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~/~/~( Chapter 11 )~~~


Branson ran, his breath bursting in and out of his lungs as he sent a wild glance behind him. Seeing only the house, he looked back to his destination. The horses. He had to get to the horses, then he could escape.

He wiped a hand across his brow, finding it slick with sweat. Christ! He didn’t want to die, and that’s what would happen if Richardson got his hands on him. Branson shuddered. He had heard of some the things Richardson had done, and most of it to find him.

Branson scowled as he ran. None of this would be happening if Kevin Richardson had died like he was supposed to. He’d had two bullets in him, for Pete’s sake! Branson had thought him as good as dead. Swearing to himself, he shook his head. He should have made sure, but he had wanted to leave the Richardson homestead before the burning house attracted attention. Now it was coming back to bite him in the ass. The Judge had warned him about leaving loose ends, especially when Richardsons were involved.

Branson was halfway between the house and the barn where the horses were tied when a shout echoed from behind him, the voice stopping him in his tracks.

“Branson! Throw down your weapon!”

Slowly turning, Branson rested his hand on his gun. He blinked the sweat out of his dark eyes as he looked at what stood no more than fifty feet before him. If revenge could have a form, Branson now knew what it would look like. He slowly drew his gun out and tossed it several feet away to disappear in the long grass.

Kevin smirked slyly at Branson as he held his gun before him, the barrel trained on the man’s heart.

“Don’t even think about movin’, Branson,” toned Kevin, beginning to walk toward his enemy. “’Cause my bullet will be lodged in yer heart before the thought enters yer brain.”

Branson knew the truth in those words, but he didn’t forget he still had a weapon. It just wasn’t the .38 lying buried in the grass beside him that would save him. He was quickly coming up with a new tactic to get the upper hand in this fight. His words. Still, he couldn’t staunch his fear completely as his eyes shifted nervously as Kevin walked toward him. The black clad gunslinger oozed confidence in every determined stride he put forth.

Branson tensed as Kevin stopped several feet in front of him. If he had to die, he sure as hell wasn’t going to go like a pansy. He’d just try his damnedest to take Richardson out with him.

“Richardson,” Branson nodded, forcing his voice to be steady and threatening. “Gonna finally get yer dues, eh? Well,” Branson threw his arms out in a grand gesture, noticing how Kevin’s gun twitched at the movement. “Here I am.”

“Don’t. Move.” Kevin warned for the second time as his emotions battled between outright rage and disbelief. The man before him infuriated him, yet at the same time Kevin couldn’t believe the man was actually there. After all this time...

“Who hired you to kill my father,” Kevin ground out, his tone demanding an answer.

Branson actually laughed, “Who hired me? That’s the question ya waited nine years to ask while hunting me?” His lips forming a disgustingly sardonic smile, Branson baited Kevin’s anger, “You’ll get nothing from me, Richardson. Nothing, but what you already know. Your father is dead and rotting in his grave.”

“Shut up,” barked Kevin, his hand gripping the gun tighter. Hate and anger caused a tremor to sweep through his form, even as his green eyes dimmed in memory. The lurid scene he had ridden into near a decade ago replayed, all the horror relived for the hundredth time. Kevin breathed in sharply at the pain the visions brought to his fragile heart, blinking hard and shaking his head ever so slightly in an effort to clear the images away. He had to force himself to drag his pain filled gaze back to the man before him, who continued on with his militant narrative.

“He begged me, Kevin,” sneered Branson, stepping toward the faltering gunslinger. He stopped when Kevin managed to steady his gun, the gunslinger’s aim having wavered for a moment. “He begged me to just kill him.”

“Shut up.” The tremor in Kevin’s voice carried, and Branson smirked, his dark eyes studying the man before him.

“He’s dead, Richardson,” continued Branson, stepping closer to the gunslinger, “Dead because of you.”

Kevin’s eyes squinted in pain, their focus dulled slightly. Sweat began to bead on his face and Kevin noticed in a somewhat detached way that his hands were trembling. He fought to steady his gun. What was happening to him? Kevin had fought so hard for nine years to bury the events of that day. He’d never really faced the horror he had felt when he had rode up to his home that day.

