[August, 2026]
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 12,314
Warnings: H/c, Angst
HUNTER, HUNTED
by
Goldie and
Eleanor Ward
Kid Curry is in a race against time to save his partner and himself
after being attacked by a ruthless bounty hunter.
* * *
With acknowledgement and thanks to Goldieasj
for inviting me to co-write this story
* * *
The afternoon sun shone down on the Sangre de Cristo mountains in New Mexico. Some miles northeast of Taos, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry sat by the side of a stream, cooking fish over a campfire.
“Ah, this is the life,” mused Curry. “A lovely sunny afternoon, and just look at this gorgeous scenery. Just proves that the best things in life are free.”
Heyes glared at him.
“What?” Curry looked puzzled.
“May I remind you, the last time you said something like that, we got captured by Joe Simms.”
“Pfft,” scoffed Curry. But all the same he looked around them for any possible sign of ambush.
“You sure we lost Chase?” he said presently.
Chase had spotted them three days ago, when they’d stopped off in Taos. They’d had to leave town in a hurry without even having had time to sleep in the beds they’d paid for at the local hotel. As well as having a reputation as an excellent tracker Chase was known to be a ruthless man, only interested in the bounty and not fussy if his prisoners were dead or alive by the time he delivered them to the Sheriff. He’d proved his reputation, tracking them relentlessly and they’d had to zig-zag all over the place in an attempt to lose him, eventually travelling several miles along a riverbed in the hope of covering their tracks.
The river had eventually divided in two and Heyes and Curry had followed the smaller tributary stream, which had led them to where they were now. The stream had passed between two tall rocky cliffs which opened out into a semi-circular basin that had grassy slopes of about 45 degrees, above which were layers of shale and then tall cliffs. A narrow waterfall on the top of the cliff fed water into the stream. The only way in or out was via the narrow opening they had entered by, where the stream passed between the two cliffs. They had set up camp where they could keep an eye on the entrance and so were fairly confident that they were safe there.
Heyes shrugged. “As sure as I can be. I don’t see how he could have followed us all that way through the riverbed.”
Curry nodded agreement, but as their eyes met, their lingering doubts showed more than either was prepared to voice.
“Best take turns to sleep tonight, just in case?”
Heyes nodded. “Good idea.”
And so, when darkness fell, Curry opted to take first watch while Heyes slept. Around 1 a.m. they swapped.
All remained quiet, and when the sun rose the next morning both felt certain they had eluded Chase. After breakfast, they stripped off and got into the stream to bathe. Although only about three feet deep, it was deep enough that they could submerge themselves, and they spent a pleasant half hour splashing around before adjourning to their campfire to dry off.
“Where are we going to head for?” Curry asked presently. As nice as this place was, there was no food to be had, apart from any fish they could catch in the stream. They needed to get back to civilisation.
Heyes shrugged. “Santa Fe? Albuquerque? Some good poker to be had there.”
Curry nodded thoughtfully. “Santa Fe sounds good.”
“Santa Fe it is then.”
When dry, they dressed and began to break camp; Curry saddled their horses while Heyes packed up their gear.
Suddenly, a shot rang out!
Curry heard Heyes yell in pain but the horses blocked his view. He drew his gun but was more concerned for his partner than his own safety. There were no more shots. Manoeuvring through the skittish horses, he was able to reach his partner as well as provide a block for the two of them.
Heyes was lying face down on the ground, a red patch spreading across the side of his fawn-colored shirt.
“Heyes!” Curry yelled. He scanned around for a sign of the gunman but could see nothing. Then he became aware of a deep rumbling sound. Suddenly a large section of the shale cliff began to break away and slide down towards them in an avalanche, triggered by the gunshot.
He pulled the horses over to where Heyes lay, and used them as well as his own body to shield his friend. The two of them watched in shock as tons of earth and rock slid down and across the stream at its entrance, blocking any escape.
When the noise stopped, a groan from Heyes drew Curry’s attention. He turned towards his friend, dropping to his knees to examine him. The bullet had hit in the right side of his back, just below his ribcage. Curry needed to get the bullet out and get Heyes to a doctor, fast, but they were in the middle of nowhere. Even if they could get out of there, which looked impossible following the avalanche, it would take several hours to get back to Taos and he wasn’t sure Heyes would be able to survive the journey.
“H-how… bad… is it…?” Heyes ground out.
“Looks worse than it is,” Curry lied. “I’m going to need to get this bullet out of you first, then we’ll see about getting you to a doctor.”
He crossed to his horse to retrieve his saddlebags, scanning around for any sign of the gunman, but all remained quiet.
Returning to Heyes, he pulled up his shirt and after pouring some whisky into the wound and onto his knife, he began to probe around for the bullet. With a howl of pain Heyes passed out, which made it a little easier for Curry to poke around without hurting him any further. After a few moments, he found the bullet and removed it. He then packed the wound as best he could and then ripped up one of his spare shirts to use as a bandage. It wasn’t ideal but it was the best he could do for now.
Curry carefully rolled Heyes onto his back and made him as comfortable as he could, covering him with a blanket, and making a pillow for his head from another.
Heyes’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Curry.
“Did you get it out?” he whispered.
Curry nodded. “Yeah, and I sterilized the wound with whisky, but we need to get you to a doctor.”
Heyes shifted position slightly, and groaned as pain flowed through him. “I warned you, didn’t I . . . about that saying . . . bringing bad luck?” He made a feeble attempt at a joke.
Curry rolled his eyes, but couldn’t deny the truth of his comment. “You lie still and rest, I’m going to have a look for a way out of here.”
Heyes gave a vague nod, and closed his eyes, his brow creased in pain.
Curry pulled the blanket a little more closely around his friend and then got to his feet,
scanning around for any sign of the gunman but could see no one. He headed off towards where the avalanche was blocking the entrance.
The pile of rocks and earth was higher than he had anticipated, and almost impossible to climb on foot because of how loose it was. Getting horses up and over it would be almost impossible. They would end up either breaking their legs or falling. And with Heyes injured, there was no chance of them attempting to climb out. As he clambered unsteadily around on the rubble he heard a faint cry. At first, he thought it was Heyes, but he was too far away to be heard. Kid Curry stopped climbing and listened.
A few moments later, he heard it again.
Carefully, he edged across in the direction of the sound. Then, several feet above him he saw a man, buried nearly up to his waist in the rubble. He climbed up to reach him, drawing in a gasp when he saw the face of Chase bloodied and covered in mud, but still recognizable.
Hearing his approach, Chase half opened his eyes and looked at him. Curry stared back at him, part of him wanting to draw his gun and shoot him right there, but he wasn’t a murderer. He couldn’t shoot someone in cold blood.
“H-help me…!” Chase held out his arm.
“Give me one good reason why I should?” growled Curry. “You caused this, firing that shot, injuring my partner and getting us trapped in here.”
“I have a very good reason,” the other man ground out, his face contorted in pain.
“And what would that be?” Curry raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“I know another way out of here…”
Curry snorted cynically. “Of course you do,” he scoffed.
“Well, I didn’t come in the way you did, did I…?” Chase countered.
That was true enough, Curry had to admit.
“Help me… and I’ll tell you how to get out.”
“Tell me first, and then I’ll help you,” said Curry.
