Retribution
- 10 -
That evening, Lom and Heyes went to the saloon for a drink. Felton wasn’t mentioned, and Heyes seemed in good spirits, although he was a little offhand with Lom, presumably still upset that he had doubted him.
The following morning, they checked out of the hotel and went to pick up Curry from the doctor’s office. Lom, Heyes and the doctor carried him out to the wagon, where a bed had been made up for him.
"O.K?" Heyes asked, as they settled him in.
"Fine." Curry tried to study Heyes’ face without him noticing. He couldn’t read anything specific in his expression, but he too, like Lom, had the feeling that his appearance of normality was just a façade.
It took them almost four days to get back to Porterville, where Curry occupied the bed that Heyes had been in the last time they’d been here.
"About turn, huh?" He grinned at Heyes as they settled him into bed.
Heyes gave him a sharp glance and didn’t reply. Curry looked at Lom who raised an eyebrow.
It was four more days before Curry was up on his feet, although he was still weak and would need several weeks recuperation before he would be fit enough to travel. Heyes had been strangely aloof and distant, spending as little time in their company as he could possibly get away with, disappearing on walks whenever the opportunity arose, or shutting himself away in the bedroom. Lom wondered if it was because he was still upset with him for doubting him over Felton’s murder.
A couple of days later, Lom, who had been going to work part time in order to help out with looking after Curry, went back full time, leaving Heyes to take care of him. His mood had improved marginally over the last day or so, although he still seemed preoccupied.
After a late breakfast, Curry persuaded Heyes to join him out on the porch for a game of cards.
They played a game, which Heyes, unsurprisingly, won, and Curry dealt a second, eyeing Heyes, as he tossed the cards onto the table, wondering whether or not to bring up the subject of Felton’s murder. He had been waiting for an opportunity to question him about it since they’d left Denver. He picked up his cards and leaned back in the chair, giving the cards a perfunctory glance before shifting his gaze to Heyes.
"Heyes?" he began.
"Mmm?" Heyes studied his cards, not looking at him.
"Lom told me… that Felton was murdered." Curry said, studying his face.
"Yeah." Heyes continued to stare at his cards.
Curry selected a card and threw it down. Heyes’ gaze remained fixed on his cards.
"Did you do it, Heyes?" Curry looked at him now.
Heyes sighed. After a time he said, "You think so, don’t you?" not looking at him.
"What I think is irrelevant. I’m asking you if you did it."
Heyes looked at him now, his face set.
"If I said no, would you believe me?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Curry stared back at him, "If it was the truth." he said flatly.
Heyes turned his attention back to his cards. Several moments later he said, "Presumably, Lom filled you in on the details?"
Curry nodded, "Yeah."
There was another silence. Eventually Heyes said, "Then there’s no point in my saying anything. The doubt is already in your mind, as it is in his. If I say no, you’re never going to believe me one hundred percent." He looked at Curry now, "Felton’s dead. That’s all there is to know."
Curry shook his head, "I want to know." he told him, "What reason would I have not to believe you?" he asked, his gaze boring into Heyes’. Heyes wasn’t in the habit of lying to him, and if he did, he could usually tell.
"What is it?" he asked, when Heyes said nothing, "Don’t you trust me?" he added, looking hurt at the idea, "You’re my friend. My partner. I just want to know the truth."
Heyes opened his mouth and then closed it again, his façade of self control beginning to crumble under Curry's scrutinising gaze. He would trust the Kid with his life, had done, but he couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know. He couldn’t admit the truth, but he couldn’t lie either. He looked across at him with sad, tortured eyes, and, in that instant, Curry knew. Heyes had killed him. The guilt was written deep in his eyes. He may have succeeded in hiding it temporarily, but he couldn’t hide it forever, and certainly not from him..
Although Lom had suspected him, Curry hadn’t really believed Heyes had done it until this moment. To begin with, slitting somebody’s throat wasn’t Heyes’ style, and, on the day he'd had tried to stop him shooting Felton, he had seen the doubt and uncertainty, about doing it, in his eyes and had believed that the shock of shooting him instead had finally extinguished his desire for revenge.
