Chapter Eleven

"How's your ankle?"

"Better."

"Good."

"You managing?"

"Some."

It was lunch. One of the few times of the day they got to see each other was during meal times. Breakfast was the shortest time, for all the prisoners were allotted at sunup was a piece of bread that may or may not have a smear of butter on top and a cup of coffee that may or may not have been warm. Lunch was a bit longer with a bit more filling fare. More bread, but this time there was no need to guess if it had anything adorning its slices. Cheese and meat sat between the pair. No one dared to ask the condition of the meat or if the fuzzy thing on the cheese was mold or an insect, but at least after it went down, it lasted longer against the ribs. The last meal of the day was a literal feast. Baked potatoes sat on the plate every single night. What was different between one day and the next was the flavor of meat. The beef was obvious, even when tough enough to pull a tooth out. It was the lighter colored blob that made a few heads get scratched. Whatever it turned out to be, chicken, rattlesnake or something better left undefined, it was eaten.

Here they sat with meat, cheese and bread up to their mouths, chewing even if they tasted nothing, wishing that they felt nothing. It was strange, being hold up for several hours at a time, stretching so far that a minute felt like its own eternity, and when they were finally together, all they could utter was small, seemingly useless words.

Slim swallowed the last of the water in his cup. "Sure is hot."

"Yeah."

"Doesn't feel cool even at night."

"Nope."

"You hear that my neighbor died?"

"Yeah," Jess answered, knowing by the tone in his partner's voice that now the words would come faster and with more meaning, even if it was only for the amount of time it took to finish his poor excuse for a sandwich. "Sorry."

"We didn't talk much. It was just…" Slim's breath went still for a moment, as did his sandwich. He couldn't take another bite. "I heard him gagging. No one I called would come and help. What's worse is I think he did himself in. When the guards finally came by, they said the bed sheet was torn."

"That mile long graveyard's getting longer."

He looked in his partner's eyes. "Don't wish them to put you in it, Jess."

"I won't. You the same."

"I won't."

"Well, they're calling us in."

"Yeah."

"See you at dinner."

"Yeah."

It was always the same after every meal. As there weren't enough guards to boss each man individually, they couldn't return to the tight quarters all at once. With a guard at the front, another at the rear, another left to watch those that remained in the dining area, one row of men were taken back to the cells at a time. Since Slim was on the left side of the corridor and Jess on the right, their parting always came with Slim being the first to leave.

The last of his sandwich getting crumpled into the fold of his napkin, Jess watched him limp away. While Moose didn't pressure Slim along with force like Holloway did, Jess still kept his breath held as Slim walked back to the cells. All it could take was a stumble, a wavering of Slim's leg and Moose's rifle could turn into a painful switch. Fortunately Slim's stance remained steady, at least from what Jess could view, for at that moment the rear guard had just disappeared.

Jess had lost something vital during his two weeks in the lockup. With a hundred fellow prisoners sharing his residence, it was rare to not have someone sneaking into his presence. They were curious, especially the poor souls that had already served a lengthy sentence, with no hope of ever being released. It got to the point that Jess no longer paid attention to the sound of steps approaching him. They had literally gone silent in this place of torture, including the pair of feet that were padding along the hard surface behind him.

A pair of lips stretched toward Jess' ear. "Where is it?"

Already too stiff to flinch in surprise, Jess barely shifted his head to see the prisoner that had crept up next to him. He must have been new here, for like Jess and Slim, his teeth were still fairly white. "Where's what?"

"You know."

"I don't, so since you're real good at playing a one-handed game, why don't you just keep playing by yourself and leave me alone."

Dark eyes narrowing, he put his face within an inch of Jess'. "The only one playing games is you, Harper. Now you tell me where that money is or I'll flatten you into a flapjack."

"Oh. So you've heard about that."

"It's all the talk between Mexico and Canada."

"Then somebody's lying."

"Not the way I heard it. I was in jail waiting transport to Yuma when it happened. I never thought getting sent to this pile of scum would be a Godsend, but now that I've run into you, I'm gonna say that it is."

