Never Alone

"Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make."

ooOOOoo

Ezra Standish rolled over and stifled a groan as his hip encountered a rock under his bedroll.

God, he hated camping out.

Finally he pulled himself up on to his feet. Now a whole new stiffness set in, actually the more he tried to move, the worse it seemed. It was soreness, not stiffness, or perhaps both, whatever it was he didn't like it. He looked over at his horse, quietly chopping the long sweet grass near the creek. Riding was going to be torture today.

"This parlous state of affairs is your own fault Ezra P Standish, you asked for it."

ooOOOoo

That night he and Buck had camped early because the creek was so inviting and the weather so stiflingly hot. They had swum and generally played in the water. Buck had seemed very amused with Ezra, as if he didn't believe Ezra ever played.

Not bothering to dress, they had lain themselves on the mossy creek bank to dry off, before thinking about getting something to eat. Since neither of them really felt like cooking - it was just too hot to make a fire - they contented themselves with biscuits, hard tack, and apples. Finally they had been lying side by side on their bedrolls as the breeze - that was as hot as it had been during the day - blew over they're naked bodies.

"Too hot t' sleep," Buck had commented idly.

"Indeed," Ezra had responded.

"I know a way to guarantee we fall asleep."

"Really, do enlighten me."

"Rather show you."

With that Buck had rolled over on his side to eye the gambler with a leer. His large hand reached over to run itself over Ezra's hard flat abdomen, letting his fingers dip in and out as they passed over the rippled stomach muscles. The flat of his coarse, callused hand brushed over Ezra's dark nipple, already erect and demanding attention.

"This…this is gonna make me sleepy?" Ezra gasped.

"Eventually, give it time boy, give it time." Buck rolled over more, stretching one long, long leg over Ezra, straddling him. He grinned at Standish. "You wanna reach into my saddle bag behind you?" he nodded at the worn leather pouches just behind and to the right of Ezra's head.

"And what, pray tell, am I looking for?" Ezra enquired.

"Oh you'll know it when yer find it," Buck grinned, his while teeth flashing in the fading light.

Ezra had been none too keen to riffle around inside the dark recesses of Wilmington's saddlebags, but forced himself to push a hand inside. He rooted past what felt like a clean shirt and a small leather pouch he took to be a shaving kit. Finally he encountered something hard and smooth. In truth it was hard to concentrate with Buck kneeling over him teasing his nipples. He withdrew the object, which proved to be a small jar. Ezra raised an eyebrow.

"You came prepared?" he enquired.

"Always." Buck took the jar from Standish and opened it and, winking at Ezra, lay it down beside him.

"You're not going to use it?" Ezra asked somewhat disappointed.

"Not yet, no."

Buck moved his hands down Ezra's torso as he bent and gently kissed the now proud nubs he had just been massaging. Ezra for his part writhed and moaned under this ministration. The gentle kissing became more insistent, less gentle, and as it did he liked it more. Then the kisses and small bites were moving, travelling down his now sweat-drenched torso, the skilled tongue occasionally lapping at the salty dew as it passed.

"Oh good Lord!" Ezra exclaimed as big coarse hands began to cup and roll his balls, and yet still his now rock hard cock was neglected. "Please Mr Wil…Buck, please…"

But Buck paid him no mind as his eager mouth moved inexorably closer and closer to the object of his desire at its own pace.

Finally he was licking his way up the shaft until he reached the top. By now Ezra was panting, his hands balled in the fabric of the bedroll. Buck kissed and nibbled and sucked at the tip.

"Please Buck, I'm begging you, please…please more!"

Buck looked up. "More?"

"Yes damn it! More!"

"Well you should have said so." With that, the Two-Blood winked at him.

He then began sucking, licking, and nibbling the now weeping cock in earnest, running his teeth along the length and then suddenly deep-throating the gambler, who, for his part, was now thrusting his hips up to meet the skilled mouth as it went about its work.

When Ezra came it was shouting Buck's name, as the tall Two-Blood swallowed his seed. Finally Buck sat up, and as Ezra watched through slightly glazed eyes, he licked a slight dribble of creamy liquid as it escaped the corner of his mouth.

"Mmmm, like lickin' butter off a knife," he purred.

Buck watched as Ezra relaxed and tried to get his breathing back under control. As Ezra watched he reached for the jar, removed the lid and scooped out a generous amount. Warming the cream in his hands as Ezra propped himself up on his elbows the better to watch the show; Buck coated his impressively large erection in the warm, slick paste.

"My turn I think?" he said looking down at the naked man beneath him.