Chase laughed and then broke into a hacking cough that turned into a groan
of pain. “No…” He shook his head. “You help me first. Then I’ll tell you.”
“Help you, after you just tried to kill us? Why should I?”
“Because if you don’t, you ain’t getting out of here any time soon… And your partner ain’t gonna last long … unless you can get him out of here and to a doctor…”
Curry stared at him, unsure what to do. The man claimed to know another way out, but it was possible he was just saying that in order to get help. But it was true that he hadn’t come in by the same route they had. What if he did know another escape route and Curry refused to help him? He appeared to be badly injured. Possibly he might die, without revealing the location, and even if Curry was able to find this other exit on his own, the time taken to do so could well result in Heyes dying before he could get him to a doctor.
Kid Curry hated being in this situation. His partner was injured, badly, and needed help. It didn’t appear that Curry would be able to help him.
Unless he did what the enemy wanted.
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. How did this happen? Yesterday they were running from this man, running for their lives. Trying to outwit him, and hoping . . .
“Better make up your mind soon,” Chase said. “If I die, so does your partner. That’s right – Hannibal Heyes will die unless you help me. And so will you, Curry. We’ll all die. Quit thinking and start moving. Get me the hell out of here!”
Curry instantly made up his mind. With a last sneering look at Chase, he turned around and headed back over the rocks toward Heyes.
“Hey! What the hell . . .? You loco? Now we’ll all die! You’d better . . .”
Chase’s words became harder to hear as the Kid neared his partner. That was fine with him. The amount of respect he had for the man who had hunted them down and very nearly killed both of them was minimal.
Sliding on some earth and pebbles, he reached Heyes. His partner had apparently attempted to move into a new position and his face was contorted in pain. “Kid!” he whispered.
“I know, I know.” Kid Curry kneeled down. “I’m going to get you out of here, Heyes. I’m going to get you to a doctor. Trust me.”
“You . . . can’t. Too . . . risky . . .”
“I’ve got a plan, Heyes. I know it’s going to hurt. And I’m sorry, but . . . but I need to get you some help.” The Kid stood up and looked around.
“No, Kid. No. Go! Save your . . . save yourself.” Heyes’s pain was obvious. Kid Curry felt it himself. In spite of the tears in his eyes, the Kid began gathering together some items and putting them near Heyes.
“Kid! Stop! Listen . . .listen to me . . .”
“Stop talking, Heyes. You’re just making it worse.”
“No, Kid! Go! Leave me here!”
Curry turned abruptly on his partner. “Shut up, Heyes! I’m going to get you out of here. Now just shut up for once and trust me!” It was getting worse, Curry knew. He brushed away his tears with his gloved hand and turned back to his task.
Heyes was touched. In spite of his pain and his worry, he tried to settle into a position that was the least painful. He kept quiet; thinking was easier than talking. He offered a silent prayer to whatever God sent him a loving angel like Kid Curry.
Heyes drifted in and out of sleep for a few moments. He was awakened abruptly by a pain in his back. He cried out, then realized that it was merely Kid Curry gently turning him on his side.
“Try to relax, Heyes. This won’t hurt as much if you relax. I think.”
Heyes closed his eyes and allowed himself to be moved by his friend. He felt something being maneuvered into place underneath him, and then he felt something additional being placed under him. He cried out in pain as he was then turned onto his injured side, but trusted his friend enough not to struggle.
“Sorry. I’m being as easy as I can.”
Heyes heard his friend’s voice, but the pain was clouding the words. It didn’t matter. Jed Curry was near; that’s what mattered. And the friendship they had was so strong that it could penetrate any catastrophe that would befall them. Heyes had ultimate trust in his friend.
He felt himself being turned back over onto his other side. The pain subsided slightly as his wound was now not being impacted. Heyes opened his eyes.
Kid Curry was kneeling over him, using shirt-wrapped rope to tie him into a fairly secure position.
“What’s happening, Kid?”
“I think I lost you for a few minutes there, Heyes. Might happen again. Don’t worry about it. Just try to relax. There – it’s done!”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m working on getting you out of here.”
“You keep saying that, Kid, but how can . . .?”
Curry abruptly stood and headed for the pile of rubble in the area he had started climbing a few minutes ago. Using his hands and the short spade from his saddle, he began moving rocks and pebbles to either side, opening up a narrow crevice. He tamped the ground down as he worked. Pebbles and debris kept tumbling into the new gap but he shoveled them away, causing the gap to widen. Every few minutes he used his body weight to tamp the ground down, again and again.
Kid Curry was opening a path over the rubble!
It took a couple hours, but the Kid worked hard at his task. A lot was at stake. Heyes watched him with deep admiration and appreciation.
The Kid finally took a break. He filled their canteens with water from the stream and then sat down next to Heyes.
When they’d had their fill of water, Curry took a look at Heyes’s bullet wound. “It looks like the bleeding has slowed down a lot. Good thing. We’ve got a hard road ahead of us.”
Heyes chuckled a little. “Not much of a road, Kid. Will I even fit through there?”
“Yeah. You, me, and the horses. You feel like eating something?”
“No, not yet. Still hurts.”
The Kid grabbed some jerky and chewed on it for a minute. Then he amazed Heyes by grabbing the reins of one of their horses and, still carrying the spade, guiding it through the narrow gap he had made. Up the two of them went over the uneven ground, ever so slowly on the uneven footing. Heyes watched as the horse disappeared to the other side.
Then Heyes was amazed even further as he heard the voice of another person!
That other person was Chase, of course. “It’s about time, Curry. You want me to die here or something?”
The Kid tied his horse to a tree, making sure it was not within touching distance of Chase. “I considered it.” Then he used the spade to strip some of the branches from the tree.
“Then you’re a fool. I die, and so do you and your partner.”
“Might be worth it.”
Chase grunted. “Maybe I’ll die here just to show you who’s in control.”
In a flash, Curry was by his side and grabbing him by his coat lapels. “You listen to me, Chase, and you listen good. My partner is in rough shape back there and you’re the reason. We’re all trapped here and you’re the reason for that, too. Now you’re going to get us all safely out of here, and you’re going to like it.”
“The hell I . . .” But Chase never finished his sentence. Kid Curry’s fist connected with his left eye and drew blood. Chase blinked to get the blood out of his eyes and threw his head back.
“See you later,” said the Kid. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Grabbing the saplings, Kid Curry made his way back to his partner. He found Heyes in the same awkward position and it was obvious he was fighting pain. But he was very happy to see his friend.
“Chase?”
“Yeah.”
“He injured?”
“I don’t know. He’s buried up to his waist in rubble. He can’t get out. At least not by himself.”
In spite of everything, Heyes smiled. “Are we planning on helping him?”
The Kid looked back at his new path. He was very sober. “Yeah. We’ll help him.”
Kid Curry was a man of ingenuity, something that often amazed his partner. Heyes watched as the Kid fashioned a sort of travois out of the branches he had cut. He placed two long ones on either side of Heyes and shorter ones in the front and back. He then used rope to tie them securely together, finishing the travois with the two rope ends sticking out of the front.
“Clever, Kid.”
“Now I have to lift you up a little to get these ropes under you. The bedrolls will hold you, Heyes, but I’ve got to secure them to the branches. It’s going to hurt.”