"Well, it ain't, because there ain't no money."

"You better start talking or I'll…"

"You'll what? Invite me over for tea?"

"No. I'll tattoo your hide worse than any gun could do." The pop of a fist in his hand echoed off all four walls. "I mean it, Harper."

Anger fueling his every move, Jess' hand gripped the man's throat. "Then do it."

"Harper!"

Jess' hand snapping back to his side, he barely gave the guard a glance, standing fifteen feet away with his rifle in a dangerous wag toward Jess' back. "Dadgum. Did you know he was sneaking up?"

"Yes," he whispered into Jess' ear. "That's why I didn't turn you into a mud puddle."

"Like you coulda when I had my hand around your neck. One squeeze and you woulda been flapping like a fish outta water. Maybe I shoulda. Then the guard'd shot me dead and I wouldn't be stuck in prison anymore."

"Maybe I should've let you. Then we'd have our fisticuffs branded by flames, straight in the heart of hell."

"Ain't we already there?"

He looked around him and offered a shrug. "Could be that you're right."

"Then what's it matter where we fight?"

"We'll have that go around, Harper," he said, giving Jess' chest an unfriendly pat. "I promise you. And I'll promise you something else. You'll tell me where that money is, if not from you, I'll get it from your partner. I understand he's the weaker one."

"You go anywhere near Slim and I'll…" Fist fast to form, he started to raise it toward the man's face when it was stilled by a shot. Everything else froze just as solid, even his breath. "What was that?"

"Means somebody did something one of the guards didn't like."

Jess thought of Slim, hobbling along on his ankle and leapt to his feet. "Slim!"

"Harper!" The guard's warning went all the way to put a bullet at Jess' toes.

Eyes frantic, voice to match, Jess almost fell to both knees at the guard's feet. "I just wanna make sure it wasn't Slim. Please!"

The guard glanced toward the corridor. "You'll learn soon enough. It's your row's turn. Move on, Harper."

He wanted to run, but hurrying couldn't be done when Jess wasn't first in line, as it seemed everyone else wanted to learn, or perhaps to merely gawk at the bullet's path. Even still, the guard that came to lead the second group of men down the hallway wouldn't have let him or anyone else bolt ahead. He was like a stone, stiff, and equally commanding with his rifle in hand.

"Let's go," he said, and as Jess had been stuck next to the remaining guard in the room, he would fall to the last in line, the last to know who had been shot.

Jess' heart pounded out the rhythm of fear as he walked closer to Yuma's newest victim. The blood easy to see from a distance, it spread across the floor and left streaks of red down the wall. It must have been point blank to get that much flow out of a body, nothing that anyone could survive.

Craning his neck, Jess went up to the tips of his toes and then he withered back to his normal height, or perhaps he was drawn even lower as Jess bowed with relief. The man lying on his back with most of his belly missing wasn't Slim.

"Keep moving," Moose said, ushering each prisoner by the large puddle of blood, ushering everyone by but Jess.

Knees shaking with rage, Jess threw a pair of blue darts directly into Moose. "What'd he do?"

"All he did was stumble."

The answer coming from the cell closest to where Jess stood, he turned toward the prisoner that wore splatters of fresh blood among his stripes. "Stumble? And for that he was killed?"

"You breathe wrong in this place and you get killed."

"Shut up!"

Jabbed from behind, Jess glared again at Moose, but as the rifle and warning were sitting close to his chest, he didn't throw anything else off his tongue. Recognizing the whine that belonged to the hinges of his cell door, Jess stepped into his confinement and then listened to the remaining doors get their creaking closure.

All he did was stumble.

The prisoner's response dug deeply into Jess' body, ripping every seam until he expected the same kind of flow of blood to drain to the floor underneath him. It could have been Slim. And if it had been, they would have had real cause to kill Jess too.