"So it would appear." Ezra grinned, moving his legs so they were either side of Buck's and not between them, he spread himself invitingly for his lover.

Buck made sure his finger was well coated and then bent down to slip it inside Ezra, moving it in and out as his lover smiled up at him. Ezra really did prefer to be on the bottom - most of the time anyway. Eventually a second finger was added, but Buck was still taking it slow and careful.

"Damn it Buck! Get on with it! I need you and by the look of things you need me," he encouraged, eyeing the weeping state of Buck's cock.

"I don't wanna hurt you Ez, we done this before, you know how big I am, I could do you some damage."

"I can take it, I want it…. now come on big man!"

"Hell Ez! You know you what you do to me when you talk like that! But I ain't gonna hurt you, so wait!"

With that he started to work the two fingers apart, stretching Ezra to accommodate his width, finally he added a third finger, noting that Ezra's apparently spent cock was twitching as his fingers touched bottom and hit the sweet spot. Finally he withdrew is hand and edged the head of his shaft into the well prepared opening as Ezra drew back his legs further to better facilitate Buck's entry. Buck leant forward until he was resting his hands either side of Standish's chest and bent down to kiss him as he rocked slowly, increasing the speed and depth of his thrusts.

"More! Move damn it, faster!" Ezra demanded.

"Ezra?"

"Harder, I need it harder." Ezra repeated his demand.

ooOOOoo

Buck had complied with the request and fucked him into the ground, and it was good, it was very, very good!

Now however, the endorphins had worn off and a night on the hard ground had wrought its revenge, he was paying the price for indulging his baser instincts.

He walked a few steps away from the bed roll, casting his eye around looking for the Two-Blood. Not seeing him, but discovering a pile of clothing, he wondered if his friend had changed into wolf form and gone for a run. Now that they knew about Buck's true nature, Ezra had chided himself he had not seen the signs before. He prided himself that he could see peoples’ 'tells', and yet he had missed everyone of Buck's. After all - no matter how late Buck went to bed, no matter what 'activities' he got up to in the night, he was never late up, he was a habitual early riser. Buck liked his steak so rare it ran with blood when cut; he rarely if ever ate any vegetables. And when he slept - and Ezra had watched him sleep while on watch often enough on the trail - he always started on his back but ended up on his side; all his long limbs stretched out to the side, his head tucked down against his chest; it was a very canine position. And then there were the dreams. When Buck dreamt he twitched, his limbs jerked and trembled and he made little growl-like sounds and yips. When you took it all together it was so obvious, he could have kicked himself.

His musings were interrupted when he spotted Buck, the true Buck not the wolf. He had evidently been bathing and shaving in the creek, as he now walked, naked and wet, up the bank to retrieve his clothing. Ezra watched transfixed as the big, lean gunman casually pulled on his clothing over his still wet boy.

"Mornin' Ez!" Buck called as he noticed Standish staring at him. "Why don't you wash up while I get coffee started?"

ooOOOoo

Buck and Ezra were headed to a mining town in the mountains, called Blue Creek. The sheriff had arrested a man who had tried to rob the stage. He matched the description of a man who had attempted to rob the bank in Four Corners, although he had failed, mainly due to Ezra's quick thinking, he had killed a cowboy as he stole his horse to make a successful escape. Since only Ezra had seen the man up close, he was travelling to Blue Creek to make a formal identification. Buck came along because it was, as a general rule, safer not to travel alone. No one seemed to know much about Blue Creek, other than it was apparently thriving. As they made their way higher up into the mountains a small breeze picked up, for which they were truly grateful. They entered the town with the breeze on their backs.

Blue Creek was relatively small, much the same size as Four Corners but the streets were crowded and the buildings all looked new or in good order. As they made their way along the main street looking for the sheriff's office, Ezra became aware of an unpleasant odour. As they got closer to the end of the town the wind shifted, so that now it was more to their side rather than their backs and suddenly the odour got stronger.

Ezra turned to look at Buck, if he found the smell unpleasant, he hated to think how it was affecting Buck with his much more finely attuned senses. The answer was there for him to see, Buck looked grey or even green. Standish wouldn't have been surprised if he had leapt from Steel's back then and there, and run for the nearest outhouse.

"Um, Ezra?" Buck said somewhat unsteadily.

"Go my friend, I will ascertain the man's identity and join you - back at the creek?" Ezra offered. "Just what is that smell, anyway?"

"Tannery, up in the hills to our left, I'm sorry Ez, if I lived here I could have gotten used to it but like this, all of a sudden…" Buck looked very guilty.