Branson’s smirk deepened, his eyes watching the man faltering before him, “It’s your fault, Kevin. You killed your father!”

“NO!” cried Kevin as something inside of him snapped. Eyes of green flint sparked with a consuming fire of rage. His hand suddenly became rock steady as his finger pulled the trigger.

Branson took his only chance and lunged for the gun and Kevin, knocking the gunslinger to the ground as the weapon fired with a deafening crack. Branson hissed as the bullet carved a channel along his side, but bit back the pain as he grappled with Kevin for the gun.

Kevin was fighting for breath as well as his weapon, Branson’s knee having struck him square in his gut when the man had smashed into him. That knee continued to grind into the tender flesh as Kevin used his free hand to try and shove Branson’s bulk off of him. His other hand was locked about his gun as Branson clawed at his fingers and pounded his hand into the hard ground in attempts to release the weapon from Kevin’s grasp.

Suddenly, a meaty fist slammed into Kevin’s face. Pain flared and a white light flashed across his vision before he felt another force slam into his face. He tasted the metallic flavor of blood as his teeth sliced the inside of his cheek.

Blinking in an effort to clear his vision, Kevin managed to slam his own fist into Branson’s face. Kevin clenched bloodstained teeth as he punched Branson again, this time with so much force he felt something in his hand give with a crack. The punch threw Branson’s weight off of Kevin and he twisted away from the outlaw, feeling Branson’s hands scraping across his side before they disappeared.

Branson fell to the side, rolling twice before stopping his motion. He quickly gained his feet and raised his hand.

Gasping, Kevin struggled to his knees and twisted to face Branson. He began to raise his gun, but froze as he heard a gun cock. Kevin closed his eyes at the laugh he heard next, letting his gun fall back to his side as he sat back on his haunches in defeat.

“Toss the gun aside, Richardson.”

Opening his deadened eyes, Kevin stared up at the barrel of his own .44 conversion revolver. Not saying a word, Kevin tossed its twin several feet away. He now kneeled before his enemy unarmed.

Branson could feel the blood oozing from the graze in his side, but the pain was distant. His jaw throbbed in tune to his heartbeat, which thudded a wild cadence in his chest. Branson suspected it was broken from the blow Kevin had delivered, but all of it seemed almost muted in the sight which kneeled before him. He finally had Kevin Richardson right where he wanted him. With the pull of a trigger, Branson would no longer have to keep an eye open at night in fear of Richardson’s wrath. He was going to enjoy this.

“Kevin Richardson.” Branson winced as he spoke. His jaw was, at the very least, cracked. Nevertheless, he smiled as Kevin looked up at him. “I think it’s time I finished what I started nine years ago.”

Kevin let his eyes slide shut, his head lowering. All the air seemed to have left his lungs and his chest felt tight. Time seemed to slow as he waited for the bullet that would finally free his tortured soul.

CRACK!

The shot was curiously loud and sharp as it echoed through the morning air. When the sound faded, Kevin opened his eyes in surprise. He looked up and saw Branson staring down at his chest in shock. The man’s arm was still outstretched, but the gun laid on the ground at his feet after falling from numb fingers.

Blood darkened two spots on the outlaw’s chest, each steadily growing in size as the seconds slowly ticked by. One marked the center of Branson’s chest, the other his lower left side. A wet, thick gasp suddenly burst from Branson’s lips. Another followed after a pause, the outlaw raising his eyes to blink slowly at Kevin’s shocked face.

“What?” breathed Kevin, snapping his head around to look behind him.

Howie stood between him and the house, the healer slowly lowering his smoking gun. Shifting his gaze slightly, Kevin made out AJ’s form at the back of the house. The man still held his mare’s leg to his shoulder.

A sound caused Kevin to snap his attention back to Branson, just in time to see the man collapsing to the ground. Kevin’s heart jumped to his throat as fear took hold of him.

“NO!” cried Kevin, his voice cracking as he crawled toward Branson’s crumpled form. Kevin grasped handfuls of the man’s blood soaked shirt with trembling hands, lifting the gasping man off the ground slightly.