“I know, Kid. Go ahead.”
Curry started by lifting up Heyes’s legs, something Heyes could actually assist with. Curry criss-crossed the ropes underneath the bedrolls his partner was resting on, lifting him, legs, mid section, and upper torso, several times until he was satisfied that the travois would hold his partner. He pulled on it in several spots to make sure. The closeness to his partner made even more obvious the distress Heyes was experiencing, and the Kid wanted to hit Chase again. He then used the rope ends to secure the travois to the saddle horn of Heyes’s horse. Heyes was now ready to be transported. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it would have to do.
The two of them made eye contact. Curry sighed. “You ready?” he asked.
“Sure.”
And Curry led the horse with the travois to the rocky path, up and over to reach the other side. He heard Heyes’s groans and sometimes his cries of pain, but he also heard his partner telling him to keep on going, keep going. After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, he reached the area where Chase was. Fortunately, nothing had changed. The Kid’s horse was still tied to the tree, no bedroll anymore but the rifle secured in its scabbard. And Chase was his usual delightful self, still buried in the rubble and looking worse. “About time,” he said softly.
“So you’re thinking of digging a channel through the rest of this rubble and taking your
partner out on that thing?” he nodded towards the travois.
“Well, that way we won’t need you to tell us where this supposed other entrance is and
we can just go and leave you here,” growled Curry.
Chase gave a cynical chuckle. “It took you a couple of hours just to get to this point. “How long do you think it’s going to take you to dig all the way back out to the entrance?” He nodded towards Heyes. “He’ll be dead long before you even get that far, let alone back to civilization.”
“And you won’t be long after him,” Curry countered. “You think anyone is going to come by here any time soon to dig you out?”
Chase thought about that for a moment, a chill of fear running through him. He decided to try a different tack.
“O.K. Point taken.” He nodded. “Look, if you help me, I’ll show you the other way out of here. Honest.” He gave Curry a pleading look before adding, “What am I gonna do? I don’t have any weapons, I lost them in the rock slide, and you’re the fastest gun around. You have all the cards.”
Curry glanced at Heyes who lifted his eyebrows in an almost imperceptible shrug. After a moment’s contemplation, Curry crossed to his horse and retrieved his shovel, which he threw towards Chase.
“Start digging,” he told him. “Carefully. I’ll be watching,” he added, pointing his gun in Chase’s direction.
Chase opened his mouth as though to protest, but thought better of it as he looked down the barrel of Curry’s gun. Grabbing the shovel, he began to dig away at the rubble that held him prisoner.
Forty minutes later, Chase had cleared most of the rubble off him, and began to crawl out. “I think some of my ribs are busted,” he gasped.
“You’ll live,” Curry replied dispassionately.
Chase grunted and then attempted to get to his feet, only to drop back down with a yelp
of pain.
“My ankle. I think it’s broke.”
Curry rolled his eyes, believing this to be a trick.
“Honest. It hurts like hell,” Chase protested.
Curry shook his head before handing his gun to Heyes. “Cover him,” he said before turning towards Chase.
“Lie down, on your belly, and lace your hands on your head,” he told Chase. “And don’t move, unless you want my partner to shoot you.”
Chase did as he was bid and Curry moved over to him, knelt and pulled off his boot to examine his ankle.
“It ain’t broke. Probably just sprained, and bruised.”
“Hurts like the devil,” complained Chase.
“Maybe, but it won’t kill you.” Curry threw his boot towards him. “Put that on and tell us where this other way out is,” he said, moving to take his gun back from Heyes and aiming it towards Chase.
Chase eyed him before reaching out to pick up his boot and pulling it back on his foot with several groans of pain.
“Well?” Curry prompted.
Chase finished pulling on his boot and lifted his head to scan around the area. “You can’t see it if you don’t know where it is, but there’s a kind of fold in the rocks and behind it there’s a narrow trail that takes you between the rocks and brings you out half a mile further up the stream.”
Curry scanned around the area looking for where the spot might be.
“I told you. Unless you know where it is, you could spend a day or so looking for it,” said Chase.
Curry moved to get some rawhide from his saddle bags and approached Chase. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back,” he told him. Chase did so, and Curry tied his hands tightly.
“Lead the way,” he said, waving his gun back down the trail he’d cut. Turning to Heyes he said, “Sorry, partner. I didn’t expect to have to turn around and go back again.”
“Can’t be helped.” Heyes made a feeble attempt at a smile, even though he was feeling
pretty rough and wasn’t sure he would be up to the journey.
Chase set off, hobbling badly and groaning at every step. Curry turned the horse around and slowly followed, casting anxious glances back to make sure Heyes was still alive and still secured to the travois.
They headed off towards the furthest point of the semi-circular basin. Curry was skeptical about this supposed hidden trail, but Chase had been right in his comments about how long it would take him to dig a path out through the rock fall. If this trail existed, it would save precious time that might just save Heyes’s life.
Suddenly, Chase stopped walking and studied the formation of the rock. A few minutes later he moved off again, Curry and Heyes following.
“Here it is,” Chase announced several minutes later, stopping and turning to look at them.
“Where?” Curry looked at the rocks but could see nothing.
“Walk right up to the rock and then take a step to your left.”
“You first,” said Curry, not wanting to let Chase out of his sight.
Chase shrugged and walked up to the rock, took a step to the left and then disappeared.
Curry looked at Heyes, who was looking on in amazement. “What the…?” he exclaimed, following Chase’s footsteps.
As he took a step to the left, he could see that the rock face was obscuring the one behind it in such a fashion that from just a few feet away it appeared as one length of solid rock. But as he looked around he saw that there was indeed a narrow trail behind it that led between the cliffs, invisible to anyone who wasn’t standing right in front of it.
“Well, I’ll be…” he gasped.
“Told you, didn’t I?” smirked Chase.
Curry indicated for him to go back outside to where Heyes and the horses were waiting.
“It’s true,” Curry told Heyes. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own
eyes.”
Heyes gave a weak smile. “That’s great, Thaddeus.”
Curry came back to the present. “We need to get moving. The sooner we can get you to a doctor the better.”
As they made their way along the narrow trail, Curry surmised that the Indians probably had known about this path for hundreds of years. It was tight, barely allowing for the slow movement of the skittish horses and the travois, but all of them made it safely through. Emerging on the other side, Heyes and Curry wondered at the new simple beauty of trees, minimal boulders and much in the way of grassy even ground. They gave each other a look and Heyes shook his head “thanks.”
Kid Curry tied the horses’ reins to a tree. As his back was turned, Chase made a break for it, running as best he could for the closest cover he could find. The Kid quickly drew his gun, but before he could fire, Chase fell to the ground. Heyes and Curry looked at each other in wonder; there had been no bullet fired.
“Sonofa . . .” Chase yelled loudly. He grabbed his left leg in pain.
Curry crouched down near him, ready to back off quickly in case it was a trick. But it was no trick; Chase’s trousers were torn and a big gash was pouring blood.
“Probably just started bleeding,” the Kid said. “Most likely a boulder cut but then pressed up against it, staunching the blood.”
Chase groaned in pain. “Well, damn it, do something!”