"Go, I will be fine, go…go." Buck tipped his hat at Ezra and with a smile turned is horse back the way they had come and galloped out of town.

ooOOOoo

As it turned out it wasn't the same man. True, they were of similar height, colouring and build but it wasn't the same man. Ezra resisted the desire to engage in a game of poker with people who didn't know him, and after purchasing a meal, headed for the store. Finally loaded up with oranges, - an expensive rarity, but remembering the night before he considered Buck worth it - biscuits, bacon, a pair of steaks, and an apple pie he headed back toward the creek. By keeping up a good pace he reckoned he would make it back just before dusk.

He found Steel easily enough. The big grey was hobbled so he wouldn't wander too far and was standing in the shallows browsing on the lush vegetation along the creek banks. Buck's big, well cared for saddle was propped up against a tree, his clothes overflowing out of his saddle bags, and his boots sitting neatly beside the saddle. Buck had clearly 'gone wolf' as JD liked to put it.

Ezra unsaddled his own horse and, like Steel, hobbled him and turned him loose. He built a fire, not something he did often because he wasn't very good at it, the others always did it, claiming it was quicker than watching Standish struggling. When he was done, it was getting dark, and still Buck had not returned. Once he had brought the hoses back to camp and tethered them, he tried calling but still Buck did not show. Eventually he had to cook his steak and eat, still calling occasionally. When Buck did not come in response to the smell of cooking Ezra tried firing his gun in the air but to no avail. In the hours since he had returned to the creek side, Buck's absence had generated a variety of emotions in the southerner. First amusement and a little disappointment, then irritation and annoyance that quickly moved to anger, but as darkness fell anger became worry and now, in the black of the night, fear.

Buck was not like Chris or Josiah or come to that Vin, he just didn't take off and not tell anyone, he would never let a friend worry about him unnecessarily. Too worried to sleep Ezra sat by the fire waiting for dawn. As the sky paled he penned a note and tucked it into Buck's saddlebags with his clothes and saddled his own horse.

ooOOOoo

The wolf had been enjoying just being alive, running in the sun for the sheer joy of running, picking up scents and following them, not to find where they until lead, not to track down the prey that had left them, but just because he could. Then he had picked up a new scent, a female wolf, a female in season, a scent no wolf, no matter what his heritage, could ignore. Lifting his head he tried to get a better sense of where the she wolf was. Then he was up and running, stopping every now and again to check his progress, finally he found her. She was young, maybe only three and she stood in a small wooded grove. The scent of her was intoxicating, it clung to the ground and the trees, it hung in the still, swelteringly hot air. Only the smallest, lightest of breezes disturbed the warm air heavy with her enticing aroma. He approached.

Suddenly something snapped up all around the huge wolf, one moment he was walking towards the waiting female, the next he was lifted up off the ground as a net hidden under the dusty soil snapped up. He struggled ineffectually against the strong net that held him prisoner as it swung four feet of the ground.

Frankie Williams approached the grove from his down wind hiding place. He bent and patted the she wolf.

"Good girl Sheba, snared a good one." He walked up to and around the snarling angry wolf. "Jeez, you’re a big one, aren’t you?" He approached to get a closer look; in response the wolf snarled and snapped so much he stepped back. "Big and mean, oh you are just perfect my fine, fierce friend."

Williams let loose a loud whistle and in response a wagon rumbled into the wooded grove, driven by a second man. As the net was lowered toward the wagon, the powerful wolf prepared himself to make a break for freedom. But just as he landed on the wagon he found the men were both behind him and in front, so he couldn't watch both. And that was his undoing because suddenly he gave a yelp of surprise and pain as something sharp hit his rump.

The second man held up a syringe. "Thank God for morphine!" he exclaimed as he watched the wolf try and fail to fight off the effects of the drug. When the big wolf regained his senses he was in an iron cage in the back of a dark moving wagon. The cage had been built for an average sized wolf, such a wolf could have stood up and just about turned around in the small cage, but this wolf was huge and he could neither stand properly nor lie down without curling his legs up and he couldn't turn around. In realisation of his captive state, that he was a prisoner travelling who knew where, that his pack would have no way to track him and rescue him, the wolf let out a howl of rage and despair.

