The faint scent of death floated in
through the open window. Carried on the wind, it hovered for a moment over
the sleeping man, causing him to frown and begin the slow process of waking
up. Then it was gone, as quickly and easily as it had arrived. So when the
man at last opened his eyes, it was with no memory of what had awoken
him.
Buck Wilmington grimaced as he sat up in bed. There was a damp
chillness to the air this morning. Like the chill of the grave. He felt a
strong urge to just stay in bed and pull the covers over his head. Something
he had never done, even as a boy. He snorted in amusement as he forced
himself to get out of bed and quickly pulled his pants and shirt on. He'd
been listening to Josiah and Vin telling ghost stories last night. If they
knew how spooked they'd managed to get him, he'd never hear the end of
it.
Grabbing his coat - it really was cold in here, - he headed out the
door to seek the company of his friends. But as he was shrugging his left
arm into the sleeve, his hand brushed against the framed picture sitting on
the chest of drawers. It fell to the floor with a loud crash, causing Buck
to jump and swear. He glanced down at the picture of him and the other six
men who together were known as the Magnificent Seven. He had alternately
coaxed, bullied and begged his friends to pose for it one day when a
travelling photographer was passing through town. It was among Buck's most
prized possessions. Looking at it lying there, surrounded by broken glass,
he felt a superstitious shudder pass through him. He really needed to get a
hold of himself. Go get some breakfast, maybe show JD a few more things
about how to survive being sheriff. Normal, everyday stuff.
He exited
the boarding house and immediately felt better at the warm kiss of sunlight.
He spotted Josiah and hurried over to where the big man sat, just outside
the saloon.
"Mornin' pard," Buck called cheerfully as he
approached.
"The crows. Their time is at hand." Josiah gestured towards
something and Buck turned instinctively to look. There was indeed a large
flock of the black carrion eaters roosting in the middle of the dusty
street. He ran toward them, waving his arms and yelling, but the birds just
looked at him with dark unblinking eyes. Buck's earlier mood of unease began
to return. Everything seemed to be slightly off kilter this morning and he
didn't like it. He turned back to Josiah, but the ex preacher was gone.
Instead, he saw Mrs. Potter, kneeling down amidst the scattered contents of
her morning shopping expedition. Buck walked over to her and crouched down,
about to offer his assistance when he heard a frantic voice
calling.
"Help! You gotta help! Somebody!" It was Casey. She was running
down the street towards him, her pants dusty and ripped at the knee, face
dirty and tear streaked.
Buck had already risen to his feet and was
about to step off the boardwalk when he heard Mrs. Potter speak for the
first time.
"Don't go." Her voice had a hollow sound. As if it were
echoing across a vast distance. He glanced behind him in annoyance. What did
she mean, don't go? He couldn't believe she thought helping her pick up a
few apples was more important than finding out what was wrong with Casey.
The words died on his lips, however, as he caught a glimpse of her face. For
one terrible moment, it had seemed as if two black burning holes were there
in place of her eyes. He shook his head and turned back around, hurrying
over to where Casey was standing, hands outstretched pleadingly in his
direction.
"Casey. Ssshh, it's ok. Tell Buck what's the matter," he spoke
soothingly to the distraught girl, putting his arms gently around
her.
"It's JD. He's hurt real bad. You gotta come, Buck." She shivered
and Buck could feel the chill of her flesh through his clothes. It was an
unpleasant sensation.
"Of course I'll come, Casey. Let me go get
Nathan and then you can show us where he is." Buck was sick with fear over
the kid. His first instinct was to find JD now. He had to have been hurt
bad to get the girl this upset. But in that case, they were going to need
the healer and it would be worth the few minutes delay.
He tried to
explain this to Casey when she shook her head vehemently at his directions.
She tore free from his arms and began running back down the street the way
she'd come. Buck followed her, cursing.
She seemed to run as fast as the
wind. Every time Buck got within a hairsbreadth of catching her, she'd surge
forward, leaving him behind. He didn't know how far they'd run, or even
exactly where they were when he finally lost sight of her. He didn't know
what the hell the girl was thinking. How was he supposed to help if he
didn't know where JD was? Gasping for air, sides heaving and lungs burning,
he had to stop. Stop and catch his breath. Stop and figure out what the hell
he should do. He had just about got his wind back when he heard a soft voice
calling his name.
"Buck. Bucklin." It was Vin. Staggering through the
brush, the tracker appeared to be on the verge of exhaustion. His skin was
pale and clammy. His eyes appeared sunken, their normal vivid hue muted and
dulled. There were scratches on his face and a streak of blood trailing from
his forehead down across one cheek. Vin swayed unsteadily on his feet as he
came to a stop before the other man. Buck caught him an instant before the
tracker's suddenly inert form toppled towards the earth.
He lowered
the still figure gently to the ground and put a hand against the tracker's
neck. He could just barely feel the beat of his pulse. Buck had to strain
his eyes in order to see the faint rise and fall of his chest. Shit. He
didn't know what to do. Patting Vin gently on the cheeks, he tried to revive
him enough to find out what happened. But there was no response. Buck
glanced up from his friend's body and peered hopefully in the last known
direction of the vanished Casey. Nothing.
Praying he was doing the
right thing, his heart feeling like lead in his chest, Buck slid one arm
beneath Vin's knees and the other beneath his neck and scooped him up into
his arms. He shifted his grip a bit and slowly got to his feet. He looked
down at the unconscious man in his arms and swallowed back the lump forming
in his throat. Was JD still aware? Wondering where his friends were? Well,
Buck needed to get Vin back to town and then he'd find JD. The kid could
hold on that long. He had to. And he had Casey with him. At least Buck
hoped so. Grimly he started walking, the weight of the tracker in his arms
feeling infinitely lighter than the burden of guilt in his
soul.