He waited until the dead man was dragged away and the guard's footsteps dimmed before pressing against the bars, somehow always cold even with Yuma's oppressive heat. Right now they felt even colder. "Slim?"

"Yeah, Jess. I'm fine."

His gulp was the silencer, not Moose's growl from the other end of the corridor. But for how much longer could Slim say the same? Sometimes he hated having his backbone tingle. It meant danger, but it also meant instincts that promptly turned into truth, and at that moment, Jess' spine was doing more than tingle, for inside Jess was sensing that Slim's reply was going to change far too soon. For Slim, for Jess, for all of them.

.:.

"Get up, Harper."

Refusing to roll over to look at the guard at his door, Jess held his body tight against the rickety cot. "No."

Bars given a hard clank with another kind of iron, the guard shoved the key inside. "You get up or I'll drag you out!"

Finally turning his head, Jess snapped upright when he saw Slim alongside the guard, chained to the prisoner that stood next to him. "What is this?"

"Work duty."

Jess' eyes on his partner, he watched Slim nod. "Where?"

"Outside, of course. Where else do you think you'd be put to work, in the kitchen?"

No one else laughing, Jess walked toward the guard's lopsided smile. "Kitchen'd suit me fine. I can't talk for the rest of the fellas here, but I'd sure like to serve you up some of the poison of this place for a change."

"Shut up, Harper, and get in line."

His cell swung wide, Jess looked down the corridor. There were six others, all chained to the man next to him, and as Jess was given a shove against his shoulder, he would make number seven. With bracelets going over both wrists and ankles, Jess couldn't help but jostle into the man next to him when the two guards forced them to move. Of all the men in the prison, and he had to be wrapped up with the one that had threatened him at lunchtime yesterday.

"We meet again, Harper," he whispered like a kitten's soft purr.

"Maybe today's a better day for a fight," Jess answered, choosing another animal to reply with, and promptly barked.

"No noisemaking back there, Timeon!"

Jess smiled. "Timmy, huh? Kinda cute, that."

"Most men I know call me Timbo."

"But I don't know you, so I'll call you Timmy."

"Harper, I'm gonna…!"

"Timeon!"

Jess couldn't help but let his smile grow wider. "Sounds like he's in a bad mood today. Better mind the boss, Timmy."

"Mind yourself, Harper," Timeon answered, lowering his voice to a sinister level meant only for Jess' ears. "Because real soon you're gonna know me better. Much, much better."

"I'm looking forward to it."

As it wasn't much of a walk to the outside of the prison, it didn't take long to learn what kind of work duty the men were expected to do. While a mile's length was an exaggeration, there really were more graves than any man there wanted to count, and that amount was about to grow. Three more would be added this day.

Jess' anger had been pent up for too long. He had stuffed it down where no one could see long before arriving in Yuma. Holloway had seen a glimpse, the warden could say the same, Moose and the other guards that never offered a name had seen enough to know what simmered under Jess' surface. All that he needed was someone to take the lid off. And that hand belonged to Timeon.

It didn't matter that Jess didn't know the man beyond his name and that his character was shady enough to belong in prison. He was Jess' enemy now, and with the insides of his kettle exposed, Jess was ready to let the bubbles spew all over Timmy's face, or more precisely, his chin, right where Jess wanted to pop his fist. When the chains came off, Jess' hands immediately formed his hardest weapons, and as he turned, ready to let it fly even if retaliation would come just as swiftly in the form of a guard's bullet, they fell to his sides. Timeon had already moved away.

"Coward," Jess said under his breath.

"No, he's not that," an old man beside Jess said. "He's smart."

"Not so I can see."

He released a faded chuckle. "Timbo's in the shade, ain't he?"

Staring at Timmy, seated on the hard ground up against the prison wall with a chisel in hand, Jess then eyed the darker line that separated sun and shadow. "Dadgum."

"He's seen this done enough times before to know which job to jump on first. Timbo taps the name of each prisoner into the stones."

"And the rest of us?"

"We dig," the man answered, stretching out his hand for the shovel that was coming and then Jess did the same.