Frankie's brother Rhys turned back to shout at the wolf from the driver's seat. "You shut yer yap!" The wolf growled and snarled at him, rattling the bars as he tried to get at his tormentor and captor. "You carry on like that an' I'm gonna pump you so full a morphine you won't wake up 'till we git there!" Miraculously the huge wolf went quiet, as if he actually understood the threat.

ooOOOoo

Ezra cursed himself repeatedly as he slowly circled out from the campsite on foot, searching for any sign or clue as to where Buck might have gone. If he had only listened when Vin had been instructing JD on how to track. The hot spell had baked the ground hard as rock, the grass away from the creek was brown and stunted, nothing marked the wolf’s passing. After more than three hours of fruitless searching he gave up and mounted his horse. Steel whinnied at him as if to say 'Where is my master? Why are you leaving without him?'.

"I will find him for you, have no fear my faithful friend, you remain here in case he returns." Ezra spoke softly to the big horse.

Ezra rode out and began to spiral out from the campsite, calling, shooting and searching for any sign of man or wolf. He hadn't eaten breakfast and didn't stop for lunch as he became more desperate and afraid. It was getting on to dusk when he came upon the wooded grove. Dismounting - the better to search in the shadows under of the trees - he finally found some signs, signs so clear even he couldn't miss them. A wagon had been driven into the grove and had left in the same direction; which had to be significant. Mounting up again he began to follow the wagon tracks as they lead away from the grove, it quickly became clear the tracks were heading north. Eventually it became too dark for him to follow the marks - which while clear in daylight were almost indistinguishable in the fading light - so despite the urge to keep following, he forced himself to stop and make camp. If he lost the tracks in the night what, help could he be?

ooOOOoo

The wagon carrying the wolf rumbled to a halt. The driver dismounted ignoring the creature imprisoned within. Rhys met his brother who had ridden ahead with his pet wolf Sheba at a pre-arranged campsite.

"You wanna go for a second one?" Rhys asked.

It was normally their practise to return to their client with at least two wolves.

"No, look at the size of him. No he's worth almost as much as two little un's. 'Sides weather's about to change, no… we'll head back now."

The cage had an opening at the bottom of the front panel high enough for a dish to be pushed through. Only when both men and the she wolf had been fed, did the men push in a dish of water and drop in a hunk of salt beef. The huge wolf drank the water after sniffing it carefully, but refused the meat, snarling at the men.

"Suit yourself, ain't no skin off my nose if ya starve yer self," Frankie commented as he left the wagon.

ooOOOoo

Ezra forced himself to make a fire and eat. If Buck was lost out there someplace he might see the fire and it would do Buck no good if he faltered through lack of food and rest. Eventually he fell asleep only to be woken an hour or so before dawn with a massive thunder crack.

"NO!" Ezra shouted just as the first raindrop hit his face.

Why, he asked himself, did God send the rain now? Now - when it would obliterate every sign the wagon had left. Why did God not want him to save one he had so obviously blessed? For in truth Ezra failed to see how anyone could have endured what Buck had in his life and retained his humanity, retained his honesty and decency, become in fact a force for good, if he were not blessed by God.

But God was not listening, and the heavens opened in earnest and the rain came in torrents to scour the earth of every sign and clue as to the fate of the missing Two-Blood. There was nothing he could now do but call the pack for help.

ooOOOoo

"What the hell happened?" Chris demanded as he dismounted just outside Blue Creek.

The rest of the Four Corners pack had ridden like the wind to reach the town, but it had still taken them nearly a full day and a half to reach Ezra. The gambler explained the events leading up to Buck's disappearance and his attempts to find him as they rode out to the campsite where the ever-patient Steel still waited for his master to return. Chris, ever the alpha male and pack leader, took command.

"Nathan - I want you and JD to stay here in case he comes back, JD you give Steel some exercise. Ezra, you'll take the rest of us out to this place were you found the wagon tracks. After you show us where you lost the tracks, you and Josiah head into town see what you can fine out, Buck's one big wolf, maybe if someone shot him they'll be boasting about it."

"He's not dead!" JD stated angrily.

None of them had wanted to acknowledge this fear, but many farmers and ranchers would shoot a wolf on sight without a second thought, every time Buck 'went wolf', especially during the day, he took that risk, but it fell to their leader to voice it.

"I don't believe it either JD, but it remains a possibility. Whatever happened we will stay until we know or Buck is back with us, I promise you we will not give up on him!" He placed his hand on the younger, smaller man’s shoulder. "Look after Steel, keep a good watch, all right?"

JD nodded his agreement.

In the grove, Vin found evidence of the ropes used to hoist the net into the air, places on the tree branch where the bark had been rubbed smooth. Ezra was even more convinced Buck had been captured, not shot or trapped. The possibility that Buck was lying somewhere, caught in a trap, bleeding and in pain had haunted his nightmares and invaded his thoughts even during the day. Action, something to do, to be instructed and not have to make the decisions somehow made it easier to bear the fear and uncertainty.

