to go back to bed and discuss it the next morning but as Joe walked away, Mr. DeSoto hit him in the back of the head with the butt of his gun, knocking him cold."

The family looked at Joe then wondering why he had hid this from them. All they could see was the back of his head now. There was a wound hidden in those curls from an assault so serious that it made him lose consciousness.

"His excuse for doing this, was as you had mentioned, your honor. Joe was found over the body, holding the weapon that killed him. It all came back to that and that was enough to convict him in the others minds."

"While Joe was unconscious, we tied him with rope we had found in the cabin."

This was definitely hard for the family to hear. What was happening to their boy when he was in no position to defend himself.

"Mr. DeSoto thought we should hang him right then and there, so he wouldn't be any more trouble."

The father grimaced and gulped allowing the fear of losing his boy to ill affect him.

"He didn't want to risk keeping a killer in our presence. The only reason we hadn't was that the rope we used to tie his hands and feet was the only rope we could find and they lacked the length needed to do the job."

By God's grace.

"We agreed that when the sun was up and we had the light to aid us, we would search the grounds for more."

Ben rubbed fingers against his forehead trying not to let the severity affect him.

"We left Joe tied up like this and went back to bed."

"I awoke not too long after. Mr. DeSoto and Ms. Whitley were arguing now with Ms. Hayden. Joe was awake by this time and was sitting against the wall. They were accusing Ms. Hayden of conspiring with Joe, which she denied, at first. Joe convinced us that he wasn't interested in escape like they were accusing. That his intent was finding the real killer. He then went around the room absolving the others, but stopped at me, concluding that I, out of the rest of them, would be the most capable. DeSoto began to entertain the idea that it might have actually been me. Ms. Hayden shut it down. She admitted right then, that Joe really had confessed to her. That it really was he that had killed Mr. Bentley. That he had asked her to help him escape and had offered to share in the money. She said, she really was considering it. That was until he started accusing innocent people. She said she couldn't stand by and let that happen."

The Cartwright's sat in a stale shock. This testimony was damning to Joe's case. Why would he say that? This couldn't be true. The court had become lively. They knew well enough, the spectators had formed their opinion and it wasn't in Joe's favor.

"Now it was ever more apparent Joe had done the killing." Leon continued. "Again DeSoto wanted to hang Joe right then but without rope there wasn't much we could do. DeSoto suggested shooting Joe, someone else brought up stabbing him as Mr. Benson had been stabbed."

Ben's stomach was doing flips, thinking about the myriad of ways they wanted to execute his son. Why didn't Joe tell them any of this?

"I knew by then we were acting irrationally, off of our exhaustion. I told them all we should go back to bed. They all agreed though none of us could really sleep the rest of the night."

It pained Ben to think of how many times his son's life was threatened in that short epoch of time. How close they came to losing their youngest, time and again. With them being at home, none the wiser to the toils their boy was facing.

"When daylight came Desoto went out, determined to find some hanging rope."

Ben closed his eyes as he took a breath. He had to remind himself that his boy was here now, safe. They hadn't done to him what they wanted to.

"I went out to join him. We left the women inside to watch over Joe. We searched the grounds but came up empty. What we had found in the cabin was all there was."

By the grace of God. He prayed again.

"DeSoto had settled on shooting Joe."

Ben rocked forward. Adam caught his pa by the arm, keeping him from coming off the chair. He hadn't expected this move but was quick on reflex. He and Hoss were having a difficult time hearing this admonition but looking at his pa now, he realized his struggles were advancing far beyond their own.

Feeling Adams hand pressing into his bicep Cartwright caught the subtle concerned look of his eldest. He nodded to him assuring he would do better at checking himself.

"Bring him out and put one bullet to the back of his head. It wasn't clean, but considering our want for options, it was the best one we had."

They all looked out as Henshaw said this. Hoss's face turned up in a screw. Ben worked to compose himself for their sake but by this time, he was really starting to feel hatred for this dead man.