As the reality of it hit him, Curry's mouth fell open and his eyes widened in shocked surprise, a brief glimmer of sorrow lighting in their depths, mixed with disappointment, at the knowledge that, as well as his own life, Heyes had been prepared to risk his life too, merely to satisfy his quest for revenge.
Heyes saw his expression and was overcome with shame.
Killing Felton had been an obsession, and although it had sated his quest for retribution the act had filled him with revulsion and disgust, feelings which he had been struggling to come to terms with on top of his remorse at shooting Curry, the humiliation he still felt over his treatment at Felton’s hands, and his guilt about Josie’s death.
Now, he mistakenly thought he saw those feelings of revulsion and disgust in Curry's eyes, as he’d imagined he’d seen them in Lom’s, and suddenly he couldn’t handle it any more. He couldn’t bear them knowing what he’d done, couldn’t live through all the years that stretched ahead in his mind, knowing he was a murderer, having them look at him with ‘that’ look. They were both as against murder as he was - had been. They would never be able to understand why he’d had to do it. He didn’t even understand it himself. He wished to God he hadn’t done it, but at the same time was glad he had, and he loathed himself for it.
"Heyes?" Curry questioned, as an odd look came into Heyes’ eyes.
Heyes stood up, shaking his head, his cards falling to the floor as he turned and dashed blindly away, knocking over his chair as he did so.
"Heyes?" Curry called, getting to his feet and hurrying after him as best he could.
Heyes dashed into the bedroom and grabbed his gun. He would end it. Here. Right now. It was only fair after all. A life for a life - no, lives. He was not only responsible for Felton’s death, but Josie’s too. By rights he should hang for it, and for their other unlawful deeds over the years. Well, he would save everyone the trouble and do the job himself, and end his own misery in the process.
The gun was unloaded. He searched around for some ammunition, finding some in the dresser drawer.
Curry arrived in the doorway just as Heyes began loading bullets into the gun.
"Heyes… what are you doing?"
Heyes turned his startled gaze in his direction, not really seeing him, his mind locked in it’s mental anguish.
"Heyes?" Curry advanced towards him, a sudden knot of fear in his stomach at the desolate look in his partner’s eyes.
"Get away..." Heyes sidestepped him, frantically trying to get the gun loaded, but his hands were shaking so much he couldn’t get the bullets into the chamber.
Realization of what Heyes was planning to do suddenly hit Curry.
"No, Heyes, for God’s sake…" He lunged forward and grabbed his arm, trying to wrestle the gun out of his hand.
"Get away..." Heyes’ voice was agonized.
"No. You can’t do this. I won’t let you."
Curry was breathless, and faint, from the exertion, but he hung on, forcing Heyes back against the wall and pinning him there with his weight while he banged his hand repeatedly against the wall to try and loosen his grip on the gun.
"No…" Heyes muttered, turning his head from side to side, seeming almost in a trance.
The rough wood of the cabin walls cut into Heyes’ skin, pain numbing his hand until, eventually, his grip loosened and the gun fell to the floor.
Curry kicked it out of reach before letting go of Heyes, who, deprived of the means by which to escape from his mental anguish, sank to his knees with a howl of despair, slumping over the bed and burying his face in one arm, sobbing uncontrollably, his other arm hanging limply down, his fingers trailing on the floor, his hand cut and bleeding where Curry had smashed it against the wall.
He knelt down by him and pulled him up, hugging him to him.
"Ssh, it’s O.K." he told him, his own heart pounding, wildly, in his chest, shocked and frightened by Heyes’ behaviour.
"It’s O.K." he said again, "You’ve no need to feel bad about it. The bastard deserved it. You did society a favour, Heyes."
Heyes was beyond speech, beyond even coherent thought, as he sobbed, hysterically, in Curry's arms, oblivious to everything, overcome by the pain and despair, the shame and the guilt of the last few months.
He was no light weight in Curry's arms in his present condition, and he was breathless and in pain, but Heyes’ need was greater than his.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, cradling him in his arms, but, eventually, his sobs quietened, his body going limp as he slipped into an exhausted sleep.