“You think you deserve help, do you?” But Curry didn’t wait for an answer. He removed Chase’s neckerchief and tied it tightly around the leg above the wound. He watched the wound closely, waiting for the blood to slow, then retrieved their bottle of whiskey and poured it over the wound and the neckerchief. Chase howled in pain.
“Don’t be such a baby,” said the Kid. “That wound’s not as bad as you’re making out. We’ll wait here a minute. But that’s all; we’ve got to get moving again.” He looked back at Heyes, who seemed to be getting paler. But Heyes smiled and nodded.
The Kid walked over to his partner. “You haven’t said much, Heyes,” he said gently.
“Hurts . . . to talk.”
The truth of that statement stung Kid Curry. His partner was concentrating on minimizing his pain, making his trek easier, staying alive. The Kid put a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder and after a minute, stood and said, “All right, let’s go.”
He helped Chase to his feet, but Chase took a step and immediately fell to the ground. “I can’t walk, damn you!” he said.
“Don’t damn me, damn yourself. You’re the one who fired the shot.” The Kid enjoyed his little play on words, but the seriousness of their situation began to occur to him. He had a few choices, but none of them was good. He could get on his horse and lead Heyes’s horse with the travois, leaving Chase behind. But that was something Jed Curry the humanitarian could not do. He could make a second travois for Chase, but that’s something that would take a long time and he wanted to get to a town with a doctor as soon as possible. He could construct a makeshift crutch for Chase, but that would slow them down quite a bit.
In the end, the Kid chose the most logical, quickest solution. He would ride Heyes’s horse and lead the travois, and he would have Chase ride the other remaining horse and lead them to a town.
But of course Chase could kick the horse’s ribs with his good leg and skedaddle quickly away from them, leaving the Kid behind and unable to follow due to the travois. Curry almost considered doing this so he could shoot the man who had caused them all this trouble, but, once again, he was a decent human being and couldn’t bring himself to shoot someone in the back.
The only other option he could think of was, in his opinion, a brilliant idea. He tied his horse’s reins to a tree and brought Chase to the side of the horse as if to mount.
“This is stupid,” said Chase. “Can’t use my left leg.”
“Put your right foot in the stirrup.”
“You nuts or something?”
Curry twisted the stirrup and repeated his command. When Chase balked again, he pulled his gun. Chase did as told but faltered because of his injured left leg. He made a grab for the saddle horn to steady himself.
“Nope,” said the Kid, “grab on to the back of the saddle.”
Chase was too unsteady and in too much pain to argue, so he grabbed the saddle back. Kid Curry then grabbed his left leg and swung it up over the horse. Chase was now sitting backward on the horse. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“Not yet,” said the Kid. “Put your hands behind you.”
With Chase steadily swearing at him, the Kid tied Chase’s hands together and then secured them to the saddle horn. He pulled on the rope to make sure there was no means of escape.
“There,” said the Kid. He looked with amusement at Chase, sitting backward on the horse with his hands behind him and tied to the saddle horn. “You might be a would-be murderer, but I sure wouldn’t want you to run off with my horse, too. That would make you a horse thief, and they hang horse thieves.” He chuckled at his joke and was gratified to hear Heyes chuckle also. “OK, now we’re ready to go.”
“This is stupid,” Chase complained. “What do I do if this nag runs off?”
“Yell ‘whoa,’” said Kid Curry.
Despite the pain he was in, Heyes snorted at Curry’s comment. Curry caught his eye and grinned before moving to put a lead rope on the horse and then mounting Heyes’s horse so he could steady the travois while leading his own horse with Chase on board.
They set off in a southwesterly direction towards Taos. Because of the uneven trail, they couldn’t travel with much speed. Curry had to watch the path carefully to avoid the travois hitting rocks or getting caught up on something.
Chase grumbled all the way, about his injuries and of facing the wrong way on the horse, but Curry ignored him.
An hour or so before dark Curry stopped at a suitable place to camp. Dismounting, he unfastened the travois from the horse and moved it, and his own horse, over to a grassy area where he secured them to a tree before releasing Chase from the saddle. He steadied Chase as he slid off the saddle before crumpling to the ground complaining about his ankle and the gash in his leg.
“You’ll live,” said Curry, taking out his gun and aiming it at him. “Over there.” He nodded to where he’d left Heyes on the travois.
Chase, his hands still tied behind him, struggled to his feet and hobbled over to where Curry indicated, sinking down onto the ground near a large boulder.
Going down on one knee, Curry pulled Chase’s boots off and tossed them several yards away.
“Just a precaution,” he told him, before getting up and crossing to kneel by Heyes.
“Heyes?” He touched his shoulder.
Heyes opened his eyes and looked up at him.
“How’re you doing?” Curry asked, noting the sheen on his skin and the glassy look to his eyes. It looked as though he was starting with a fever, caused by infection from the bullet wound.
“I’ve been better,” Heyes muttered. “How long before we get to town, do you think?”
“Sometime tomorrow.”
Heyes raised his eyebrows in a shrug but didn’t reply.
“You rest. I’ll get a fire started. Think you can eat anything?”
Heyes shook his head. “Coffee might be good though. I’m pretty dry.”
“Coming up.” Curry smiled and patted his shoulder before rising and collecting wood to make a fire. He then put on a pot of coffee.
Chase watched him slyly.
Coffee made, Curry poured a cup and crossed to kneel by Heyes.
“Here, try some coffee,” he said, gently lifting Heyes’s head in order for him to drink from the cup.
Heyes took a few sips before turning his head away. “Thanks.”
“Sure you can’t eat something? We still have some ham left.”
Heyes shook his head, and then reached up to grab Curry’s forearm.
“Kid, look….” He pointed with his other hand.
Curry turned to look.
“What the…?” He jumped to his feet looking around him for Chase, who was nowhere to be seen.
Curry scanned the area, and spotted some bushes swaying several yards away. There was no wind to blow them so this was obviously the direction Chase had taken.
Drawing his gun, the Kid ran after Chase.
Without his boots and with his hands tied and his injured leg and ankle slowing him down, Chase hadn’t managed to travel very far, and Curry caught up with him a few minutes later.
“Hold it right there.”
Chase stopped, and slowly turned to face him.
Curry waved his gun in the direction of their camp.
“Try that again and next time I will kill you,” Curry growled, prodding him in the back with the barrel of his gun.
“And add murder to your crimes?” sneered Chase. “Your only saving grace from the gallows is the fact you ain’t killed anyone.”
“Anyone they know about,” Curry said, in his most sinister voice. “And if I killed you out here, who’s gonna know about it?”
Chase gave him a wary look. Was it possible Curry had killed people that the authorities were unaware of? He had dismissed Curry as a threat because of his reputation for not killing. Perhaps he had misjudged him. He decided he needed to be more careful if he wanted to stay alive long enough to reach town.
Once back in the camp, Curry instructed Chase to lie down, whereupon he tied his feet to prevent him from running away again, and gagged him too. He had a momentary pang of guilt for not giving him any food or anything to drink, but that soon passed when he remembered the situation they were now in because of Chase.
Heyes had fallen into a restless sleep, so Curry ate his meal and then settled down for the night.
He woke at sunup, relieved to see Chase still where he’d left him, and Heyes still breathing, although he was feverish and not very communicative.