While the guard was spouting what sounded like a rehearsed speech of what the prisoners were not supposed to do while out of the bars, Jess tried to reach Slim so they could dig together, but Jess was ordered to remain next to the old man. As the ground was as unforgiving as every guard on Yuma's payroll, it took several stabs of the shovel into the dirt to turn it over enough times to make the size of a grave. With the heat draining every ounce of strength away, the holes were dug in stages. First Jess' body would take on the punishment of breaking the ground, and then the old man. Back and forth, again and again, and it still seemed that little progress was made.

Leaning against his shovel, Jess used the full length of his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "I can understand them hauling me out here to dig into this impossible dirt, but why Slim? His ankle's still hurting enough that he can't walk right, so how can he punch a shovel's blade in the ground?"

The older man nodded through Jess' every word. "His back's strong. They like that. You ever see how a lotta fella's backs are stooped over? Your friend's ain't. Neither's yours."

"I reckon they'll work us harder, then."

"Like I said, they like that."

"Dadgum."

"I'm Crawdad Crouse." His foot hit the shovel, making a cracking sound against the dirt, or maybe that was the old man's cackle. "You're Jess Harper, ain't you?"

"How'd you know?"

He shrugged. "Word gets around."

Jess nodded toward Timeon, not really working on getting the tombstone erected, but giving Jess a long stare. "From him, you mean?"

"And others like him. Can't keep what you've done secret. I don't suppose you'll give me a hint where you hid it? I get outta here in a year. If we're friends, maybe I can…"

"Dadgummit, I didn't take it!" Jess shouted, but then despite it being his break, Jess immediately started to dig into the ground with fury as both guards turned an ugly stare his way. "Me and Slim are innocent."

Crawdad nodded, much quicker than the earlier repeated bob. "Sure, now. You keep saying that."

"I don't gotta say it to believe it, it's true."

"Water break!"

Jess' hands finding his back, he pressed in deep. "Dadgum, about time."

"One dipper full, Sherman!" The guard jerked the bucket away from Slim's clasp. "You pig! You think you're the only thirsty man out here?"

"Your friend needs to learn the rules, Harper."

His temper baking hotter than the air around him, Jess turned to look at the man behind his back, to look at the only reason why Jess didn't lunge toward the guard for giving Slim an unnecessary rebuke. "And I suppose you're gonna volunteer to be his teacher."

Timeon lifted a shoulder. "Could be. Maybe he'll be more likely to talk about the money if he's got reason to thank me, especially when I show him that these gun-toters ain't shy. You see, I've been in prison before."

"That ain't no shock. I bet you're on a first name basis with every warden out west."

"Maybe." He looked at Slim. "Maybe I ought to make him my next chum."

"I told you yesterday to stay clear of Slim. And I mean it."

"I reckon I'll find out what you mean." Timeon nodded his head toward a creature ambling along the prison's wall. "You ever tangle with a Gila monster?"

"No. You ever tangle with a Jess Harper?"

He flashed a smile. "No. But I can't say that I don't want to."

"Try it."

Pausing for his share of water, he only took one swallow before dropping the dipper back in the bucket. "They're really slow, them lizards."

"Like how you work? Dadgum, now I know what else to call you. Timmy the Gila monster."

"No talking! Water break's over, so get back to work!"

Jess nudged Timeon's shoulder. "He's talking to you, Gila."

"Harper, I'm warning you…"

"Whatcha gonna do, chisel your threat on my hide? As slow as you work, Gila, I ain't got nothing to worry about."

Jess knew he had taken it too far by the flash of lightning that went across Timmy's face. There wouldn't have been the clap of thunder to follow, except at that moment, both guards were busy drinking what was left in the bucket, and Timeon was in the perfect position to witness this scene. There would never be a better opportunity to retaliate than now.

The breath out of his lungs a mighty whoosh, he jerked the shovel out of Jess' hands. "I warned you, Harper!"

