Chapter 5

Drifting, senses slowly bumped into one another and lifted Johnny out of the darkness toward the surface, toward the light. Not that there was much of that, he groused inside. Not that he expected any here. And it was wet. Now that didn't fit any expectations.

Distant voices. Like an echo in a canyon or adrift in the trees. That he expected. Many had come before him. Too many by his hand. Grim souls locked in an eternal struggle. No, not voices. A voice. A single voice. This one didn't sound threatening. Persistent though. Like a man wanting to be heard. His head rolled gently toward his left. That way didn't pain him as much and as his awareness of this place settled around him, he thought the voice was on that side. Turning allowed his eyes to crack open without the water running in so maybe he could see what awaited him here. He'd heard a lot about it after all. Been told as long as he could remember that was where he was headed. Might as well see what it looked like.

A shadow man knelt beside him. Johnny sighed. Maybe that was best. Empty forms bereft of souls. He'd been alone most of his life. Only fitting now. The shadow leaned in, and his eyes focused on the face. He had to admit he was curious. Until the face arrived with a name.

"S-S-Scott? S-Scott? What'r ya doin' here?"

"What do you think I'm doing here? As part of my big brother duties, I'm trying to keep you dry, but you have made it a challenge since you decided to take a nap in the middle of a rainstorm. We can't make it home, so we need to…."

"No, no, no…," Johnny's neck twisted back and forth causing an odd light show of stars in his vision. Whatever pain had absorbed him was shoved aside by the misery at seeing his brother next to him.

"YOU BASTARD!" Johnny shouted, his upper body arching up forcing Scott to fall back onto his hands. When Johnny threw himself back down, the older man was unable to react quickly enough, his own body draped in a covering of cold that slowed his thoughts as well as his movements. Scott managed to slide one hand between Johnny's head and the stone when he began to bang it against the rock surface.

"We had a deal, you mother fucker! Take me! Save him! That was the deal! That was the fucking deal!"

"Johnny! No! Stop! Stop!" Scott managed to lift his brother against his chest and held him until the fight in him slowed and only shuddering sobs remained.

"Lo siento, hermano. Lo siento," Johnny uttered, his despair cracking the air. Johnny felt himself being rocked, his brother's voice pleading with him to be calm, assuring him that there was no need to apologize. The pain prodded his side, and the angry stabs of his shoulder crept in bringing with it the words his brother had yelled out of the darkness, attacking like a clawed cat, its teeth bared.

Damn you, Johnny. You had no right!

"I know, Scott. I know." he responded despondently to the sounds pounding in his head. "Been damned maybe since the day I was born. Never meant to drag you to Hell with me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Scott heard Johnny say his name, but most of his words were lost to the incessant demands of the rain, his clouded brain and his brother's face buried in his chest. He lowered him back to the ground and laid one hand across his forehead. He couldn't feel it as all sensation to his fingers was lost so he pressed harder. Johnny's blue eyes wandered, made dim in the dark clouds that stretched across all that they could see. At least Scott blamed the gray cloak that enveloped them.

"Johnny, look at me, boy." The older brother decided that there was but a single path that they needed to walk and was determined to make his conclusion clear. "We have to move. Out of this infernal rain. No sign of it letting up, meaning no one's coming after us. Just you and me, Brother. Together. Just like it's supposed to be."

Johnny watched his brother's blue-tinged lips move as his curse repeated itself over and over in his ears. Damn you, Johnny. Damn you, Johnny. Damn you, damn you, damnyoudamnyoudamnyou….

He deserved his brother's curses for failing him, leaving him trapped in that mine shaft filling with water with no escape. A terrible death. He didn't bother offering any prayers when Scott was trapped. He knew God, if He was even around, had no time for anything Johnny Madrid had to say. But he did hope with every fiber that burned in him that His angels would swoop in and carry Scott away to those streets of gold the padres and preachers were all so keen on.