Curry poured a cup of water and then crossed to Chase, waking him with a kick to his thigh. Bending, he removed the gag and held the cup to his lips for him to drink.
“Thought you were gonna let me die of thirst,” sneered Chase, after he’d drunk his fill.
“Don’t tempt me.” Curry glared at him before standing up and walking away.
After breaking camp, saddling the horses and hooking up the travois, he untied Chase’s
feet and then secured him to his horse in the same manner as he had the previous day.
“What’re you going to do when we reach town?” Chase asked as they set off. “Two wanted criminals bringing in a bounty hunter? And an injured one at that. That’ll take some explaining.”
“Who said I was going to take you in?” growled Curry.
Chase just stared at him. After bringing him along on this trip surely he wouldn’t kill him before they reached town? He could have left him trapped in the avalanche if he’d had any desire to kill him. So if he wasn’t going to kill him, or take him into town, what else might he have in mind? All kinds of scenarios began to play around in Chase’s head, none of which were very appealing to him.
They were starting to go down a fairly steep downgrade now and the horses were slipping and sliding on the loose, rocky ground, sidestepping to avoid random boulders and sudden cracks in the dry earth. There was a sudden drop of a couple of feet and while the horses managed to negotiate it, the travois did not, and flipped over.
Curry pulled the horses to a stop as Heyes gave a sudden yelp of pain, having been drawn from a semi-conscious state by the sudden violent movement.
Jumping off the horse, Curry ran swiftly over and with some effort righted the travois There was a cut on Heyes’ forehead where he’d struck a rock as the travois turned over, from which a trickle of blood now ran.
“Heyes! You O.K?”
“Wh-what… the hell… happened…? Heyes gasped.
“I’m sorry, Heyes, there was an unexpected drop and the travois tipped over.”
Heyes screwed up his face as pain flowed through him.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Curry asked anxiously, as he took off his bandana and dabbed at the wound on Heyes’ forehead.
“I…I don’t think so… But… I don’t feel so good, Kid… I don’t think I’m gonna make it…”
“Don’t you say that,” growled Curry. “We’ll be in town before long and the doc will get you fixed up. You just have to lie still and keep breathing, You ain’t gonna die on me, do you hear me?”
“Yeah… I hear you…” A faint smile touched the corners of Heyes’s mouth, even though his eyes were closed.
Curry patted his shoulder.
“He’s right,” said Chase. “He ain’t gonna make it to town.”
“He’ll make it,” Curry growled without looking at him. He had to make it. The alternative was unthinkable.
Travel was clearly out of the question for the remainder of the day, so Kid Curry unhitched the travois and hobbled the horse nearby so it could graze. It had done a commendable job carrying its cargo and keeping its footing at the sudden drop in grade. The Kid spread a blanket on the soft grass and gently removed his partner from the travois and placed him on the blanket. Kid Curry knew he wasn’t a doctor but he checked Heyes’s wounds all the same and did what he could to clean them and make his friend comfortable. Heyes was still drifting in and out of consciousness but the change in his comfort level seemed to help. He smiled as best he could.
The Kid started a fire and put on two pots of water. Then he helped Chase off his horse, allowing him to crash to the ground the final few inches.
Chase had been yelling at him ever since they had stopped, and the Kid was tired of hearing it. He held the gag in front of Chase’s face and said, “See this? I’m going to tie your flapping gums with this. You got nothing to say I want to hear. I’m done with you. And if you try talking through this, or if you try running away, or if you try even breathing in a way I don’t like, I’m going to take this rag and stuff if down your throat. Then we’ll all be at peace.”
Chase’s eyes were wider than usual as he watched Curry adorn his face with the filthy rag. He decided, at least for the time being anyhow, behaving was the best policy.
Curry tied him to a shade tree, this time with his hands in front of him. Curry even brought him water to provide for more comfort. As the gag was removed from his mouth, Chase made sure not to say anything but thanks. Curry left the rag hanging loosely down. Why did he not replace the gag? Was he forgetful? Was he being magnanimous? Or was he waiting for Chase to yell so he could stuff it down his throat? Again, several scenarios occurred to the would-be murderer, and he kept his mouth shut.
Curry then took Chase’s horse and hobbled it near the other one. He brought the saddles over to the campsite. The animals had done a fine job and deserved a break. The Kid just hoped that they would be well-rested in the morning for what he hoped would be the final leg of their journey.
When the water boiled, the Kid made coffee with one pot and put rice in the other. Then he laid some pieces of cured bacon over some twigs and held them over the fire. The fat dripping made quite an appealing aroma. His stomach growled and he realized he hadn’t eaten much lately. Retrieving the tin plate from one saddlebag, he placed some warm bacon and rice on it and poured some coffee into his tin mug. Hannibal Heyes watched in wonder as the Kid took the food to their captive and watched as he ate ravenously. When he was done, Curry once again secured Chase’s hands and made sure he was tied securely to the tree for the night.
Then the Kid brought a plate of food over to his partner.
“I can’t eat that, Kid,” Heyes protested.
“Yeah, you can. Like this.” The Kid undid one of the bedrolls from the travois, rolled it into a ball and stuffed it behind Heyes’s head. Heyes was raised just enough so it would be comfortable to eat, but the Kid was well aware that that’s not what Heyes had been referring to. He sat next to his patient on the ground. The Kid took a spoonful of food, a small one, and placed it in his friend’s mouth. “The rest is up to you,” he said with a smile.
Heyes smiled back at him as he slowly chewed the food. He felt terrible and he had pain and he wasn’t at all sure he was going to live much longer, but that food . . . well, it sure tasted good. It wasn’t easy to eat, but it did go down. And then the second bite also went down, and the third and fourth. But after that, Heyes was panting and asked his partner to stop. Curry waited a minute and then offered his friend water instead of coffee. Something cool and easy to swallow.
Heyes looked up at him gratefully. “That’s why you gave him food first, isn’t it? So I’d eat?”
The Kid smiled. “Yep. Worked, didn’t it?”
Heyes smiled gratefully. He was exhausted. The Kid checked him over, realized sadly there was nothing more he could do for the wounds, and made Heyes as comfortable as possible for the night. He then finished the plate himself.
It was still early, so after checking to make sure Chase was truly secured, the Kid walked a few dozen yards away from the camp and set up a makeshift rabbit snare. He went back to the camp and fell asleep because everyone else was. In a few hours, he woke and checked his trap. He had snared a rabbit! Real meat for breakfast!
The next morning dawned dull and overcast. Curry rose and went to check on Heyes, kneeling down at his side. He was still breathing, although shallowly, and it was obvious he was in the grip of a fever. Curry was thankful that today would see them arrive in Taos where, hopefully, the doctor there could save his life.
Getting to his feet, he prepared the rabbit he had caught the previous night and put it on to cook. Then he took a canteen of water over to where Chase was still sleeping and gave him a kick in the ribs to wake him.
Chase, still mindful of Curry’s words about killing him, took the canteen he was offered and drank the water without comment.
Once the rabbit was cooked, Curry divided it into three portions, one for Chase, the second one for himself and a third which he could keep for later in case Heyes woke and was able to eat it. He had to admit it wasn’t very likely, but he carefully wrapped up the meat and prepared to break camp.
