It feels as though the world falls away around Slim, all he can hear the thudding of his own frantic heart in his ears as he takes aim and pulls the trigger, only a few seconds behind the first shot but far too late to do any good. The bullet hits Albers high in the arm and he falters, eyes flying up the slope towards where Slim is hiding with a sort of dazed expression on his face. Keeping his rifle levelled Slim scrambles out from behind his cover, picking his way through the scree field as quickly as he can without falling and sliding half the ways down as it is. Jess still hasn't moved by the time he makes it to the bottom, lying perfectly still where he'd fallen. Albers hasn't moved either, gun held slackly in one hand, the other pressed against his bloodied arm. He's not looking at Slim anymore, just staring at Jess's body like he can't quite understand what's happened.
"Drop the gun!" Slim barks, putting himself in between the two men, his rifle aimed squarely at Albers' chest. Albers starts, looking up at Slim with wide haunted eyes. After a moment he does, the pistol slipping from lax fingers.
"He didn't even draw on me, why wouldn't he draw?" He whispers. Slim risks a glance back to see that it's true, that damn pearl-handled .45 still in Jess's holster, untouched, and he feels his stomach turn. There's no way Albers would have been fast enough to outdraw Jess entirely, not unless Jess hadn't even tried.
"I reckon Jess has had just about enough of killing." Slim says grimly, a terrible sort of understanding settling in him. Zachariah nods slowly. He doesn't look so scary the way he had when he rode into Slim's yard two weeks ago anymore. Just sort of run down and sad, no fire in those blue eyes any longer. Slim starts to wonder if he'd really come here to kill a man, or if he'd come here to die.
"You know I've never shot someone before." Albers says slowly, his face pale. "Thought I wouldn't have a chance hearing how fast he was and all, but I figured I had to try or else what kind of brother would I be?" He looks at Slim, at the gun in his hands. "Are you going to kill me now?" There isn't much fear in his face at the thought, more resignation. Slim thinks then of what Jess had said only a little while ago, if someone up and shot me, or Andy, said it was self-defense, you think you'd be able to let it go just like that? It would be easy, he thinks, to be angry, but it wouldn't be right.
"I'm not going to kill you. There's been enough bloodshed, I don't have the stomach for any more. Figure it's not what Jess would want either, seeing as he didn't shoot you himself. No, get back on your horse and ride outta here. Don't care much which direction, just so long as I don't see your face again." He says tiredly instead, wishing for nothing more then to check on his friend, to know if he's even still breathing. Albers nods, confusion and hope and maybe gratitude all warring his face.
"Thank you." He murmurs, backing slowly away from Slim towards his horse. It takes him a moment to get into the saddle, struggling to do it one-armed. Once he's settled he gathers the reins in his good hand, but pauses before he turns the horse away. "I'm sorry 'bout your friend. And I'm sorry for my brother too." Slim is suprised to find he thinks the other man means it. Then, with a last glance behind Slim's shoulder to where Jess is lying he digs his heels in to his mounts flank, heading off down the trail the way he came.
Slim doesn't bother to watch him go, dropping the rifle and turning back to where Jess is still laying with his heart in his throat. There's blood in the dirt now, spreading out from under Jess thick and coppery, but none on his back, meaning the bullet's still in him. Dropping to his knees he rolls Jess over, grunting a little as he tries to shift the man's dead weight. The front of Jess's shirt is drenched in red and his face is pale and slack.
"Oh god, Jess."
Slim breathes shakily, the words near about punched out of him at the sight. Jess looks dead, he might be dead. Taking a trembling breath Slim steels himself, knowing that no amount of preparation could be sufficient to brace him for the blow of what he might find, before Slim leaning down to put his head against Jess's chest. It takes a long second before he hears it, the faintest thud of a pulse, and his own stumbles a beat in reply.
Spurred now into frantic movement Slim rips his kerchief from his neck and starts to unbutton Jess's shirt, searching for the bullet hole. There's so much blood it takes him a second to find it and he winces when he does; the bullet had caught him high in the chest, just above his heart. It's a bad spot to be hit, Slim has seen men die from wounds like this before, seen them die quick. Shaking the morbid thought off he focuses on the task at hand, shoving the kerchief into Jess's shirt and tearing off the tails of his shirt to tie it off with. He's pretty sure Jonsey had packed bandages in his saddlebags, but Alamo's off in the forest somewhere and he's scared to leave Jess alone, afraid that by the time he gets back he'll be gone. He can't bear the thought of Jess dying by himself like that.
"Come on, pard. Wake up, lemme see those blue eyes." Slim pleads, patting lightly at Jess's cool clammy cheek. Jess shifts away from the touch, a slight moan escaping his lips. Buoyed Slim keeps at it, gently urging his friend back into consciousness. "That's right, come on Jess, come on back."
After a long moment Jess's lids flutter open, gaze wandering blearily till he finds Slim's face. "Leave off…Slim. Those big mitts of yours…pack a punch." He ekes out with a groan. Slim nearly laughs in relief to hear him, slumping a little as the adrenaline of the last few minutes shudders through his veins.