Curry was too weak to lift him, so he lay him gently on the floor and covered him with a blanket before scrambling to his feet and picking up Heyes’ gun. He then went around the cabin collecting every gun and rifle Lom possessed along with every knife and razor and carried them all outside, dumping them on the ground and kicking them out of sight under the porch. Then he went across to the corral. He couldn’t lift a saddle, so he led one of the horses over to the wagon and managed to hook it up before struggling up onto it and riding into town to find Lom.
"Kid! What’s up?" Lom looked surprised when Curry staggered, white faced, into his office a short time later. He was exhausted, after his struggle with Heyes, and pretty close to collapse.
Lom hurried from behind his desk and Curry gratefully took his arm as he helped him to a chair.
"You… have to come… Lom." he said breathlessly, "It’s… Heyes… He tried to... kill himself."
"Wha…?" At first Lom thought he must be joking, but the look in Curry's eyes told him it was the truth, "Oh my God. Is he hurt?"
"No… but… I’m afraid… please, Lom… I can’t handle him alone."
"Of course." Lom left word with his deputy before helping Curry back onto the wagon and riding back to his cabin at full pelt.
Curry explained what had happened as they rode.
"He did kill Felton, Lom… He tried to deny it at first… but he couldn’t hide it. I saw it… in his eyes… and he knew I’d seen it… He just got up and ran. By the time I… caught up with him… he was loading up his gun… and he had this… real crazy look in his eyes… I knew what he was going to do..."
He told Lom how they’d fought for the gun and how he’d gathered up every other weapon he could find and thrown them out.
"He was hysterical." he told Lom, his voice hoarse from pain and emotion, "I stayed with him until he cried himself into exhaustion. Then I came for you."
They arrived back at Lom’s to find Heyes still on the floor where Curry had left him. Lom picked him up and put him to bed, bathing and bandaging his injured hand before helping Curry to bed in the other room. He was still weak after the shooting and his struggle with Heyes had exhausted him. Lom checked the wound in his chest to make sure it hadn’t opened up again and then re-dressed it before straightening up and studying his pale face. "Looks like I’ve got two invalids on my hands now." he said with a wry smile.
Curry raised a small smile, "I’ll be O.K. when I’ve rested up a bit." he said, "He was like a madman. I’ve never seen him like that... he scared the hell out of me."
"You rest a while. I’ll watch Heyes." said Lom.
"Lom." Curry called, as he turned to leave.
"Yeah?"
Curry studied his face for a moment, not sure whether to proceed with what he’d been about to say. He knew Heyes wouldn’t like it, but after what had happened today he didn’t think he had a choice.
"I… er… think there’s something you should know." he told him, frowning.
"Oh?" Lom took a step forward and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Heyes won’t like it if he finds out I told you this… but… after what’s happened today… I think you ought to know."
"Know what?" Lom looked puzzled.
"He didn’t tell us everything that happened with Felton."
Lom’s eyebrows shot up, "There’s more?" he said incredulously.
"Yeah." Curry nodded, "Doesn’t seem possible does it?"
Lom shook his head.
"It explains a lot about why Heyes was so… crazy… afterwards… and probably has more than a little to do with what’s happened today."
"Go on." said Lom.
Curry told Lom about Josie, relating the details of hers and Heyes’ abduction exactly as Heyes had told them to him. When he’d finished, Lom looked as sick as he himself had felt when Heyes had told him.
"He didn’t intend for us to know." said Curry, "He feels really bad about it. He thinks he’s responsible for her death, that he didn’t do enough to save her. He thinks he acted like a coward and that we’d think the same if we knew."
"But, that’s crazy. What could he have done against seven men?"
"I know. I tried to get it through to him that it wasn’t his fault, but…" Curry shrugged, "he still blames himself."
"When did he tell you all this?" asked Lom.