He resigned himself further to his own fate knowing Murdoch would curse him, too, when he found out Johnny had allowed his son to die. The good son. The one he was proud of. So, it was just as well Johnny didn't linger in life either making the man pretend to tolerate him being left behind. The other son. The troublesome son. They had been getting along better but Johnny always suspected that was more for Scott's sake than Murdoch's desire to accept him. Murdoch wanted the son he lost years ago, not the one he found.

But Scott, he was everything and more a man could want. No wonder Murdoch and ol' Harlen Garrett fought so hard over Scott. Of course, they each wanted him by their side. Proud to call him their own. And whoo-wee, didn't all the ladies and their mothers perk up whenever Scott was in town. He was a son or son-in-law any woman would want. Even his own Mama. She must have been jealous that Johnny had never been the son Murdoch wanted. Angry even. 'Course it didn't take much to set her fire blazin'. No wonder she never told him about his brother. Maybe it's why she lied about Murdoch kicking them out. It would have been an embarrassment to her if he showed up back there uninvited.

Johnny's eyes studied his brother's face, losing himself in the shape of it. The strength of it. And he cursed himself with the realization that though it was not his choice, he was comforted that his brother was with him. Somewhere, in whatever remained of his black soul, Lancer or maybe it was Madrid, Johnny swore he would get his brother away from the hell of this rock. Out of the barbs of rain that burned like cold flames. Maybe there was still a chance for Scott to find the door to heaven or whatever waited for good men when their souls were called away. Johnny decided he would tear Hell apart until he found it and shoved his brother through.

He looked up at the sky graying to a darker shade. Night was coming. And the storm wasn't stopping. No Padre I know ever said anything 'bout rain in Hell. Probably shoulda.

"We gotta go, Scott. Find somewhere dry." Johnny's words were suddenly clear, missing the emotions that had collapsed around him only moments before.

"Glad you've joined me, Brother," Scott's smirk was a balm that his brother embraced. "Any ideas?"

"No. Not sure…." Johnny's stared along his body, seeing his bent knees, and scanned the large boulder where he noticed his boots were pressed against its side. Slow memories churned. "The mine shaft. The boards broke. You fell."

"I do seem to recall something about that. It's full of water. Not an option."

"The mine. Gotta be near. Rest of it," Johnny started to fade as the pain began to roll in like a surging tide.

"The mine!" Scott's grin broke through the sodden air like a beacon and Johnny felt his own mouth turn up at the corners. He broke into a smile as he listened to his brother go on. "You do share a modicum of my brilliance, little brother. A smaller share, of course, but enough to have the occasional notion worthy of consideration." The weary smile failed to erase the exhaustion in those blue-gray eyes, but it did give Johnny a momentary warmth. Scott looked back along the incline they had climbed in the direction of where they had left the horses. "The cave-in was that way," Scott waved toward Johnny's feet. "We'll follow the rock formation around. The main entrance to the mine shouldn't be too far. That shaft hadn't gone too deep yet. We have to be near."

Johnny started to push up with his right hand but groaned, nothing but agony waited there. He rocked to the left but bending at the waist brought a different kind of cramping.

"Johnny, Johnny, let me help you." Scott stirred within his own lethargy and guided his arm beneath his brother's shoulders. "That cat played rough with you. The bleeding hasn't stopped completely. At least, I don't think it has. This damn rain. Hard to see."

"You ain't staying here, Scott. I'll get you outta here. I swear."

"I admit I need your help, Brother, but your sudden fortitude aside, you're not going anywhere without me. Now take it easy. We'll make it out of these rocks together."

Neither brother was able to take the lead but somehow, together, they managed to get to their feet. They stumbled along down the incline toward the edge where dirt took over the landscape and bushy growth ran along in choppy clumps. Scott scanned the scant vegetation although in the moment, couldn't remember why. Johnny's weight leaned against him, but his arm was firm at his back and the power of his brother's legs pulled Scott forward. Scott belatedly realized that Johnny fisted the damn rope, and it trailed like a snake behind them. He shook his head in wonder that neither had tripped. Something niggled in his head that they might need it and he was grateful one of them had the foresight to bring it.