Ezra had been right about the thunderstorm, no sign of the wagon was left, all they knew was that it had been going north before the trail was lost. Ezra and Josiah spent their time in the town asking questions and keeping their ears and eyes open. After two days it was beginning to look hopeless and Chris was intending to just head north and hope to find something. That night Ezra entered yet another game of poker with no enthusiasm or intention to win. People were more loose-lipped when they were winning.

"Tell me sir," he addressed the well-dressed older looking cowboy at the table. "Does anyone around here engage in any other form of sport a gentlemen might wager upon?"

Just why someone would apparently go to the trouble of capturing a wolf instead of killing it had been taxing Ezra for some time.

"What kind sport would you be interested in young fella?" the man asked, taking two cards. "I'll open for two."

"Oh any kind, in my own state of Louisiana there were cock fights for example, where a man might places a friendly wager…see your two and raise you two."

"Well, now you mention it, I heard of a place north of here, don't know about cocks but they got dog fightin'…see you and raise you five."

"Most interesting, do you know any more about this place? See your five raise you another five."

"Don't know where exactly, but I heard it was two hundred ante just to get in through the door…call."

The man lay down three jacks. Now he had the information he needed Ezra was disinclined to let the man win, especially now he needed two hundred dollars. So, with not even the smallest of smiles, he lay down his five diamonds to take the pot, which came to twenty three dollars, so with what he had already he was still one hundred and fifty six short.

ooOOOoo

With no more information Chris determined they would move north following in the general direction of the wagon. It the course of the next two days, they passed through several towns and discovered some more information. The dogfights were held at a ranch near a town called Pine Springs, the two hundred dollar ante was true, but a guest could accompany each player. On arrival at Pine Springs only Ezra and Nathan entered the town.

It was decided that Ezra would play the part of a bored southern gentleman looking for some sport, Nathan would be his manservant. While Ezra played poker to picking up the extra hundred they needed, the two of them would try to find out more and hopefully get Ezra an invite and, more importantly, an exact location.

"Oh Nathan?"

"Yessir." Nathan really, really hated playing the 'boy' and if Buck's freedom or even his life hadn't been at stake, he wouldn't ever have considered it. What Nathan didn't know was that Ezra hated to play the 'master' just as much, and was only doing it for exactly the same reasons.

"Take the bags to the hotel, register us then come and find me." With that, Ezra strode across the street toward the biggest, most opulent looking saloon he had seen in a very long time.

He practically drowned in the smell of money and gambling as he entered the fine establishment, even the working girls were tastefully dressed. It didn't take long for him to locate the bigger players and most profitable games. As the afternoon wore on to evening Ezra worked his way through the games, toward the big game in the back room. Nathan played the attentive servant to perfection while trying to get information from the girls, bar staff and even other servants he identified. Finally, at around ten in the evening, Ezra had just taken a big pot of around a hundred and sixty dollars. He now had close to two hundred and fifty dollars. If possible, he wanted to get to six hundred - that way all of them could get in.

"Mr Sands?" A man approached Ezra as he collected his money.

"Sir? Ah don't believe ah have the honour of your acquaintance."

"I'm Mr Ross's foreman, he wants you to join the game." The man who spoke was an average looking man, with bad teeth and receding hair.

Ezra stood up, placing his winnings in his wallet.

"Come Nathan," he commanded, not bothering to look at Jackson.

"Just you, Mr Sands," the foreman warned.

The foreman raised an eyebrow as Ezra handed his wallet to Nathan..

"Mr…?" Ezra enquired.

"Don Cole." The man supplied.

"Mr Cole, I trust Nathan completely, where I go my money goes and therefore so does Nathan."

Cole turned to view the very tall well-built Negro behind Ezra, he certainly didn't want to tangle with him.

"Very well, this way." He indicated the way to the closed back room.

ooOOOoo

The back room was actually a fairly good imitation of a small gentleman's club. The circular gaming table in the centre was covered in the finest green baize and trimmed with Moroccan leather. The chairs were mahogany, generously upholstered in dark green leather. The lamps suspended above the table were made of gleaming brass and topped with bottle green glass. Under normal circumstances Ezra would have been in seventh heaven, he could have died right there and been happy. The men around the table were clearly taking a break from their gaming, but looking at the money sitting ready in front of the various seats, this was very definitely the big game. If he played it right not only would he get his invite to the dog fights, but also the stake money.

A tall man with steel grey hair and a cut glass tumbler in his hand walked around the table.

"You must be Mr Edward Sands, I'm Leland Ross welcome to my saloon." He held out his hand and they shook.