"Sorry Jess, worried you were tryin' to take a nap on me there for a second." Jess dips his chin in what might be a nod, gaze drifting past Slim's shoulder like he's searching for something.
"Where's.. Albers?" He asks, his voice frail, and Slim feels himself sober.
"He rode off. Don't think he's goin' to be troubling us any longer." Jess nods again, his eyes starting to slide shut, and Slim shakes his shoulders a little.
"Hey, you gotta stay awake alright? Stay with me, partner." Jess obeys but it seems to be an effort, and Slim feels that cold fear settle back on him like the first snow of winter. Jess might be awake for now but he's bleeding bad and he's still got a bullet lodged in him somewhere. He can't help the question that falls from his lips then, the confusion and fear of it too strong to keep quiet. "Aw Jess, why'd you do it. Why'd you let him shoot you?"
Jess blinks real slow, and when he opens his eyes Slim gets the sense he's not really looking at Slim anymore. "I don't want to be that kind of man anymore Slim. Even if it kills me, I don't want to be that kind of man…" He murmurs, so faint Slim has to lean in close to hear it.
When his eyes shut this time they don't open again. For a moment Slim thinks he's gone, blood running cold, but when he puts his head down again he hears Jess's heart still going, unsteady and faltering but undeniably beating. It's probably just the shock and the bloodloss hitting him that's putting him out.
Sitting back on his heels Slim lets out a shaky breath, looking around. Evening is falling, the last golden haze of afternoon fading slowly into indigo. They can't stay here, that much is clear. Jess needs that bullet out and even if Slim thought he could get it on his own a dusty trail is no place to do it. If they stay here Jess'll die and die fast, but the nearest town is Larkspur and there's no way Jess'll survive a trip that distance on horseback. The Cobb's spread though, is only maybe two or three hours, and they'd seemed friendly enough. As it stands that ranch is probably Jess's only chance of survival.
"I'll be right back. Don't you go anywhere while I'm gone okay?" Slim says, giving the unconscious man a comforting pat on the shoulder before scrambling to his feet. Luckily it doesn't take him too long to find where Jess had left Alamo, and Slim leads the horse quickly back to the road. He uses an extra few seconds to rummage through saddlebags for the bandages before he's back at Jess's side, not relaxing till he's checked that his partner's still breathing. Working as fast as he can he packs more bandages into Jess's shirt, frowning to see that his kerchief is soaked through already, before wrapping more tight around his chest to keep pressure on the wound. Jess doesn't wake through the process, though he moans a little when Slim lifts him to get the wrappings around his back, face pinched with pain.
The bleeding staunched as best as Slim can manage he begins the laborious process of getting Jess up and onto Traveler, no mean feat considering Jess's dead weight. The man might be shorter than Slim by a fair bit but he's all lean muscle, and Slim is breathing hard by the time Jess is balanced precariously on Traveler's back, body slumped forward across his neck. Slim searches through Trav's saddle packs till he finds some extra rope, then uses it to lash Jess to his saddle. It isn't his first choice, but riding double for the distance they need to cover and at any sort of speed just wouldn't be possible. Once he's fairly certain his partner isn't going anywhere Slim gathers up the reins and pulls himself onto Alamo.
"Hold on, Jess." He whispers, more for himself then for the still unconscious man beside him, then kicks Alamo forward.
The ride that follows is the most hellish of Slim's life. He doesn't dare urge the horses into more then a light canter - afraid that anything rougher will kill Jess outright - and so is forced to make his way back towards the ranch interminably slowly. He rides the horses as close together as he can, reaching out every so often to put his hand to Jess's chest, feeling for a heartbeat that wavers but holds fast. As if sensing his master is hurt Traveler keeps his gait even and steady, carefully picking his way around rocks and roots in their path.
By the time they reach the Cobb's it's dark out, the soft blue of dusk long gone now, forcing Slim to take the last few miles at a walk for fear of one of the horses taking a wrong step and turning a leg or worse. Luckily the windows of the small farmhouse are still lit up when they finally arrive, little squares of butter-yellow in the darkness, and Slim could weep at the sight of them.
"Help! We need some help out here!" He yells, dismounting hurriedly. The front door swings open a moment later, Wyatt Cobb stepping out onto the porch, rifle once again in hand. He freezes as he takes in the sight, Jess slumped motionless on Traveler's back, Slim desperate and white-faced in the moonlight. "He's been shot, we need help. Please" Slim says again, voice rough with exhaustion and worry. Wyatt nods once tightly, calling over his shoulder.
"Emma it's Jess, he's been hurt!"
Satisified of their welcome Slim hurries around Traveler's flank, reaching up to cut Jess loose from the saddle. Wyatt joins him a moment later and the two of them ease Jess down off of the horse, slinging his limp arms over their shoulders as they carry him towards the house, his feet dragging twin trails in the dirt.
"Is there a doctor in town?" Slim asks as they climb the stairs, but Wyatt shakes his head grimly.
"Nearest one is in Colorado Springs. Day's ride." Slim's stomach sinks. Even if he could convince the doctor to go that far for a patient, likely they'd arrive back too late to do any good. It seems they're on their own.