"Horses," Scott announced suddenly when a large shape moved several yards away and an anxious nicker called.

"Wha…?"

"Get to the horses," Scott stated with new authority remembering what it was that they were looking for.

"Oh. Wasn't sure they'd be here. Kinda hoping they were spared. Damn."

"Almost there. We can do this."

Scott led his brother off the stony surface. They both slid precariously in the mud before they stabilized one another and continued to weave through a barricade of brush as daunting as a line of barbed wire. The growth was meager but the lack of light and deluge of water in their faces against the abandonment of their bodies proved a new challenge. Unrepentant tears burned Johnny's eyes when he saw Charlemagne standing alone, tugging against his reins toward his rider.

Barranca escaped.

His beloved horse ran free away from this misery. 'Though he wasn't the one you were supposed to save, Dealer, damn you. He wondered if the pistol in his holster still shot bullets so he could ease his brother's horse once he saved Scott by carrying them to some kind of shelter. Maybe Charlie would be the key to take Scott away to…someplace else. Someplace where his brother was meant to be. That would be best. Then neither would suffer any more because of him.

They fell against the animal, Scott grabbing the stirrup. Charlie danced away, anxious to leave. The smell of Johnny's blood combined with the undercurrent of thunder and odor of the dead mountain lion had pressed the gelding to the edge of his endurance. He needed to run. He knew the way and he struggled to begin his journey home.

Without discussion, Scott attempted to push his brother into the saddle. Johnny lifted his left leg despite the stabs in his side and Scott guided his boot into the stirrup. Johnny handed the rope to Scott, making him chuckle.

"You've brought it this far, you might as well take care of it." Scott looped it over his brother's neck with one hand, the other tucked under Johnny's belt. He couldn't feel what he was doing and was afraid to trust grip strength alone. The younger man reached up for the saddle horn, bounced twice on his toes before he started to pull himself upwards and his brother managed to shove him the rest of the distance.

Scott struggled to untangle the reins knotted in the brush by Charlie's attempts to free himself. The horse moved side to side until Scott grabbed the halter and offered the comfort of his voice to calm the anxious animal. With the reins finally loose in Scott's hands, he forced his fingers to fold around the leather he could see, but not feel. He managed to lurch to Charlie's right and hand one rein to Johnny before returning to the left side to mount. He ran his hand along Charlie's neck and across his bunching shoulder until he bent his head to peer up at his brother. Johnny removed his foot from the stirrup and reached his hand toward his brother.

"My horse," Scott jerked his head toward the cantle.

"My nightmare," Johnny retorted.

"Scoot back."

"Then ya shoulda climbed on first, Brother." The older brother scowled at the younger's declaration, a spark hinting in Johnny's otherwise dull eyes. "You can have the reins," Johnny jiggled the single strip of braided rawhide toward Scott's face.

"You made these for me, Brother. Taking them should be my prerogative," a tug of a lip hinted at Scott's intent to tease. He sighed when Johnny face fell, his head dropped, and his eyes clamped shut.

"I'm so sorry, Scott," the muttered words were barely audible.

"Not your fault, Johnny. Can't be helped," he returned to big brother mode.

Scott grabbed his brother's hand and dropped himself at his brother's back. His arms slid under Johnny's arms and despite his previous bravado, the younger man leaned back, his left hand gripping the horn, his right arm dangling.

Charlie side-stepped and fought to turn his head in the opposite direction Scott pulled the reins. The rider attempted to knee rein but the feeling there was weak, and he doubted the pressure was adequate to control the animal despite its training. After a brief battle, the calvary lieutenant took charge and pulled them southeast along the rocky incline in search of the opening of an abandoned mine.