"Not long after we left here." Curry replied, "But, he didn’t tell me voluntarily… something happened…" He looked up at Lom, concern in his eyes, "I’d rather not say what… it’s his business. But, he was upset… and, because you said I shouldn’t let him brood on stuff, I’m afraid I badgered him until he told me." He sighed, "As I said, he really didn’t want anyone to know. He was bottling all his guilt and anger up. He tore me off a strip the next day for pushing him into telling me. Please don’t let on you know… I just though it might be… useful. "
Lom sighed, a frown on his face. He understood more fully now the pressures that had brought Heyes to this, but he had no idea what to do about it.
He raked a hand worriedly through his hair, "After all that… then shooting you… and killing Felton…" He shook his head, "It’s a hell of a lot to cope with." He gave a deep sigh and shook his head once more, "Maybe too much."
"But he was doing so well…"
"Maybe. But a person can only take so much. He was already struggling to come to terms with all that Felton did to him, and, it seems, to handle his guilt about Josie’s death, when, suddenly, Felton turns up to reawaken all the memories he’s been trying to forget. So he tries to kill him - despite it being against everything he believes in - and ends up shooting you instead, and then has to cope with all the guilt of that, the fear you would die, and with being cooped up in jail. He was half out of his mind then, and that’s probably why he went through with killing Felton. Then he had to try and cope with his guilt about that, on top of everything else, along with the fear that he might be discovered and hung, while at the same time trying to keep it all a secret and keep up a normal appearance." Lom shook his head, "It was only a matter of time before it all got too much for him to handle." He sighed, "I guess realizing you knew was the last straw and he just snapped."
Curry nodded, "Yeah."
Lom shook his head, "We’ll just have to wait, and hope he can pull himself out of this."
"I guess so." Curry muttered, his expression sombre.
"You try and get some rest." Lom told him, "You’re exhausted. I’ll keep an eye on Heyes."
"O.K." sighed Curry, as Lom left the room.
Lom went to fix himself some lunch as Curry had dragged him away from his office before he’d had time to eat and he was ravenous. He popped his head around the door to see if Curry wanted any, but he was already fast asleep.
He ate in the kitchen, chewing over what Curry had told him as he did so. After he’d eaten he cleared away and then went to sit on the front porch, enjoying the tranquility while they were both asleep. After all the trials and tribulations of the last couple of weeks, the peacefulness seemed extra sweet.
Some time later, his attention was drawn by sounds from inside the cabin. He got up and opened the door, to see Heyes, searching feverishly through the kitchen drawers.
"Heyes?" he called, entering the room and closing the door.
Heyes jumped, slamming shut the drawer he was looking in and turning to lean against it, looking like a cornered rabbit.
"What are you doing?" Lom asked with a frown.
Heyes didn’t reply but just stood, staring at him, breathing heavily. As Lom approached him, Heyes sidled around the table, away from him, and made a dash for the door, but Lom leapt after him, grabbing his arm, "Oh no you don’t." he told him, realizing that Heyes had still not recovered himself.
Heyes struggled frantically to get free of Lom’s grasp.
"No… let go…" he gasped.
"No." Lom wrestled him back into the bedroom, "Stop it, Heyes." he shouted, pushing him down onto the bed, "You’re not going anywhere, so you might as well save your energy."
Heyes continued to struggle for several moments before finally realizing he could not escape, whereupon he stopped and lay still, turning his face to the side, refusing to look at Lom.
"Why are you doing this?" asked Lom, still holding his shoulders down on the bed, "Life’s too precious to waste, especially over someone like Felton. Do you think he’d have cared if he’d killed you? Heyes?" he prompted when Heyes still refused to acknowledge him. "Do you?"
Lom let out a deep sigh and let go of Heyes, straightening up and looking down at him, hands on hips. Heyes rolled over away from him, curling up in a foetal position and wrapping his arms around his head.
With a sigh, Lom sat down on a chair by the window, not knowing what to do for the best. It was pointless trying to talk to him. At the moment he was beyond understanding anything, except the mental agonies he was suffering.
He’d barely seated himself, when Heyes scrambled off the bed and made a bolt for the door. He was almost out of the cabin when Lom caught up with him, either seeking to escape or hoping to find a weapon with which to end his mental torture.