Heyes made not one sound as Curry manoeuvred him onto the travois, giving cause for concern. Travelling fast with the travois wasn’t easy, but they would have to go as fast as possible or risk Heyes dying before they reached town.
After making sure Heyes was secured and comfortable, Curry untied Chase from the tree and once again had him sit backward on the horse with his hands tied to the saddle horn. Chase made no complaint.
They set off, Curry leading both horses. The land was much flatter now, allowing him to travel a little faster. He kept glancing over his shoulder at Heyes, to be sure he was still secure and still breathing. He was becoming seriously worried for his partner’s survival, knowing only too well that infection from his wound would likely kill him without prompt medical intervention. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.
They arrived on the outskirts of Taos mid-afternoon. Bringing the horses to a stop, Curry dismounted and released Chase’s hands from the saddle horn and motioned for him to dismount, all the while keeping a gun trained on him.
Chase slid off the horse and crumpled to the ground. Curry dragged his enemy to a tree, sitting him on the ground and securing him to the tree with rope. As an afterthought, Curry then tied Chase’s neck to the tree as well.
Then, taking a canteen from his horse, he held it to Chase’s mouth.
“You’d better drink, because you won’t be getting any more until I come back for you,” he told him.
Chase looked panic-stricken. “But… you can’t leave me out here like this…” he protested. “What if… what if a bear or something comes around…”
“You’ll be all right. There ain’t no bears around this neck of the woods that I know of. But if one does show up, if you just sit nice and quiet you won’t draw any attention to yourself and it might go away.”
“But what if you don’t make it back? Someone might recognize you in town and arrest you…”
“You’d better hope no one does then.”
“If they do… will you tell them where I am, so they can come get me?”
“Why would I do that?” Curry gave him a withering look. “You planned to kill me and my partner and claim the bounty on us. Why should I tip the law off as to your whereabouts?”
“Then why bring me along? Why didn’t you just leave me buried in that avalanche?”
“Because, if my friend should die, I’ll be coming for you personally,” growled Curry. “And if that should be the case, you’ll be wishing I had left you buried in that avalanche because it would have been a far more gentle death than the one I’ll give you. Now, drink!”
Chase obediently drank from the canteen, turning his head away when he’d had his fill.
“If you hope to live, you’d better pray my friend survives.” Curry’s piercing blue gaze bore menacingly into Chase’s fearful one.
With that, Curry got to his feet, replaced the cap on the canteen and walked away, leaving Chase staring after him in trepidation.
Curry mounted Heyes’s horse and, taking the reins of his own, set off towards the town leaving Chase hidden from view amongst the thicket of trees.
It took him forty minutes to reach the town where he hurried to the doctor’s office.
Dismounting, he hurried inside where the doctor was seated at his desk.
“What can I do for you?” the doctor smiled.
“My friend, he’s been shot.”
“I see. And where is he?”
“He’s outside on a travois I fixed up for him. We were a couple of days out of town and he wasn’t able to ride.”
The doctor jumped to his feet. “Let’s bring him inside.”
Curry led the way and between them they released Heyes from the travois and carried him inside to a room behind the surgery that contained a bed. The doctor examined him, a frown creasing his brow.
“A couple of days ago, you say?” he asked presently.
“Yes. I cleaned the wound as best I could, but it looks like he has an infection.”
“He does indeed.” The doctor nodded. “And how did he sustain this wound?”
“We were prospecting, up in the hills. I think someone must have thought we were trying to jump their claim.” Curry frantically tried to come up with a plausible explanation.
“I see,” muttered the doctor, obviously more interested in his patient’s condition than the reason for it. “Well, I’ll clean the wound again, and I have a few things I can try to help with the fever, but other than that, it’s mostly up to him. Not a lot more I can do other than keep him comfortable and hydrated.”
“Anything you can do, doc, is much appreciated.”
“I’m Doctor Mortensen. What is your friend’s name?”
“Joshua Smith. And I’m Thaddeus Jones.”
“Well, Mr. Jones, I’ll do my best for him, but I can’t guarantee anything.”
“I understand. I need to go and stable the horses and book a room at the hotel. Is it O.K. if I come back and sit with him later?”
“Yes, you may come back in a couple of hours, when I’ve finished my examinations and started treatment.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
With a last, anxious look at Heyes, Curry left the doctor’s office and headed to the hotel to book himself a room. Then he checked Heyes’s horse into the livery before riding down to the restaurant where he picked up some takeaway food. He then rode out to where he’d left Chase, who looked both relieved and afraid as Curry pulled up in front of him.
“He’s still alive – for now,” Curry said by way of explanation.
Chase gave a sigh of relief.
Moving behind him, Curry cut the rope binding Chase’s wrists. Then, taking another length, he tied it around his right arm, just above the elbow; he then took the rope around the tree trunk and secured it in the same place on his left arm. This allowed Chase to move his forearms to be able to eat or drink but not to be able to raise his arms to reach anything else. Curry then gave him the food he had brought, and also a canteen of water.
“You’re going to leave me here all night?” Chase looked horrified.
“I’m going to leave you here until my friend either recovers, or dies. No idea how long that will be. It could be a day, or it could be a week, or even longer. Depending what happens to him will determine what happens to you.”
“But…” Chase began.
“Don’t worry, I’ll bring you food – as long as I don’t get recognized and arrested, of course.” Curry gave him a grim smile.
“This rope around my neck… it’s a little tight, it’s hard to swallow. Can you loosen it a bit?” Chase asked hopefully.
“You’re breathing O.K., ain’t ya? If you can breathe, you can swallow.” Curry was unsympathetic.
Chase just stared at him as Curry got to his feet and remounted his horse.
“I’ll be back in the morning. You’d better hope my friend is still alive by then,” he told him before turning and riding away.
Kid Curry spent the rest of that day well into the evening at his friend’s bedside, only leaving when the doctor pointed out that he had rented a hotel room and why not use it? “I’ll send for you if there’s a change,” he promised.
The Kid had to admit he was grateful to have the time alone. The bed felt soft and smooth after spending so many nights on the hard earth, but this solitary time proved to be more adverse than he’d anticipated. Lying on the feather mattress, he was unable to relax enough to sleep. Thoughts of his partner kept entering his head. What if Heyes died? Then what? They’d spent almost their whole lives together. The Kid knew he would have no trouble surviving without Heyes, but survival wasn’t really the point. There had to be more to life than just surviving. He and Heyes had always managed to find fun times amidst the chaos of bank- and train-robbing. Going straight was enjoyable too, for the most part. But that was because he had someone with him who understood him, who had endured the same bad things and took pleasure in the same good things he had. And now his partner was lying in the bed in a doctor’s house... dying...
And Chase was responsible for that. Chase alone. Chase was well-named because he had indeed pursued them for the last few days. Relentlessly he had dogged them, run them to ground, as it were. When the tables turned, Chase then had become the Kid’s responsibility. Curry didn’t want this responsibility. He wanted to be rid of Chase, one way or another.
He also didn’t want to think about Chase, but when he pushed this enemy to the back of his mind, Heyes came to the forefront. The Kid didn’t want to think about Heyes either, not now, because . . . because, he had to admit, he wanted to sleep.