The shovel swinging for him, Jess tried to leap away from its swipe. He wasn't fast enough. Jess' belly feeling the blade, Jess' hand crashed into the pain, turning red, all the way down to his boots. Bowing into the ground, Jess' fingers felt the multiple parts, first where his stripes were split, and then at his skin. The slice went dangerously deep.

"Jess!" Slim's own shovel forgotten, he leapt toward his writhing partner.

A rifle's nose plunged into Slim's chest. "Stay where you are, Sherman!"

"But Jess is hurt."

"I can see."

"You can't let him lie there!"

"You're right," the guard answered, changing directions of his weapon to flirt with Jess' ashen skin. "Get up, Harper. And get back to work. That grave needs to be one foot wider and one foot deeper. It's up to you to get it there. Crouse, you're finished with work duty today."

Blue eyes dancing with the spots of oblivion, Jess blinked them back. One by one they disappeared, until he tried to stand. His head lolling forward, Jess gave it a hard swing to stay on the lighter side of darkness and then helping him shake it off further, he was startled by a hand on his elbow.

"Let me help you, Harper."

He looked into the sinister smile of Timeon. "Get your hands off of me."

"So you think you can stand on your own, huh?"

"I can get up," Jess answered, and making his words into proof, he put both feet on the ground and rose. "See."

"Very well. Now let's see if you can dig," said Timmy, grin going a notch wider by handing Jess the shovel. "This is going to be perfect."

"Ain't you supposed to be chiseling your name on a tombstone?"

"Yours'll be next. Guarantee it."

"Timeon, back to work!"

"See? I ain't the only one that notices how slow you are."

"Slow," Timeon grumbled as he turned. "I'll show him what slow really means. A slow death sounds just about right."

As the creature was showing its true character by being even slower than usual, the Gila monster was still within easy reach. Grabbing Crawdad's shovel, Timeon walked toward the shade as if he was returning to his task. He even took the ruse so far to not let a guard's eye bat his way by kneeling in front of the last tombstone that still needed yesterday's date pounded in. And then with the attention away from him, Timeon lifted the Gila monster with the shovel's blade.

He hoped he wouldn't laugh. Timeon didn't want anything to ruin the moment, but it was hard to not let the tickle come out as he crept up to Jess' back. Whoever said prison couldn't be fun obviously didn't know Jess Harper.

The last step taken, he offered a reptilian hiss. "Psst, Harper. Play with this instead!"

Already angry from riding on the shovel and then going airborne, the Gila monster wasn't there to play. Smelling the blood all over Jess' body would only make the desire to take a bite even worse. As Jess fell, the Gila monster opened wide to Jess' flesh. Fingers, hand, and then onto his wrist, the creature hung on as if no strength on earth could pry the teeth loose.

He had never screamed so much in his life. Of all the bullets, knifes, fists or even explosives that had touched Jess' body, this torture was more severe. He even forgot the pain roaring around his middle. All he knew was the burn, the throb that sunk so deep it turned his soul into worse heat than Yuma. Worse than whatever the other side of Hades' gates had to offer. The fight within somehow not completely dead yet, Jess slammed the Gila monster into the ground. On the third hit it had enough of the battle and let go. But even as the teeth were released, the pain increased, as did Jess' screams.

He had been down in his hole, measuring the proper six-foot depth, yet still Slim cleared the earthen hurdle the moment Jess' pain was coming out of his mouth. "Jess!"

"Stay back, Sherman!"

Staring at his partner, confusion shook Slim's head, and the rest of his body went along for the wild ride. "What's happening?"

"Gila monster."

That was when he saw it, the creature that was slithering its tongue back and forth at Jess' boots. "You have to help him!"

"He'll be fine. Gila monsters don't kill nobody, just make their victims wish they were dead is all."

Slim had heard that before, but seeing Jess' torture, he didn't believe it as truth. "Isn't there a doc, anyone to help him?"

"Not out here."

"But inside, can't you get a doc?"

"Shut up, Sherman!"