"DeSoto turned back to go get him and bring him out but I had stopped him. You see, it was just then that I realized, we still needed Joe. Mr. Benson and Mr. Cartwright were the only experienced ones when it came to the land we were in. They were the only two that knew the way out. Now Mr. Benson was dead. I knew that if we killed Cartwright, then the rest of us might never find our way. We'd be lost in that desert forever. Mr. DeSoto was hard-pressed to go along. We argued about it for some time. He believed if we stayed the course we've been taking, that eventually we would hit the town. He didn't understand how easy it would be to miss an entire town just by being a degree off-course. The winds had picked back up as we debated but even having to face this all alone wasn't enough to sway him. In fact, there were no words that I could say that could convince him. What finally did it were not my words at all. It was God's intervention. Such a small gesture but it had made a big impact. When DeSoto grabbed for his canteen, the one he had taken out there with us, he found that it had been filled with sand instead of water. You see, he'd carelessly left the lid off as we were searching and this was the result. An experienced man wouldn't have made that mistake. Joe wouldn't have made that mistake. That was enough for him to realize how foolish it would be to try and carry on without him. We were all novices. We didn't have any other choice but to keep him alive. For our own sake. He went to Joe then. He told him the new plan. That he was going to lead us out. Joe seemed less than willing to go along but before he could debate DeSoto made it clear that this was his only saving grace. He was going to lead us out or die. Understanding this, Joe had no choice but to agree."

"He tried for water then. Being trussed up as he was, he'd gone the whole night and well into the morning without it. I'd imagine he'd be quite thirsty not having the access to it that the rest of us had. DeSoto's response would set the stage for how Joe's treatment was to go. He..."

Henshaw stopped to consider before he began again. "I think it's important to enlighten, that during the trek DeSoto wasn't as cautious about conserving water as Joe and Benson thought he ought to be. That was one of the things they argued about. They knew the journey would be long and we would need the water to get us through. DeSoto didn't have a mind for this sort of thing, you know, and was angry at them both for being called out on his heedlessness. Now that DeSoto had the power, he had made it clear to Joe right then, that he now controlled when Joe drank and how much. Payback, if you will. Joe had just been trying to save us, I knew. All of us. But that's not how DeSoto saw it."

It pained Ben to hear this testimony. How daunting all this must have been for Joe. The boy who was now sitting in the front row with his head low. Furthermore, it pained him that he was hearing all this for the first time through the mouth of some stranger. He'd kept this all inside. Why? He asked himself again. Why did his son feel that he couldn't tell him?

"I saw something in Joe then that I didn't want to see." Henshaw admitted with some heartbreak. "Innocence. Despite this boy's years of experience in worldly knowledge, there was a child still within."

He'd seen what they all had seen everyday; living with him, growing up with him. Something that this whole town or anyone who'd gotten a chance to know him gets to see. His youthful, beautiful, innocence.

"I turned away. I couldn't see it. I couldn't see what we were doing to him. What more we would do. I didn't want to look. Because if I did, then I might not have had what it took to continue."

"I gathered my strength as DeSoto and the girls needed me. With Joe tied as he was, he couldn't lift himself without help. We lifted him, untied his ankles so he could walk but kept his hands bound for control. It was in this manner that we forced him to lead us out."

"But he didn't take us out." Laurie spurned before anyone could dwell too heavily on Joe's misery. "He took us to Buckskin Cavern to die!. He was going to kill all of us to save himself!"

"Hold on. You put your trust into someone after you accused him of murder?" The judge asked perplexed.

"There was no one else. There was no other way." The elder explained.

"So instead of leading you out, he took you to Buckskin?"

"That's right."

Adam covered his mouth to hide his smile. Inside he was beaming with pride. If this was what his brother had been holding on to, he should have been proud of himself. Adam was proud for him.

"We were all so tired by the time we had gotten there. We were all just so grateful for the rest. Joe should have relished in rest too but instead offered to go back out and hunt for food. Perhaps offering this in hopes of being released and given freedom to run away." Joe raised his head to look at the witness not giving indication whether this was the truth. Henshaw wasn't looking for the truth now. It didn't influence his testimony. "This must have been what DeSoto thought too." He continued. "because he refused this offer, and went out to get food himself. Unfortunately, he had no experience in these matters and came back hours later empty handed. Seeing us in our misery, this was when Joe had chosen to admit to us this horrible secret of his. That this cavern was not our refuge. It was our ruin. He told us that 'he had led us so far into the wilderness that we'd never be able to find our way out on our own'. Why he hadn't said this when we first arrived at that cavern? It was as if he needed us to see DeSoto fail. He needed us to know how lost we were without him. He told us 'that's where we'd stay until the real killer confessed.'"