But sleep wasn’t forthcoming. The Kid lay in the comfortable bed for a while longer, finally coming to the conclusion that perhaps some female companionship next to him might help him to forget his troubles. But when he looked at the stars out his window, he knew that the time had to be well past the time that the saloons would be open. No female companionship this night.
Chase came to mind again. Kid Curry considered that he would have to kill the man if Heyes died. It was a promise he had made, to Chase and to himself. And Heyes might die. It was touch and go, the doctor said.
But did Curry really want to kill Chase? The whole idea was as distasteful as the man himself. Did he really want to stoop to the kind of tactics that the bounty hunter was willing to use on him and his friend?
Unwillingly, Kid Curry mulled this question over in his mind for a while. After due consideration, he thought perhaps he did not want to kill Chase if Heyes died. He wasn’t sure what he might do instead, but at least this idea brought him enough peace to allow him to fall asleep.
Kid Curry slept until well past sunup. When he did rise, he was surprised to find that somehow he had made a decision about Chase as he was sleeping. It was a good decision and he was pleased with himself.
First, though, he needed to see how Heyes was.
When he arrived at the doctor’s office, however, his mood soured when he saw the look of grave concern on the physician’s face.
“What is it?” Curry asked anxiously, afraid that maybe he was too late, that Heyes was gone. “He’s not…?”
“No, but it’s not looking good.” The doctor shook his head. “The amount of blood he’s lost, the infection…” he gave a small shrug, “If you had got him here sooner, perhaps I could have given you a more optimistic outlook, but the odds are weighed heavily against him surviving.”
Curry shook his head, unwilling to believe that Heyes was going to die.
“He can’t. I won’t let him,” he said now, his voice anguished.
“As much as I admire your dedication, there’s not much that you, or I, can do to prevent it. What will be, will be.”
Curry shook his head. “No.” He pushed past the doctor and into the room where Heyes lay, unconscious and barely breathing.
He pulled a chair up to the side of the bed, sat down and took one of Heyes’s hands in his two, staring anxiously down at his friend.
The doctor, who had followed him into the room, quietly withdrew to give Mr. Jones time alone with his friend before it was too late.
Curry leaned down closer to Heyes and said firmly. “Heyes, you ain’t gonna die, do you hear me? You can beat this. You have to beat this.”
There was no response from Heyes.
Curry squeezed his hand tightly. “Come on, Heyes. I need you. We need each other. I won’t last five minutes without you here to keep me out of trouble.”
He watched his comatose partner, wishing he could just see those laughing brown eyes open once more. Eyes that took in everything and had a way of brightening even the darkest of moments with their mischievous twinkle. Truly windows of the soul. And what a soul.
Curry found himself reminiscing about their years together, from childhood friends, to orphans, to outlaws, and now, attempted reformed citizens.
The last thought reminded him that he hadn’t gone to give Chase any breakfast. A truly reformed citizen wouldn’t have left him without food. In fact, a truly reformed citizen wouldn’t have tied him up there in the first place. For a moment he felt guilty, but then that guilt was overridden by the knowledge that this whole situation they were now in was solely down to Chase. Once again, he was consumed by what he would do to Chase if Heyes died. But he couldn’t allow himself to think of that. He couldn’t allow the thought that he would die into his head, because that was almost like tempting fate.
He pushed Chase from his mind for now. He wouldn’t starve in just one day, and where he had left him it was unlikely anyone should come upon him by accident to rob or kill him. He could get attacked by a bear he supposed, but at this moment in time Curry didn’t really care. His only thought was Heyes.
He didn’t move from the chair all day, just remained sitting, holding Heyes’ hand tightly and, when the doctor wasn’t in the room, spoke words of encouragement to him.
The doctor came in and out, checking his patient’s condition, admiring Mr. Jones’s faith in his friend, even if it was fruitless.
As the sun began to sink towards the horizon, Heyes’s breathing grew even slower.
Panicked, Curry squeezed his hand even tighter and leaned right down to his ear, having heard somewhere that hearing was the last thing to fade before death.
“Heyes, don’t you dare die on me!” he said firmly. “Do you hear me?” You need to live, so we can get the amnesty, together. Without you I won’t even bother trying for it. Either we both get it or neither of us do.” He squeezed his hand as hard as he could, hoping Heyes would feel it somehow, and in doing so feel Curry’s pain at the thought of losing his best friend.
“Do you want to be responsible for me remaining an outlaw until someone guns me down? Because that’s what you’ll be doing. Come on, Heyes, you can get through this. Don’t die!” He broke off as his voice cracked, bowing his head to rest his forehead on his hands. Heyes’s hand felt cold within his warm ones.
He closed his eyes, expecting the worst, but then, suddenly, he felt Heyes’s fingers move fractionally within his grip. He had heard him!
Curry lifted his head to look at him. “Heyes?”
Heyes’s fingers flexed again, a little stronger this time, although his eyes remained closed.
“Doc?” Curry called.
The doctor entered the room.
“He just squeezed my hand,” Curry told him.
The doctor took out his stethoscope and listened to Heyes’s chest, and then took his temperature.
“His temperature has come down a little, and his pulse rate is stronger,” he said, looking bemused. He had expected a worsening of the condition.
“He’s gonna live.” Curry grinned at him.
The doctor wasn’t so sure, but all he said was. “Time will tell.”
But Curry knew in his heart that Heyes was giving him a sign. He wasn’t done yet.
He sat with Heyes into the evening, eventually falling asleep in the chair, still holding Heyes’s hand.
He was awakened from his slumber by a voice whispering “Kid?”
He roused, confused momentarily as to where he was, but then his senses cleared and he looked at Heyes to see two brown eyes looking tiredly at him.
Curry sat upright, grinning. “You’re awake!”
“Where are we?” Heyes whispered, his eyes wandering around the room in confusion. The last thing he remembered, he was still on the travois out on the trail.
“Doctor’s office, Taos,” Curry told him. “You’ve been out of it with a fever.” He didn’t tell him how close he’d come to dying, that could wait for later.
“Chase?” Heyes muttered now.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got him somewhere safe,” smiled Curry.
He turned to a cupboard at the side of the bed and poured some water into a glass.
“Here, you must be thirsty. Have a little of this and then get some rest, build your strength up.”
He lifted Heyes’s head for him to sip the water out of the glass.
“Thanks,” muttered Heyes when he’d had his fill.
Curry put the glass down and then rearranged Heyes’s bedcovers.
“Rest,” he told him.
Heyes nodded. He closed his eyes and moments later was asleep, at which point Curry got up and went to find the doctor to tell him the news.
“See, I told you he wouldn’t die.”
“So you did, Mr. Jones, although I confess I wasn’t optimistic.”
Curry grinned.
“And now you should get to your hotel room and get some sleep yourself. I’ll keep an eye on Mr. Smith for the rest of the night.”
Curry looked uncertain, but then nodded. He was tired, and hungry too after sitting at Heyes’s bedside all day.
“All right,” he said now. “But you’ll send for me, you know, if he should take a back step?”
“I will, but I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Curry nodded. “Yes. I’m sure he will.”
With that, he left the doctor’s office and headed to the saloon, which was the only place open at this late hour here he might get something to eat. Then, after a couple of large whiskeys he headed back to the hotel where he fell sound asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, now that he knew Heyes would survive.