"Get a doc, or I'll…"

"You'll do as you're told, Sherman. Shut up!" The guard seeing Slim's mouth grow tight, he turned his attention back to the man on the ground. "Harper, finish that grave!"

"He can't! Have some mercy on him!"

"I mean it, Sherman. That's the last warning!"

He didn't know anything except pain, but he could hear the threat offered to his partner, and Jess' breath sucked in tight. "I'll be fine, Slim. Just gotta grit my teeth harder."

"No. You stay down, Jess. I'll finish digging the other grave. That is if you have no objections."

The guard stared at Slim for the longest minute in the history of time and then nodded. "But dig it two feet wider and two feet deeper, two times as fast."

"It'll be exactly as you say," Slim said, and as anger had its way of forgetting everything but what it felt like to be angry, Slim stormed to the gravesite without a single limp. "You all right, Jess?"

Jess offered a weak nod. "Slim, you didn't have to do that. I coulda managed."

"I did, Jess. Just lie still and take it easy."

"I wish I could. How come Timmy ain't getting yelled at?"

"I don't think anyone saw him do it," Slim answered, giving the five other prisoners a sweep of his vision. "At least no one that wanted to say anything. There's one thing about these men, Jess. Most of them are broken. They're afraid, alone, reduced to something that no man should ever be."

"He ain't."

Slim nodded as he watched Timeon chiseling in the shade, grinning through every pound against stone. "He's new here. Two weeks or so. Same as us."

"He ain't the same as us."

Slim gave a toss of the dirt, wishing he could fling it far enough to bury Timeon instead of the man that had been shot in the corridor the day before. "How so?"

"I can tell you right now he's guilty of whatever crime he's here for. We ain't."

"Yeah."

"Sherman, is that grave finished yet?"

Staring at the guard, Slim thrust the shovel into the hard soil. "It is now."

"Good. Rolland, Diaz, lower Coe into the ground."

Grateful to be finished, Slim pulled Jess to where the line of shade was and sat down beside him. "What's worse?"

"The bite."

"Serious?"

"Yeah."

Slim pointed to the guard overseeing Coe's burial. "He said Gila monsters can't kill you."

"Then he ain't never been bit."

"I wish I could take it from you, Jess."

"Then I'd hafta take it right back."

"You two make me sick," Timeon said, dragging the tombstone so close that the dust kicked into both sets of blue.

"At least something good came outta today," Jess said, unable to put anything into his face but the lines of pain. "Timmy's gotta bellyache."

But considering the kind of ache attacking Jess' body, Timeon would still get the final grin. Jess' stomach would only get worse in roughly thirty minutes of time.

"Hold him down," a spectacled, stethoscope-wearing man said as he stood over Jess' hunched over frame. "I've got to clean out that wound."

He hated that his lashes had droplets on them. Even with the experiences of Jess' entire life as his guide, it was impossible to stop the tears from forming. He did blink them away before showing them to his tormenters, but every time his eyes crashed to a close with another assault to his body and then returned to slits, the blur was there all over again.

"I've got his arms."

Through the swirling stream over his eyes, Jess saw Moose clamp down on his shoulders and then looked down at his feet. A different guard was there, fat enough to be nicknamed Hog, and definitely fat enough to hold Jess down. The man's pudgy backside was literally squishing him to the floor.

"All right, boys. He'll thrash."

So much for saying the scream when the Gila monster had a hold of him was the worst ever pulled out of Jess' throat. As the bottle was upended over Jess' bare skin, he did more than thrash. He screamed, he fought, and he begged for death to take him. Of course it didn't. Jess tried to clamp his jaw tight enough to hold his suffering in, but with every dribble going over him, his teeth pried apart, screaming until the echoes were just as loud as the original.

"Stop! Dadgummit, stop!"

The pour only halfway complete, the doctor parted the sliced skin for the remaining dose. "Believe me it's for your own good. Infections kill here more than bullets do."

"Oh God, make him stop!"

"Almost," came the reply, obviously not out of heaven. "There."