“No!” Kevin choked out again, his eyes roving over Branson’s face as the man’s gasps became fewer and further between. Kevin shook Branson, anger overtaking the fear. “Who hired you?! Damn it!” Kevin shook the man harder, “WHO HIRED YOU?!!!”

Branson took in a great gasp and suddenly managed to focus on Kevin above him. He could see fear and great anguish in the famous green eyes. After a long pause, Branson’s blood flecked lips curved into a smile. The smile stayed in place as his eyes went dull.

Kevin stared as the life left the man in his grasp. Dead eyes gazed past Kevin and he shook his head.

“No.”

Kevin’s hands let loose and Branson fell back to the ground. The gunslinger looked down at his hands. He stared at the blood that covered them. He curled them into fists.

“No.”

His back arched as he lowered his head. Elbows rested on thighs as his fists supported his head. A breath hitched in his chest.

“No.”

The hunched figure began to shake.


~/~/~( )~~~


Howie couldn’t pull his eyes off of the sight as AJ stepped up beside him. Howie felt like he had just stepped back in time and was watching his life replay itself. The scene before him was so hauntingly familiar and he wished it would disappear. He flinched as a hand grasped his shoulder.

“It ain’t the same, Howie.” AJ’s voice was soft, the tone low. “It ain’t.”

Howie slowly shook his head, but stayed silent.

“AJ?”

The small voice caught Howie’s attention, causing his heart to skip a beat. AJ winced, then turned to look back at the house. Angel stood at the corner, Aaron’s hand held tightly in her grasp.

“It’s all right, Angel,” called AJ, “Ya can come out now.”

The twins immediately sprinted toward the tracker and healer. Angel stared at Howie, then looked at AJ. “Who’s he?”

AJ gave a small smile, “That’s Howie. He’s a good friend. He won’t hurt ya.”

Aaron squinted, “Is he friends with Nick?”

“Yep.” AJ replied, nodding, “Real good friends.”

The twins seemed to accept this. They looked over at Kevin, but didn’t ask who he was. It was like they sensed that now was not the time. AJ glanced from Howie to Kevin and then back at the twins. “Why don’t we go and see Nick?”

“Yes, please,” Angel eagerly said. “Where is he?”

“I think he’s still in the barn with Brian an’… that old guy.” AJ frowned.

“Frederick,” supplied Aaron.

AJ was already ushering the twins away, his sad eyes flipping between Howie and Kevin as he walked. “Right,” he agreed distractedly, “Frederick.”

Howie watched them go until they disappeared into the barn. He then let his gaze fall back on Kevin’s hunched form. He sighed and then began to slowly walk toward the man.

Kevin heard him approach, but ignored him. He was lost in his own personal hell and he just couldn’t stop shaking. He wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing would come out.

“Kevin?”

The voice was soft, low. It carried the weight of pity and it angered Kevin.

“Kevin, answer me.”

A hand touched his shoulder and Kevin snapped. He lashed out with an arm. Howie fell to the ground at the contact that had slammed into his chest, his eyes following Kevin as he surged to his feet. The man glared down at him.

“Don’t touch me!”

Kevin glanced down at Branson before stumbling away. He didn’t get more than several yards before his legs gave out and he was again on his knees.

Undeterred, Howie climbed to his feet and approached Kevin again. He kneeled down in front of him. Kevin avoided his gaze, studying the ground. For a moment, Howie stared at Kevin. When he spoke, the words were loud in their honesty.

“I had a wife once.”

Kevin’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. Howie just stared sadly at Kevin as he continued.

“Had a baby girl, too.”

Kevin’s eyes widened slightly at that. Howie glanced down at the ground.

“They died.” Howie locked eyes with Kevin. “Actually, they were murdered. And in our home. Our home, Kevin. Home is s’posed ta be safe.” Howie shook his head, glancing away before continuing. “I found the men that came into our home and then I killed ‘em.”