Normally, Heyes would have been no match for Lom, who was a good four inches taller than him and had a strong, thick set, build as against Heyes’ lean frame, but desperation had increased his strength tenfold and, after struggling for several moments to restrain him, Lom had no alternative but to knock him out cold.
He carried him back into the bedroom, depositing him on the bed and sitting down on a chair by the window, watching him worriedly, wondering how he was going to prevent him from running off again.
He left the room and returned a few moments later with a length of rope.
As he entered the room, Heyes was just coming to his senses. Before Lom knew what was happening, Heyes was halfway out the door. He managed to grab him and dragged him back inside.
"No, Heyes." he shouted at him.
"Let go…" Heyes hissed at him, as Lom forced him down onto the bed.
"No. It’s for your own good, Heyes. You don’t know what you’re doing."
"Let me go." Heyes continued struggling, his anguished gaze showing no recognition of him.
Lom reached over with one hand for the length of rope which he’d dropped on the bed when Heyes had tried to run out.
"No, Heyes." he snapped, struggling to tie it around Heyes’ wrist, being careful not to hurt his injured hand if he could avoid it, "You’re not going anywhere until you’ve calmed down." He managed to fasten the rope around his wrist, and then, by holding onto it and keeping his knee on Heyes’ chest, he was able to grab Heyes’ other arm and tie his wrists together.
"No…" Heyes struggled frantically, his mood suddenly changing from angry desperation, to fear, "No… please…" He shook his head, his tone pleading. "…don’t…"
Lom shook his head, "I can’t take the risk of you running out on me." he told him, securing the rope and then, pulling his arms above his head, fastened the remainder to the metal bedhead effectively immobilising him.
"There." Lom stood up, breathing heavily, "Now, you can stay there until you calm down." He told him, raking his dishevelled hair back into place.
Heyes shook his head, struggling to free himself, "Let me go…" he begged, his expression a mixture of anguish and terror.
Lom guessed that tying him up had plunged his confused mind back to the time of his capture by Felton when they’d kept him tied up and beaten him. He obviously believed he was in for more of the same and was obviously terrified. But what choice did he have? If he released him, Heyes would probably run off again, in search of a weapon with which to kill himself, and, most probably, anyone who tried to stop him. He had to leave him there, regardless of his pleas, until he calmed down and could see reason. If he ever did. Lom was seriously beginning to wonder if he hadn’t lost his mind completely and would never recover. What would they do then? He shuddered, forcing the thought from his mind. He would be alright. He was strong. He just needed some time.
"Just relax, and calm down." he told him soothingly, "The sooner you calm down, the sooner you’ll be released."
Heyes closed his eyes tightly, still wrestling with the rope around his wrists, "Let me go…"
"No." Lom was firm.
"Please…" begged Heyes on a choked sob.
Unable to stand any more, Lom got up and left the room, closing the door after him and leaning against it, swallowing down the lump that had come to his own throat. After a few moments, he pushed away and looked around the door of Curry's room to see if he was awake, which he was. He opened the door further and went inside.
"What’s wrong?" Curry asked, noting Lom’s sombre expression and over-bright eyes.
Lom shrugged, momentarily too choked to speak. Presently, he sat down and explained the afternoon’s events. Curry listened with a worried frown.
"I just had to leave the room." Lom told him, "If I’d stayed any longer I’d have let him go, and then he’d have been off looking for a gun or a knife." He raked a weary hand through his hair.
"I just don’t know what to say or do to help him. I’m not even sure he can be helped. He may have lost his mind completely."
"Don’t say that." Curry cut in. "I won’t believe that. Not Heyes."
"I don’t want to think about it either, but it’s a fact we may have to face."
Curry looked away, his eyes bright with tears. Things must be serious for Lom to be at a loss for a solution. Lom always knew what to do. Finally, he turned back to face him, his face set, "No." he said firmly. "Just give him time."
At sunset, Lom fixed a meal and then took a tray in to Curry, who was asleep again. His face looked a more healthy colour now, Lom noted with relief. When he’d arrived at his office that morning, he’d been almost grey.
Lom shook him awake and offered him the tray, "Hungry?"