"Ah am very glad to meet you Mr Ross, and may ah compliment you sir, on such a fine oasis of gentlemanly civilisation. Ah had despaired of findin' such comforts and such stimulatin' challenges this far west."

Nathan personally thought Ezra was laying the accent on a bit thick, but Ross seemed to be lapping it up.

"And who would this be?" Ross indicated Nathan.

"That is Nathan, where ah go he goes, it is rule of mine." He turned to Jackson and extending his hand clicked his fingers. "Money Nathan!" he commanded.

Obediently, Nathan handed over the well-stuffed wallet. The point was well made and no one questioned Nathan's presence. The game went well, some of the men were skilled players, others just very rich and liked to think they were good. None were so good Ezra had to resort to cheating, although he was quite prepared to do that if needed. Ezra regaled his new gaming partners with tales of his gaming exploits both real and imagined. He told them of cock fights in New Orleans, poker tournaments on riverboats, horse racing in Kentucky and alligator wrestling in Louisiana.

"Tell me mister Sands, have you ever seen dog fighting?" Ross finally asked.

"Once or twice, but the contests were so uneven there was very little sport in it. Why do you ask?" Ezra tried desperately to remain calm.

"I have an interest in the sport, breed my own dogs and even hold the occasional contest for a select invited players. I was wondering if you would be interested?"

Ezra didn't want to seem too keen and they still didn't know if Buck had been taken to fight.

"Ah might be, what sport is there?"

"We have dog fights, and to add variety we pit the best dogs against other opponents, rather than each other. No one wants to lose his best dog to a friend."

"Other opponents?" Ezra asked.

"Yes, mountain lions, wolverines, bears, and wolves. Of course sometimes we have to put up more than one dog or there would be no contest, but it is fine sport, might I interest you? We had a meeting only this last weekend but there will be another this weekend coming, costs two hundred to get in."

"Ah may well be, ah..er…ah have couple of acquaintances, they are due to meet me here in a few days who might be interested as well." Ezra decided to strike while the iron was hot.

"Can you vouch for them?"

"Most assuredly, both are a little rough and ready but wealthy men and lovers of good sport."

"Who are these gentlemen?" Ross enquired.

"Mr Christopher Lawson, a horse breeder from California travelling with his younger brother Vincent, and Mr Joseph Sanchez and his son Juan, from Mexico. Young Juan has been studying in the East, Senor Sanchez wishes the boy to gain some more 'experience' if you understand?"

"Oh indeed I do. Them eastern colleges can be a mite soft on a boy. My man Cole will give you directions, the fights begin next Friday, at around eight p.m., at my ranch. I'm sure you will find it entertaining."

ooOOOoo

The ranch proved to be huge, the house new and very large. There were a number of buildings, which might house the dogfights, but without getting closer even with Vin's telescope, it was impossible to tell which. Security was high; a man with a rifle on the water tower, another in the hayloft meant no one could approach the ranch undetected. Cole had made it clear to Ezra no 'players' would be admitted before Friday. So, much as they hated it, the pack had to wait it out until Friday, which since it was only Monday, was a whole five days away. Chris and Vin made an appearance in town playing the parts Ezra had set up for them, likewise Josiah and JD. They refrained from gambling, but Ezra continued to play in order to raise the six hundred they were going to need. In between being seen in town they kept a watch on the ranch, but although they saw dogs there was no sign of any other animals. Then on the third day the wind picked up and changed direction.

The wolf had been placed in a cage just six feet square and three feet high. He was given water, but only minimal food.

"Keep 'im hungry Jack," Cole had told the man who fed the dogs and other animals. "Keep 'im hungry an' mean."

The cage, along with three others, was underground, the ceiling so low the guard could barely stand upright. It was dark most of the time and it smelled bad - the odour was bad enough for humans, but for the other creatures incarcerated down there the stench was overpowering and relentless. The huge wolf was stiff and sore, he just ached to stretch his legs to run, and down in the darkness it was impossible to tell how long he had been there. He was hungry and although he got water it was warm and stale, so he dreamt of cool clear creek water, and of the one he had been with beside such a creek only a short time ago. At least he thought it was a short time ago. He had examined the cage carefully, iron bars on the floor meant he couldn't dig his way out. The door was locked with a new looking padlock. At first he though they knew he was a Two-Blood, but on spotting that all the other cages had new looking padlocks hanging from the doors he dismissed the idea. Perhaps since wolf pelts, not to mention bears skins were valuable the captive animals had to locked up to protect them. He then had a sickening thought, his pelt was only worth stealing now, not after they were finished with him. Just how much damage was there going to be? Well if they wanted him mean they had it, he was one angry, mean, pissed of wolf and any chance he was offered he would be away, and if he got to bite a chunk out of one of his tormentors, so much the better.