Finally, a good night’s sleep, Curry thought. But it wasn’t.
Chase was the reason. Chase was still tied to a tree outside town, unable to defend himself against any possible attacks from anything, unable to do anything. He was powerless.
He’d been powerless the whole time since he had fired the bullet that had caused this whole mess. Yes, Curry thought, he deserved it. Curry and Heyes had been in control over their enemy this whole time. Yes, he deserved that.
Yes, he deserved it, he deserved it, he deserved it. Kid Curry was barely able to sleep a wink that night as thoughts of Chase kept entering his rest. Tied to a tree. Powerless. The Kid remembered times in his own life when he’d been powerless and he didn’t like them one little bit.
So when dawn came, he was the first one at the town restaurant, ordering two breakfasts, one to eat right away and one to take with him in a bag. He downed his food quickly, paid the bill, and rushed over to the doctor’s building. Rather than go inside, he saw Heyes through the window. His partner was awake and looked much better than he’d last seen him. He caught Heyes’s gaze and held up the food bag, pointing to it. Heyes knew instantly that the food was intended for Chase and he nodded approval. This was only the most recent of so many times that Kid Curry was grateful for such a kindhearted person for a partner as Hannibal Heyes.
The Kid retrieved his horse and bargained with the stable man for a second horse, a cheap one, from the stable and rode as quickly as he could to the place where he had left Chase. All alone, tied to a tree.
At first, he was lost, not sure where the tree was. But Chase himself helped him locate it. The Kid heard yelling. It was Chase’s voice, but he wasn’t yelling directions to help the Kid find him. He was yelling in pain. And fear.
Anxiously, Kid Curry spurred his horse in the direction of the voice. He found Chase still tied to the tree, but he was kicking and moving as best he could inside his bindings. And he was yelling, because a handful of coyotes was attacking him.
The man’s legs were bleeding from several places and it looked like the pack had been attacking him for quite some while already. When the lead animal saw the Kid ride up and shoot the ground near him, he ran rapidly away. The rest of the pack followed.
The Kid expected verbal recriminations but there were none. Chase was quiet, obviously grateful for his timely appearance. Curry untied him from the tree and the man slumped to the ground, conscious but weak. The Kid sat him up against the tree trunk and threw away his bindings. The grateful look Chase gave him for that simple act melted his heart. “Here,” said the Kid, handing him the bag of food, “eat this.”
Kid Curry watched his adversary eat greedily from the simple breakfast he had been brought, and then drink from the canteen. After a few swigs, Chase handed the canteen back to him. “Here,” Chase said. “I don’t want to drink all your water.”
This charitable act startled the Kid. “No,” he said, pushing back the canteen. “You keep it. It’s for you.”
Kid Curry watched Chase the bounty hunter drink again from the canteen, and then slump against the tree, panting. For a couple of minutes, they stared at each other, saying nothing. Then Chase simply said, “Did he die?”
The Kid did not change expression. “That isn’t your business. The only thing you need to know is that I’m here now with food for you.”
Chase studied the Kid. “You’d be good at poker, Curry. Heyes was in bad shape. I’m inclined to think he died. But then, here you are, feeding me. So what are you saying?”
“I’m going to offer you a deal, Chase,” said the Kid. “You decide which you like the best. One option – got to admit this is my favorite – is that I tie you back to the tree and ride on to the next state. Don’t come back. Option two – I give you this canteen and this horse and saddle and you pay me for them and then you ride out of here, away from town. Go west and keep riding until you run into ocean.”
Chase had heard that Kid Curry was a man of honor, and now he was sensing why. “All right now, what’s the catch?”
“The catch is that you’ll be alive. Because I let you be alive. And you’ll let me be alive. We’ll go our separate ways. In the future, whenever you hear my name, you pretend you don’t know who I am.”
Chase smiled. “A favor for a favor, is that it?”
“That’s it exactly. You put us through hell and now I put you through hell, and we’ll call it even. As long as you keep your part of the deal. I don’t want to be hounded by you. In fact, I don’t even want to think about you again. If you honor this deal, so will I.”
Chase had already made up his mind but he pretended to think about it.
“And don’t forget,” the Kid added, “that I’ll be riding faster when I’m alone. And don’t forget how fast my arm is. Don’t ever forget that.” And to demonstrate, Kid Curry drew on a snake that was a couple dozen yards off to the right, fired, and killed it. The draw, the turning of his body, and the accurate shot all took less than a second.
“We have a deal?” asked the Kid.
“We have a deal,” said Chase. “You’re on your own, cowboy.”
The Kid mounted his horse. “There’s first-aid supplies in the bag on your horse. And some jerky, too. I figure you can reach another town in a day or two. You go that way and I’m going this way.”
The Kid spurred his horse and headed back to town. Chase took another drink and watched in admiration. His first thought was how easy it would be to entrap the Kid since he was obviously alone now. But then Chase thought about the logic of the things Curry had said. He scraped the last of the food out of the food bag.
No, Kid Curry deserved to be left alone. So be it.
* * *
By the time the Kid got back to town, it was midday. He went immediately to the doctor’s place and to Heyes’s bedside. Heyes was actually sitting up in bed with a tray of food on his lap. There was color in his face and the twinkle in his eyes was back. Kid Curry actually laughed when he saw him.
“What’s so funny, Thaddeus?” Heyes asked with his mouth full.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe . . . I really don’t know.”
The doctor walked into the room. “Maybe it’s because he hasn’t had much reason to laugh recently,” he said. He was smiling, too. They all were.
The doctor told the Kid to sit down and placed a tray of food on his lap as well. “You’ve got to eat, too, you know,” he said. “Same stuff as your friend.” The doctor sat down in the other chair. “You know, I’ve got to admit I’ve never seen anyone rebound as fast as your friend here. Not that long ago, I would’ve taken him for a goner. And now look at him – chowing down and asking for more. I’m inclined to say he can go home in just a day or two.”
“That’s good news, Joshua,” said the Kid.
“Yup,” came from the bed.
“How far away is your home?” the doctor asked.
“Well, Doc,” said the Kid, “we’re just travelers. No real home. Just destinations, I guess.”
“Well, if Joshua is going to be riding, I might want him to stay an extra day or two. But, by and all, he’s strong. And I did a good job of doctoring him!” The doctor stood. “I’ll leave the two of you to eat your meals in peace. Oh – and, by the way, - you’ll find my bill under that plate!” And he left, laughing.
The Kid waited until he was gone, and then asked, “You feel OK?”
“Never better, Kid. Well, maybe not never. We going to be having a friend tag along?”
“Nope. Ran into him just outside town. Coyotes were eyeing him up for breakfast. I changed their minds. I also changed his mind about joining us . . .”
“Maybe now. But you know he’ll be back . . .”
“Ever. He won’t ever join us.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Oh, I just reminded him of what I can do with a gun. I think maybe he forgot. And one other little thing – somehow he got the idea that you had died and he would only have this one chance to get away from me so he’d better take it before I changed my mind. I can be merciless.”
Hannibal Heyes looked at his friend with admiration. “How did he get the idea I had died?”
“I can lie, too.” grinned Kid Curry.
END