After a while, Buck began talking out loud. As if Vin could hear
him. He needed a distraction from his aching arms and legs as well as from
his terror filled thoughts about what could have befallen JD.
"Chris
is gonna find some way to blame this on me if ya don't wake up," he told the
tracker only half jokingly. "
"I think he knows that I sometimes... well I
guess there were a few times I wished you hadn't ever come to town. But that
was a long time ago. Things are different now. I've seen how good you are
for Chris. He needs a friend like you. I just didn't want to admit that at
first. That I couldn't be the kind of friend he needed. Or
wanted."
"Chris ain't a forgiving man. I reckon you've figured that out by
now. So he ain't too likely to forgive life a second time around for lettin'
someone he cares about die on him. And I don't aim to be the one to bring
him that kind of news. Not ever again. So you're just gonna have to open
them baby blues of yours. The ones that drive half the women in town wild."
Buck paused and looked down at the still figure in his arms. If anything,
Vin looked worse. His skin was icy cold to the touch and there were dark
rings circling his eyes. Buck was uncomfortably reminded of Mrs. Potter and
what he thought he'd seen on her face.
"Of course, even with them
baby blues of yours, you've still got a long ways to go before you'll be as
popular with the ladies as old Buck." He tried to force a note of
lighthearted cheer into his voice. The result was ghastly. He sounded like
he was on the edge of hysteria instead. Time for a different approach.
"I think maybe we should lock JD up for his own good. What do you think?
That boy is a menace. Always gettin' himself and anybody unlucky enough to
be with him into no end of trouble. It's a full time job being his friend.
I think he needs a keeper." Buck tried to continue, but his voice would no
longer obey him. He looked up ahead and almost felt like crying in relief as
he saw the outskirts of town up ahead.
Buck strode rapidly down the
streets of town calling out for Nathan. The town seemed deserted. There was
no one out in the street except a man he'd never seen before sweeping a
broom back and forth across the entrance to the saloon. A prickling feeling
started on the back of his neck and ran down his spine. Something was wrong.
Everything was wrong. He had just passed the saloon on his way to the clinic
when the strange man paused in his sweeping.
"He's in there. They all
are." The man's voice was thin and high. Grating on Buck's already frayed
nerves. He shoved roughly past the man, still carrying Vin, and entered the
saloon.
The first person he saw was Chris Larabee, stretched out across
a table. A gaping hole spread across the gunslinger's chest and his face was
contorted, locked in a pain-filled grimace. Nathan was standing nearby , muttering something over and over. As Buck watched in horror, the
healer lifted his arms, showing the stumps where his hands used to be. Tears
the color of blood were rolling down his cheeks. Buck felt the bile rise in
his throat. He looked around the saloon. Bodies were strewn everywhere. He
became aware of the stench of blood and death all around him. The urge to
vomit became almost overpowering. He had almost forgotten about the tracker
in his horror at the carnage all around him when he felt Vin stir. The blue
eyes fluttered open and gazed at Buck desperately.
"Ya gotta stop
this, Buck. I came back to tell ya." Vin was so weak, his voice was the
merest whisper. Buck stared down at him, still reeling from shock.
"Came back? To tell me?" Buck repeated dumbly.
"Ain't got much
time. Listen." The tracker's voice was frightening in its intensity. But
before he could continue, Buck caught sight of Casey and began making his
way over to her, desperate to find out what had happened to JD. Why the
world had suddenly turned upside down. Why everyone was bleeding.
Dying.
Vin clutched the front of Buck's coat with feeble hands. "Listen."
He insisted fiercely. Buck hesitated and looked down.
"You have to
stop them. You're the only one who can." The tracker drew in a deep,
quivering breath.
"What do I do, Vin?" Buck asked. He was willing to
listen to anything that might put a stop to this madness. He leaned over and
put his ear close to the tracker's lips. The screams and noise seemed to
have increased steadily since Vin had begun talking. Buck could hardly make
out the words.
"Have to...not let...JD is...when they...make sure..." Vin's words
were lost in a maelstrom of noise and confusion. The terrified look in the
tracker's eyes made Buck's soul shrivel in fear. What was going on here? He
started making his way out of the saloon, hoping it would be quieter
outside, when he tripped over something in his path. He could feel himself
falling. Could feel Vin being hurled out of his arms by the force of it.
Knew that all was lost if he didn't hold onto him. Knew that this nightmare
would never end.
"NO!!!" he shrieked as he fell endlessly into the waiting darkness.
Buck
Wilmington yawned and stretched as he opened his eyes the next morning. He
had the nagging feeling there was something he should remember. What had
woken him? Glancing out the window, he saw that it was far earlier than he
usually got up. He shivered a bit. The room was cold. And damp feeling.
He hurried out of bed and into his clothes. Still bothered by the feeling
that he was forgetting something, something important, he didn't watch what
he was doing as he pulled on his coat in an effort to ward off the strange
chill he felt.
The sound of shattering glass made him jump. He
frowned down at the picture of the Magnificent Seven that had been on his
dresser. He could have sworn that he'd already broken that frame once
before. He didn't like the strange creeping sensation that came over him at
the thought. He needed to go find something to eat and maybe some congenial
conversation.
He exited the boarding house and the first person he saw
was Josiah.
"Mornin', pard." Now why did he feel like he'd already been
through this once before?
"The crows. Their time is at hand."
Solemnly, the ex preacher raised a hand and pointed. Buck turned to look and
at the sight of the glistening black plumage, and he suddenly remembered.
Remembered everything. And knew he couldn't stop it from happening.
"NO!!!!!" Buck sank to his knees in the middle of the street, keening
like a thing gone mad. And perhaps he had. Perhaps it was better that
way.
The End