Jack opened the doors at the far end of the underground structure and descended the steps. He left the doors open to increase the light and make the stench less unpleasant. A warm breeze blew in from the surrounding hills and carried on it was a faint scent. At first the wolf didn't notice, then another gust of wind blew in. He raised his head and sniffed, the scent was familiar, something safe and calming, he sniffed again and finally recognising the scent and what it meant, the huge lupine threw back his massive head and howled, and howled.

ooOOOoo

There was just something so distinctive about that howl, something so pain filled, that JD stood up suddenly, quickly followed by Sanchez.

"It's him," the young man breathed, "Oh God - listen to him - he sounds so sad!"

"Then we better give him something to feel happy about, hadn't we?" With that Sanchez let loose his own howl, except it was more like singing, as if it was a full moon and he was singing at the moon. Quickly JD joined in, adding his higher but equally powerful voice to Josiah's bass.

When his call was returned, the wolf just howled all the harder, but this was a call of greeting and relief. They were there, his pack had come for him, they would rescue him, he wasn't alone, they hadn't forgotten him or abandoned him, his family had come for him!

"You shut yer noise!" Jack ran his long heavy stick along the bars. "Shut up! Or I'll smash yer teeth - in see how long you last like that!"

The wolf just growled at him, approaching the bars menacingly, licking his lips, and still the low growl continued in the back of his throat. Outside, the howl the wolf had answered was faint and to Jack's ears somehow not quite normal, but the huge wolf threw back his head once more and howled in reply

"You think they're here for you? What - you think a pack of mangy wolves is gonna save you? Oh no my friend, yer fate is sealed, you ain't ever gettin' outta here!"

More than anything the wolf wanted to tell him, show him, how wrong he was. But that was just too risky. No, he could wait it out, no matter how long it took the pack was here and they would come for him.

That night the two voices that had called to the wolf were joined by four more, but with the doors shut they couldn't hear his reply to their song. Still they sang, reaching out to their captured pack-mate with every fibre of their beings. Ross stood on the veranda and listened.

"What do you reckon Cole?" he asked the Forman.

"Don't get it sir, that big fella he just keeps callin' to 'um but we can't find sight nor sound of them. We found evidence of a camp, but no wolves, not so much as one paw print. I tell you it's weird."

"Whose camp?"

"Don't know that either, they pulled out long before we got there, looked like seven horses, that’s all I know."

The two men listened a while longer until the strange wolf song stopped. "It ain't like any wolf howlin' I ever heard a'fore sir, it's more like singing than howlin'." Ross nodded his agreement with his subordinate's assessment.

"Double the guard on the stock, tell them to shoot to kill if they have to, come Saturday this will all be over." With that the wealthy rancher turned and retired inside for the night.

ooOOOoo

"Can't we just go in there and bust him out?" JD demanded.

"No we can't," Chris stated firmly.

"But we don't know what they’re doing to him in there, I mean … to them he's just an animal!" JD pleaded. Only he and Josiah had heard the first, lonely howl before Buck had heard them and begun to sing rather than howl.

"JD, they need him alive, and reasonably fit, until they want him to fight they will look after him, at least they won't hurt him. Yes, they think he's just a wolf, so if we go in there and something goes wrong they're gonna have no compunction about killing him, and you know there is nothing we could do about it, because they will have killed a wolf, and that ain't no crime," Josiah tried to explain to the distraught young man, "I know you want him out, we all do." Sanchez glanced at Ezra, no poker face could hide his distress. "But for Buck we have to be strong and patient, he knows we're here, he knows he's no longer alone. Be strong John Dunne, take your strength from the pack, only together are we strong enough to do this."

JD nodded, bowing his head to hide just how distressed he was by this turn of events. With the increased guards around the ranch it wasn't possible to return without possibly blowing their cover stories. All of them hoped Buck understood that they had not abandoned him.

The days leading to Friday dragged. Ezra resorted to cheating to get the remaining money they needed, not because he needed to but because he just couldn't be bothered not to, they needed the money and the quicker the better.

Come Friday all of them, especially Ezra, were nervous. Normally the Southerner never got edgy before a con, but never had so much been at stake. Never had he been trying to save not just a friend, but someone who might very well prove to be the most important person in his life. But he put his nervousness to the back of his mind. In this operation he was the leader, the others, even Chris, would look to him for a lead. As the six of them rode toward the ranch, Ezra reminded them to stay in character, characters they had been rehearsing daily since Ezra had explained them. He cautioned them on over-reacting, warned them not to give the game away until Chris gave the signal to act. He told them, and prayed he could do the same.