If only they were done when the bottle was emptied, then Jess' breaths could shorten, his tongue could go silent and he could fold into his misery and forget about the three men invading his cell. But they weren't ready to leave.

Needle and thread held tightly between thumb and forefinger, the doctor bent again over the patient. "If you chew on your boot, it might go some easier."

He shook his head, and determined to keep his pain stuffed down his throat, Jess pushed his mouth into his shoulder. Through every stitch the grimace grew until his teeth were parted, but instead of the sound of his agony coming out with peal after peal, the noise had been reduced to a haggard gasp. It wasn't that Jess was getting stronger, more resilient. No, this was because of the opposite. He was getting weaker, darkness was searching for him, and Jess was willing to let it come in.

But then a knife rammed into his hand.

"What?" The wince pushed out one clear word before turning into explosives again.

"I've got to break open the bite wounds. Sure it won't flow the poison out like you do for snakebites, but the damaged skin has to be cut off otherwise it'll never repair."

"Dadgummit!"

Slim had tried to hold still throughout Jess' exam, but once the white-jacket started to work, he could no longer remain on his bunk. Hands in a tight grip on the bars along each side of his face, Slim's eyes tried to bulge the entire distance to Jess' cell. At the first scream, so long and haunting that Slim's own scream was perched on the tip of his tongue, he started to ram his entire body against the door.

By the time Jess' tongue finally went silent, Slim was bruised from his forehead all the way down to his ankles. But then Jess' howls started up again, this time worse than ever. "Jess! What're they doing to you?"

With nothing else but his partner's cry in his ears, Slim banged so hard that the entire wall vibrated. "Someone answer me!"

"Hey, keep doing that," said the prisoner two cells down. "You break us wide open and we're all running free."

It was tempting enough that Slim's eyes went up and down instead of keeping the hard lock to number twenty-two. It was true that he was making more than the irons creak. Another hard hit and Slim felt something other than his body shake. As another scream tore out of Jess' throat, Slim could no longer contain his fury. He had to get to Jess, and no Yuma cell was going to hold him back.

This would have been true if Slim was allowed to keep fighting. But it would no longer be a Yuma cell that would be holding him down.

"Sherman's trying to break out!" Moose's shout somehow alerting every guard in the entire wing of the prison, there were five men running down the corridor.

Weapons staring him down, a key went inside and a man's hand was thrust into Slim's chest. "Get back!"

With that much artillery in his face, Slim couldn't do anything but back up. "All right. I'm sorry. I only wanted to know what was happening to Jess."

"I'm sure he'll live," said Hogan from the doorway. "But if he doesn't, I'll make sure that you'll be the one digging his grave."

He might have surrendered to his cot if Jess' body wasn't recoiling from whatever they were doing to him now. Even with guns and the men in front of them, all Slim could see was the open cell and he was through it. A rifle going over his neck, Slim bent, but his legs wouldn't stop running. He had to get to Jess!

Suddenly there were hands all over him, hitting him, hauling him back into his cell. And then as Slim looked toward number twenty-two, he saw the white-jacket coming out. He immediately stopped thrashing against those that held him.

"What'd you do to Jess?"

The doctor shrugged. "Cleaned his wounds, stitched him up tight. He came close to needing major surgery, but I brought him through all right."

"All right? It sounded like you were killing him!"

"He's alive."

Again he looked, but as the only sound in his ears was the panting of his own breaths, he couldn't be sure. He could no longer hear Jess. Was he dead? "Let me see him for myself."

"No."

He looked in the face of Moose and then swung his eyes to the fat man that he didn't know. "You were in there. Tell me if he's all right!"

He hooked a chubby thumb Jess' way. "Did he sound all right?"

"No."

"Then that's your answer."

He had one to give back. Again Slim fought the men that held him, and with the power of friendship mixed in with an emotion with even more strength in its name, anger, Slim was able to shove one guard to the ground. The next fell to the floor as if he were nothing.