"Is this true?" The judge directed the question to the young man who glanced at him for a mere second. Feeling the heat of accusation, he dropped his head in shame. Getting his answer, the magistrate turned back to the witness who took the cue to continue.

"DeSoto wanted to put a knife in his throat right then, but we still needed him. I was holding on to the hope that he would still save us. We spent the rest of the night in that cavern with no food and very little water. Out of the four canteens we started out with, by the next morning, we were halfway through our last one. Without the killer's confession, we weren't moving from that spot. The killer kept silent. We were all beginning to give up. I feared none of us had much longer to live. I also knew that out of all of us, Joe would be the first to go. He'd been the longest without water. Roberto made certain that not a drop was shared with him. However thirsty we were, I knew Joe was thirstier."

The family mourned for what their youngest had been forced to endure. He was practically tortured for a crime he'd never committed. Though it had yet to be determined who the real killer was, they knew it from the bottom of their hearts that it had not been Joe. There was no way it could have ever been Joe. Even with his fiery temper, he could never be capable of cold-blooded murder. He had too much love for humanity, for life; for that ever to have been him.

"He did it to himself." Ms. Hayden remonstrated. "He was willing to kill all of us, for one guilty man."

The judge disregarded her passion bringing it back to the facts.

"Mr. DeSoto and Ms. Whitley were found dead from a gunshot wound." He prompted. "It was clear that want for water was not the way they perished. Could you explain how this came to be?"

"I believe this, your honor, may be why Joe has yet to defend himself."

"So, he is the killer?"

"Mr. Desoto blamed Joe for the situation we were in." He explained. "DeSoto was angry and desperate. He'd finally had enough. He snapped and attacked Joe."

Mr. Henshaw lowered his head as if he was ashamed to say what came next.

"Joe's hands were still tied. He couldn't ward off the attack. He beat Joe. Brutally." The aging witness fought his own tears of shame. "I watched. I let it happen, because I wanted Joe to break."

His jaw was tight with this admission. He looked at the boy, whose head was sunken. The boy, who still seemed to be in that cavern, warding off those blows.

"He never did break. He took it. I was going to watch him be beaten to death. Even if he didn't break, somehow, I thought it would be justified, because of what he did to us." He'd dropped his eyes dejectedly as he attested. "Even still, there was a small part of me that knew it was wrong, but I didn't stop it." He gulped. "The angrier part won out. The part that wanted vengeance."

The court was still and silent, perhaps for the first time, feeling this kid's pain. Whether he was guilty of this crime had yet to be determined but his sufferings more than warranted compassion.

"Somewhere along the way, I guess Joe knew he was going to die. I didn't think he had anything left in him. No water in all this time, hands bound as they were. I don't know where it came from, but he found something somewhere deep inside. Something I didn't know he had. He fought DeSoto. Fought him for his life. With everything he had left in him. Remarkably, it had worked. Somehow, he'd gotten the upper hand. I don't know how, but he'd beaten DeSoto. Came out victorious."

"He killed him?"

"No." He was quick to explain. "DeSoto was still alive but the fight was done."

The first smile had entered the hearts of his kin. Joe's first reprieve had come. Though hard fought, he had finally won his freedom. He would be getting out of there.

But Henshaw had just as quickly shut down this sanguine.

"I knew what I had to do. As he stood over DeSoto, I ran inside and grabbed the gun. I didn't want Joe thinking that just because he'd beaten DeSoto, he had won his freedom."

The heart of the pater squeezed again.

"I regained control and ordered Joe back inside. After all, he was still our prisoner. The one we had collectively chosen to take the fall."

With everything that their boy had to endure. How he fought, when he had nothing left to fight with; only to be forced back into the darkness. Ben felt the darkness grave his own thoughts.

"It was never my idea to keep water from Joe. It was DeSoto's. Now that he wasn't in a position to stop us, I let Joe drink. He may not have earned his freedom but after the fight, he had at least earned that. Besides, without it, I feared the boy might just fall right there and give up on living. Ms. Hayden had given up trying to protect me at that point. She told me to give Joe the money. Hoping it would buy his cooperation."