The building they had suspected of being the venue of the so-called 'sport' did indeed prove to be a semicircular dog pit. The steep sides were lined in wood, white washed and ominously splattered with what had to be blood. The top edge was over hung to stop any animal, most likely the mountain lions Ross had mentioned, jumping out. Around it there were seats, actually little more than benches in two banked tiers. Powerful lamps were suspended over the pit and lined the walls. Off to the side was an opening leading into what appeared to be a private bar.

"It's very impressive," Chris breathed in Ezra's ear.

"It's barbaric," Nathan commented.

Their host welcomed the new 'players' and introduced them to some of his friends and fellow dog owners. The fights were brutal, and sickening. So much so JD had to leave rather than watch when a brave white bitch, who, having lost, lay down and submitted, as she tried to save herself, but the other dog just kept ripping at the poor thing. Her pathetic whimpers and yelps were too much for the young man and he fled the building. Luckily his behaviour fitted into his persona of the eastern educated boy who needed toughening up. Vin walked up to him as he stood staring at the half moon in the clear sky of another sweltering night.

"You all right kid?" he asked.

"No! I am not all right! I…I am, God that is just…how can people call that sport?" JD stammered out.

"Nature is cruel JD, animals fight to the death all the time."

"If they have to! Not just so some rich guys can’t feel so bored ‘cos, they have so much money and nothing to do!"

"Yeah, yer right, but we have to do this just a bit longer, just until we find Buck. Can you do that?"

JD took a deep breath, cleared his eyes and nodded. "I can make it, I won't let Buck down."

Disappointingly there was no wolf baiting on Friday, Chris, Josiah and Ezra had made some small bets but nothing big, none of them had lost badly. Chris was slightly up on the night, Ezra more or less even and Josiah was only slightly down. Ross came over to Ezra as the evening wound up.

"Did you enjoy the sport, Mr Sands?" he asked brightly.

"Indeed sir most entertaining and diverting. The sport continues tomorrow? Ah was most intrigued by your mention of wild beasts."

"Of course, your entry is already paid, we will be very happy to have you, you and your friends. They too had a good time?" he enquired.

"Ah believe so, yes."

"I noticed the lad go a little green about the gills, he recovered?" Ezra nodded. "I see why the father wanted to bring him out here, boy needs to toughen up some!"

"Quite." If you only knew just how tough that boy really is! Ezra thought. Well you will, you will!

It seemed unbelievably cruel to have to wait another day, they were all too well aware that Buck must have known they were there, so close he must have smelled them with no difficulties. Chris knew he had to keep his men occupied until the second visit to the dog pit. They set up camp just outside the ranch boundary. JD gave Steel some gentle exercise, Ezra took out Buck's crumpled clothing and washed it, before doing his best to dry it flat and brush some shape into the jacket. Vin went out and hunted down some game, returning with a freshly shot small deer. The other three were, by nature, much calmer and more able to sit out the agonising wait, but even for them the last few hours dragged.

And the waiting wasn't over. It seemed wolf baiting was to be the highlight of the evening and the very last event. Finally, when even Chris though he couldn't stand the wait any longer; Ross called for attention.

"My friends!" he began, "As is traditional we end with a spectacle. My prize dog, Sultan and Tom Liner's King will open against a worthy opponent. As before, once you have viewed the foe you may place bets with the house as to how long the contest runs and how many dogs it takes to end it. You will not be disappointed my friends, this one is magnificent!"

"What does all that mean?" asked Vin.

"It means," Ezra explained. "That once we have viewed the wolf…Buck, we can place bets as to how long and how many dogs it will take to kill him."

"So Buck has no chance, no matter how hard he fights he dies?" JD clarified.

"No!" Chris stated firmly. "Because we are here. Spread out and watch for my signal. Go!" he commanded.

The six men dispersed into the throng, as the other patrons crowded the sides of the semicircle to catch sight of the night's sacrificial lamb. There were gasps as the truly huge wolf was released into the pit. Once in there the big creature stretched and cast his eyes up and around the sea of faces gazing at him, it was almost as if he was searching for someone. The patrons were now clamouring to make bets based on the size of the creature. Chris had no intention of letting the fight even begin and in readiness drew his gun.

"Don't move." Chris obediently froze, feeling the unmistakable pressure of a gun barrel pressed into the small of his back!