A tall handsome woman with pale corn-silk hair hurries towards them once they're inside, her mouth a tight line as she rakes her eyes over Jess. Two young children stand huddled behind her, a girl and a boy, with matching expressions of shock on their faces.
"Tim, go and take care of the horses. Get 'em in the barn." Wyatt orders, and the boy jumps forward to obey, hurrying out into the night. "Emma, where should we put him?" "He can have my bed. I'll sleep with Tim." The little girl offers before Mrs. Cobb can reply, her voice shaky but insistent. Her mother nods, eyes appraising.
"Alright, we can bring Tim's bed into our room, keep the children's bedroom as a sickroom. Frannie, honey, go into the kitchen and get some hot water started, and find some old sheets in the linen chest." The girl springs forward to obey, disappearing towards the kitchen at a run.
Emma hurries forward to open the bedroom door and Slim and Wyatt carefully manuveur Jess through the doorway and onto the narrow bed, arranging his lax limbs carefully. Emma shoulders the both of them aside, leaning over Jess and tearing open his ruined shirt, moving aside the soaked bandages Slim had applied on the trail. She frowns when she sees the wound.
"The bullet?" She asks without turning.
"Still in him." Slim replies wearily. She nods once, sharply, before straightening and putting her hands on her hips. "It will have to come out, now. If we leave it in the lead will poison him. Wyatt, you move Tim's bed out of here, Mr. Sherman why don't you go get cleaned up. There's a pump out in the yard." Slim opens his mouth to protest but she lifts a finger. "Listen, you won't do him any good standin' around here worryin', and you're a right mess. Go and wash up, I'll call you when I need you." Slim looks down, seeing the blood crusted onto his hands as if for the first time. Suddenly nauseous he just nods, unable to find the words to speak.
The pump is around the left side of the house, and he fills up a bowl, splashing some on his face first. The water is crisp and clean, the cold of it waking him up a little. Using a cloth he finds hanging on the clapboard side of the house he starts to scrub viciously, the blood dried into the creases of his hands, under his fingernails. He can smell it in the air, coppery and cloying, as thick here as it was inside the house. Bile rises in his throat and for a second he has to stop, gripping the edge of the pump to keep himself from swaying on his feet.
"Mr. Sherman!" Mr. Cobb's wife calls from inside, voice cutting through the heavy silence, and he shakes himself - taking a steadying breath and finishing his ablutions before turning back to the house.
"I'm going to take the bullet out now, I'll need your help holding him down. If he moves too much while I'm digging for it he could hurt himself worse." Mrs. Cobb explains flatly once Slim's joined her beside Jess's bed. Her sleeves are rolled up around her elbows and she has an apron on over her dress, hair tied back away from her face. She's stationed at the head of the bed by Jess's shoulder, so Slim takes position near the bottom, leaning over to put a hand on Jess's uninjured side.
Luckily Mrs. Cobb is quick and efficient in her work, using a small kitchen knife to open up the wound before inserting her fingers into Jess's shoulder, brows creased in concentration. Jess shifts a little, moaning at the intrusion, and Slim presses him gently back to the bed, murmuring comforting words under his breath as the woman searches for the bullet. Slim wonders distantly if she had been a nurse during the war, she certainly seems to know what she's doing. By some stroke of luck Jess stays unconscious through most of the procedure, though Slim can see his face is creased with pain and he begins to stir in agitation towards the end, forcing Slim to put an arm across his hip to keep him still. After what seems like an eternity but is probably only around five or six minutes Mrs. Cobb leans back, holding the small metal pellet up triumphantly. "He's lucky, it wasn't too deep." She declares, dropping it into a small waiting bowl. Slim fails to see how much of any of this situation is lucky, but he keeps his mouth shut. The worst of it over, Mrs. Cobb cleans the wound and neatly stitches it up, before wrapping it up with clean fresh bandages again. When she's done she sits back in her chair, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead.
"I'm worried about how much blood he's lost, and infection. We'll have to keep an eye on his temperature, a fever in this state might be too much for him to take." She says briskly, standing and gathering the bloody detritus into her apron. Slim simply nods again, dumb with exhaustion and terror. The woman's eyes soften, and she puts a hand on his shoulder. "I can sit with him, tonight, if you'd like to get some rest." Dredging up the last reserves of his strength Slim shakes his head.
"No. No, I'll stay with him. You've done enough for us already." She smiles sadly, turning to Jess and running a strangely maternal hand across his forehead, brushing his dark hair back from his face.
"It's no trouble. He's done a lot for us too" Slim watches her, wondering what exactly had transpired here at the ranch between Jess and this family. It's obvious they care for him, more then you'd expect folks to for a ranch hand they'd hired for only a few weeks, and that they're afraid for him too. But then, Jess always does have a way of bringing that sort of thing out in people, Slim included. "Alright, if he wakes up try and get him to take some water - the blood loss will be dehydrating him - and fetch me if he takes a turn. I'll make up some beef tea for him in the morning."
"Thank you ma'am." Slim says softly, settling himself into the chair Mrs. Cobb had vacated. She smiles again.
"Just call me Emma." She murmurs and then she's gone, closing the door behind her with a quiet click, leaving Slim alone with his sleeping partner.