"What money?"

"Mr. Benson's. The money that went missing."

"So, you killed Mr. Benson?" The judge asked incredulous. Let the murmuring start.

"No." He shut it down. "But it was then that I discovered that Ms. Hayden believed that I had. This whole time she thought it had been me that had murdered him. When she had accused Joe, it was because she thought I had done it and was trying to protect me."

"Protect you? If she thought you were the murderer, then why in God's name, would she want to protect you?" Henshaw looked to the young woman who poised mournfully, with her head in her hands, at the edge of her seat. She looked up to answer this question.

"Because, he's my father." She puled.

"And an ex-convict." Mr. Henshaw said of himself. The courtroom erupted. All but for the young man who had been through too much. This had not surprised Joe. He knew this already. This was the secret he'd been holding on to. He was still willing to go down for them, even after what they'd done to him.

"If people knew about him, he would have been the one they accused. I just got him back. I didn't want to lose him again."

"I'm wanted in Texas."

"For a crime he didn't commit. He's innocent."

"Nobody ever believes an ex-con. Apparently, even my own daughter thought I was guilty."

"So, you let Joe take the fall." The judge addressed Ms. Hayden. "To protect Mr. Henshaw whom you assumed had committed the crime?"

"If they caught him, he'd be hung."

"Okay, so who was the murderer?"

"Ms. Whitley came in with a gun drawn on all of us. We didn't even know she had a gun until that moment. Mr. DeSoto was standing behind her. She'd grabbed the last of the water and handed the gun over to him. You see, the first night under the stars, we'd discovered that Mr. Benson and Ms. Whitley had been in a relationship. One that was long dead now, as Mr. Benson had no qualms with expressing exactly how he felt about her and he didn't care who heard. He was down-right cruel. The way he treated her was heartbreaking. The way she carried herself was like that of a beaten dog. Mr. DeSoto stood up to Benson but had stopped at his threat. After Benson's murder, DeSoto and Whitley had grown closer. She was protective of her new love. After the fight with Joe, seeing DeSoto beaten like he was, she'd decided that they were going to take off together. Leave the rest of us there to die. I couldn't let that happen. I chased after them with Cartwright's gun. I told them to stop and DeSoto turned to me and fired a shot. She, believing I would shoot him had gotten in the pathway of the bullet. He gathered her in his arms, held her, offered her comfort. He told her, that he knew all along that she had been the murderer. She was surprised that he knew. Their love for each other cemented evermore. You see, Mr. DeSoto protected her secret, as Ms. Hayden, thought she was protecting mine. It would have been a tragically romantic end to their story, if DeSoto hadn't made the mistake of asking her, where she had hidden the money. Something changed in her just then. A type of realization that the only reason DeSoto had protected her secret was because he wanted at the money. Whether that were really true, who could know? I believe he might have actually begun to love her, but Ms. Whitley had been so jaded, so hurt by the way Mr. Benson treated her, it was hard for her to believe she was capable of being loved. Mr. DeSoto couldn't take that question back. Once it was out there, he couldn't undo those words. She put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. He died still holding her. She told us then, that there was never any money. Benson liked to tell people he was a rich man, but it wasn't true. She said, 'he died a poor man'. Those were her last words."

The air was heavy in the courtroom.

"Let me get this straight." The judge had no choice but to make sense of this all. "Ms. Hayden accused Joe to protect you." Mr. Henshaw nodded subtly in affirmation. "And Mr. DeSoto accused Joe, to protect Ms. Whitley?"

"That's correct."

"So, all this time, with everything that was done to this young man, three people honestly believed Joe to be innocent?"

"Yes."

Ms. Hayden felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Without the others there she would be forced to stand in for all three. The judge refrained from asking how far she would have let it get. If it came to it, would she have let him die? That was an answer he just didn't need to hear. After all, you can't convict someone based on what they might have done.

"Tell me this. The murder weapon, the knife, was found above the cavern. How did it get up there?"

~.~

After they died Joe went right back into the cavern. There had been water in there gliding down the wall where he'd sat. He'd sucked off it when he'd first found it. After his long trek. Touched his face against it. There wasn't enough there for a gulp but it moistened his tongue. Again, he found himself back at that spot. The others hadn't seen him do this before. If they had they might have stopped him. With only two of them left, instead of stopping him, they joined him. They touched their tongues to the rock. Licked at it like dogs. Pressed their faces against it. They felt like animals but dismissed their actions. Now, with them being thirsty as they were, was not the time to let pride stand in their way. There was not enough of the water to get to the back of their throats.