"Knock him out, Doc," Hogan said, taking a part of Slim's flesh in hand himself. "It's the only way."

"Right," he said, reaching into his bag for an already prepared vial. "Let me have a view of his upper arm."

Slim gave the doctor a view of his leg instead and popped his foot into the man's stomach. "Don't you touch me!"

He did anyway, and apparently the physician didn't need Slim's upper arm at all. The needle crashed into Slim's thigh and with a fast punch of the man's thumb, the cold stream went into Slim's blood.

His fight abating only slightly, Slim glared at the doctor. "What'd you do to me?"

"I simply gave you a shot of chloral hydrate. A sedative. You'll sleep ten, twelve hours."

The muscles in his face twitched. "You sure?"

"If we wanted you dead, Sherman, the bullets in those guns would already be in you."

Breaths starting to slow, Slim would have gone all the way to allowing the guards to release him to the sanctuary of his cot, but as the sound of his temper quieted, the sound down the hall was allowed to increase. He could hear Jess' suffering, a whimper, a groan, but it was the weakest "dadgum" he had ever heard his partner utter that undid him.

Moose's face given a punch, the guard next to him suddenly screeched louder than what Jess had done. "Give him the stronger stuff! Quick! He's about to tear my arms off!"

He didn't see it come for him until Slim felt the needle's jab and then his leg went numb. The other following, Slim bent toward the ground as his tongue began to roll out of his mouth. When they pulled him to the corner of his cell, they released him. One by one they walked away, and then his cell rattled with the lock.

All Slim could do was look dumbly at the doctor as he shut his bag with a click. "What've you…?"

"Sorry, Sherman. But you asked for it. You'll be out in a minute, but God have mercy on that minute. It won't be a pleasant one."

He heard the hiss first and turned toward the corner, his eyes going wide to the sight of something only Slim could see. Hands along his cheeks, his fingernails dug into his skin so deep blood spouted from every hole.

"Nooooo!"

Crawling through the bars, coming out of the walls, dropping from the ceiling, his cell was full of Gila monsters. If only this was the only terror to grab him. Large spiders, so hairy that he could hardly see all eight legs were racing down each wall, up his arms and into his hair. He couldn't rip them out fast enough. And then his cell began to reverberate with the sound of a thousand rattlesnakes.

"Nooooo! Help me!"

He thought it was only the memory of Jess' scream rocking through his core, but in reality they were being pulled out of Slim's mouth. One after the other, the frightened screams sent every prisoner in the corridor and beyond to seek refuge in the corner of each cell.

The sound of his partner snapping Jess out of his own painful stupor, he crawled to his cell door. "Slim! Dadgummit, what's happening?"

"They drugged him," came the reply from someone Jess couldn't see.

"Drugged him?"

"Yeah. It's happened before."

The pain in his body was gone. All he could focus on was Slim's agony and that he had to help him, save him from the wrath within, without, wherever it was. "Slim, listen to me. Whatever's happening to you, it ain't gonna kill you, not unless you let it."

"Nooooo!"

"You'll be all right, Slim." The silence down the hall making Jess pause, he twisted his voice into a hopeful arc. "You hear me, Pard?"

"J…Jess?"

"Yeah. It's me. Just close your eyes and let it go. Think of the ranch, the mountain streams, the sunsets, the green grass with a bunch of cattle grazing, horses that're gentled by your own hand. Oh, and remember an ornery fellow you met lazing on a log. If you do that, you'll make it just fine, Slim."

"K…keep…ta-talk…talking."

"Sure, Slim. For as long as you need."

Slim's head beginning to lower, his lashes fluttered the same direction. Whenever he flung them back open, he saw the same wicked scene as before, only blurrier, less frightening. His breaths starting to slow, he dropped to the ground and pulled himself into a ball. As he rocked, he listened to the only sound that could break through the constant whir of rattles and the steady march of spider legs.

Jess' voice taking away everything, even the worst fears of his life, Slim was lulled into the comforting darkness of sleep.