"Mmm. Ravenous." Curry maneuvered himself into a sitting position and Lom placed the tray across his lap before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"How are you feeling now?" he asked.
"Better." Curry replied between mouthfuls.
Lom nodded.
"How’s Heyes?"
"Still the same." Lom sighed, "I don’t like it, Kid." he told him, shaking his head worriedly.
Curry didn’t either, but he didn’t say so to Lom. He didn’t want to think about the implications if Heyes didn’t recover his sanity.
When Curry had finished eating, Lom picked up the tray and stood up.
"Stay in bed for the rest of today." he told him, "Don’t take any chances with that wound. I don’t want the two of you out of action."
Curry shook his head, "I don’t plan to. Don’t worry."
Lom took the tray away and cleared up. He wasn’t sure what to do about Heyes. He hadn’t eaten at all today and Lom was worried about the amount of meals he was missing. Slim at the best of times, he had lost pounds during his ordeal with Felton, which he hadn’t fully gained back. In the days following Curry's shooting, he’d been too upset to eat, and had only picked at his food since they’d got back to Porterville, since Killing Felton really, and he’d lost several more pounds that he could ill afford to lose. If he didn’t get some food into him, he would be physically ill, as well as mentally, and that wouldn’t help his recovery any. But what could he do? He couldn’t risk releasing him in his present state, and even if he did, it was doubtful he could get him to have anything. He sighed. The only other alternative was if Lom fed it to him himself.
He decided it was worth a try. It might even help to reassure him that Lom wasn’t his enemy.
He put some food on a plate and, taking a fork, went into Heyes’ room. He appeared to be asleep, but, as Lom closed the door, he jumped, staring at him with wild eyes as he crossed the room.
"How are you doing?" Lom smiled reassuringly.
Heyes ignored the question, his fearful gaze riveted on Lom’s face.
"I brought you something to eat." Lom continued, "You must be hungry by now."
Heyes eyed the plate of food suspiciously as Lom sat down on the bed and picked up a forkful. When he offered it to him, Heyes turned his face away.
"Come on, Heyes. You’ve got to eat." Lom tried again, but Heyes turned his face the other way.
"Please, Heyes." Lom tried several times to get the food into his mouth, but Heyes refused to co-operate, becoming more and more agitated with each attempt, wrestling with the rope securing his wrists as he tried to get away from him.
Exasperated, Lom threw the fork down onto the plate.
"You have to stop feeling guilty about this." he told him sternly, "Do you think Felton would have cared if the situation was reversed and he’d killed you? Huh? No. He wouldn’t have given a damn. He was an evil bastard, and you did everyone a favour by killing him." He sighed, "Don’t let him do this to you, Heyes. If you give up now, he’ll have beaten you. Don’t you see that?" He looked down at Heyes whose face was turned away from him, tucked behind his upper arm. He either couldn’t, or didn’t want to, acknowledge Lom’s words.
With a sigh, Lom got up and left the room, throwing away the food and rinsing the plate as he brooded on the problem. If only he could get some sort of rational response from him.
He looked in on him again a couple of hours later, relieved to find that he had at last fallen asleep. Perhaps, if he could get some rest, his mind might heal itself, Lom prayed.
He left the room and went in to Curry to find him fast asleep also. With a sigh, he crept out again.
He prowled restlessly about the cabin, thoroughly bored with his own company. He glanced at his watch. It was only nine o’clock. He would have liked to go to the saloon for a couple of hours, to unwind, but he didn’t want to leave Heyes and Curry alone in the cabin.
He crossed the room and picked up a bottle of scotch and a glass before crossing to flop down in an armchair by the hearth and pouring himself a generous measure. He downed it in two gulps and then poured another, which he sipped more slowly, gazing pensively into the fire, his mind slipping back to the times when they’d all ridden together as outlaws before Lom had gone straight and become a Sheriff. They’d had some good times back then there was no denying. He closed his eyes, his mind wandering on through time. He woke with a start some time later, not aware he’d slept. He looked at his watch. Eleven thirty. He put away the bottle and then took a quick look in on Heyes and Curry before turning in himself.
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