"We've got to find the source."

"What?" The lady looked up at him.

"This water. It's got to be coming from somewhere." His ropes they hadn't even thought of removing them. They were all so preoccupied with their own thirst. Joe staggered out of the cavern and looked above the entryway. He had to climb it. He examined the best way up. He steadied his foot and lifted himself. Though his binds offered him some resistance he'd been climbing trees and hills his whole life. Skill, desperation and steely determination aided him. A moment later he was on top of the rock laying now to gather his strength. The others climbed up to join him.

Moisture was soaking through his back. He rolled over and examined the wet ground in which he lay. He followed this wet dirt over to a sage bush. Water pooled above the surface of the sand under its shade. He pressed his cupped hands making an impression in the dirt and pulled up the equivalent of a tablespoon and drank from it. Finally, enough to hit his throat but still not enough to pass it. He dug into the earth throwing aside wet dirt. Water filled the hole about cup size now. He stuck his face in and drank it greedily but it did not disappear. More liquid filled the empty crevasse. He continued to throw aside dirt with purpose and desperation. Laurie touched the binds that held his wrist, stilling his mad movements. She was going to stop him from drinking. Push him aside and take it for herself. Taking her cue, Leon came forward. He pulled a knife from his boot and went to Joe. Joe retreated in fear. Leon took hold of Joe's binds and pulled them forward. He sawed at them until they snapped and gave way. The boy rubbed at his now free wrist. It felt weird to have full mobility again. Freedom of movement. He'd almost gotten used to their presence. Adapted to them. Forgotten they were there.

The woman began to dig making the hole wider. Joe went back in to help. The man used the handle of the knife and dug from where he sat, completing the triangle and making the hole ever wider. He threw it aside now paying no mind to where it landed. The water was lush, filling the hole. They all filled their cupped hands and drank greedily. The water went down their throat's moistening their dry tonsils. "The canteen. We need the canteen." Joe finally rasped. They would need to start their walk as soon as they could. If they stayed any longer to rest, they might not ever gather the strength they would need to leave this place of false security. This refuge would be their final resting place. The canteen had been left below. The older gentleman took up the charge to retrieve it. The other two continued to dig and drink as they did.

~.~

The air was heavy in the courtroom. Had justice been served? It was a tragic end for all involved and pinpointing a guilty party was a subjectively impossible task. What was certain, was none in that courtroom before them had been directly tied to any of their murders. Though they could now see why the guilt might plague them all.

"In light of the testimony given by Mr. Henshaw, I find that the prosecution at this time does not have sufficient evidence to hold any of the accounted over for trial. I order their immediate release. I find this court adjourned." Joe's exculpation had lifted an incredible weight from the family.

The courthouse began clearing out amidst fervor. Father and brothers went to join Joe, showing their support with pats on the back, showering him with love and praise. The special agent came over from the prosecutor's desk.

"I don't get to say this too often, at least not to the men I try to put away, but congratulations. This is one time I can say, I'm happy to have lost. " He never questioned Joe as to why he hadn't just saved everybody this travesty and just admitted to what had happened. Somehow, he knew, not to ask. Looking at the boy now with his eyes dark and shoulders heavy, he just knew.

Joe sat piteously. He didn't feel victorious. He may have been cleared by this court, but a higher court still held him guilty.

"I'm sorry Joe." It was Mr. Henshaw who was at his side now, but his words fell upon deaf ears. Henshaw smiled apologetically at the family. Ms. Hayden tugged at the arm of her father pulling him away.

"Mr. Henshaw." Roy stopped him in the aisle. "I'd like to have a word with you." After all, he was still a wanted fugitive.

"No. Please no!" Ms. Hayden puled. Her cries were like claws on Joe's soul. The family could see how he was affected, in the way he scrunched his brows. His heart is sometimes too big, for his own good.

"It's okay." Henshaw cajoled. The sheriff escorted the father out of the courthouse. Hayden never left her father's side.

"Come on Joe. Let's go home."