Howie held out his hand and clenched his fist, “I held my gun in this hand and fired until it fired no more. Even then, I kept pullin’ the trigger. The hammer just clicked on empty chamber after empty chamber, but I couldn’t stop.” Howie stared at his hand, “I couldn’t stop because the pain wasn’t going away like it was s’posed to. I’d had my revenge, but I’d never felt so empty.”

Howie closed his eyes and dropped his hand to his lap. Kevin could only stare at the man before him, seeing the Spaniard in an entirely new light. He jumped slightly when Howie spoke again.

“Killin’ the man that murdered your father won’t make the pain go away, Kevin. Nothin’ can make the pain go away ‘cept time and acceptance. You may never find out who hired Branson to murder yer father.” Howie opened his eyes and looked across at Kevin. “Maybe yer not s’posed to. Either way, the only thing that can make the pain go away is you. It’s up to you. Don’t make the same mistake as me.”

Kevin eyes squinted in pain. It was pain that he wanted to stop, pain that he wanted rid of after carrying it for nine years. He just wanted it to stop, all of it to just stop.

“I can’t,” choked Kevin. “I just… I don’t think I can do what you ask. I just want it all to stop, and findin’ the man who put the hit on my father is the only way I know how to make it go away.”

“But it’ll fade, Kevin,” answered Howie, slowly reaching a hand out and resting it on Kevin’s shoulder. “In time it’ll fade, now that you have friends to help you.”

Kevin’s eyes bored into Howie’s and his jaw flexed. His gaze faltered.

“Trust me, Kevin.”

Kevin brought his gaze back up.

“I’ll get you through it. We all will.” Howie squeezed Kevin’s shoulder. “Let it go.”

Kevin was quiet for several minutes, but he soon gave a short nod. “I’ll try.”


~/~/~( )~~~


Brian was getting worried. He knew he was supposed to move Nick out of the barn like AJ had said, but he didn’t know where to go and he didn’t think moving Nick right now was a good idea. The drifter had fallen unconscious shortly after AJ had left. That was over thirty minutes ago and Nick had yet to awaken.

A wrinkled hand appeared in Brian’s field of vision as he stared worriedly down at Nick, the hand resting on the youth’s brow.

Frederick looked across at Brian, “He’s got a fever.”

Brian solemnly nodded, “His wound is infected. I- I don’t know what to do…”

Frederick could tell he was witnessing something few people ever saw. Brian was unsure of himself and scared. He laid a hand on the gambler’s arm, “He’ll be okay. We just have to take care of him.”

Brian glanced up, forcing a small smile onto his lips before returning his gaze to Nick’s face. He was intently searching for any sign that his friend was waking up. So when the door to their little haven suddenly flew open, Brian was so surprised that he spun around and had to scramble for the gun AJ had left with him. As he finally grasped it and brought it before him, he almost couldn’t catch himself in time to not pull the trigger.

“Nicky!” cried Aaron, exploding into the barn with Angel in tow. “Where’s Nick?!”

“Gol-darn it! I told you two to wait a sec!” scolded AJ’s voice before the angered man stepped into the barn. He glared at the twins, “Brian dang near blew yer heads off! Ya gotta be more careful.”

“You can’t tell us what to do,” scowled Aaron.

“No. He can’t, but I can.”

“Frederick!” cried Angel, launching herself into the old man’s arms. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Angel. Thanks to our new friends, that is,” smiled Frederick, soon including Aaron in the hug.

AJ had to smile at the small reunion, then he walked toward Brian. He went down to one knee and looked anxiously down at Nick.

“How’s the kid?” AJ asked in a quiet voice.

Brian frowned, placing the gun back on the floor beside him before answering, “Not well. He has a high fever and has been oblivious to the conscious world for nearly three quarters of an hour.”

AJ nodded, “So, in translation the kid has been out cold for 45 minutes an’ has one heck of a fever.”

Brian couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling, despite the situation, “Yes.”

“Nick’s sick?”

Brian looked to the young blond boy that suddenly stood next to him, “Yes, he is. Your name is Aaron, correct?”

“Yeah and that’s my sister, Angel,” Aaron pointed to the blond girl still in Frederick’s arms. “And Nick is our older brother, but you already know that ‘cause we met before kind of. Um… Is Nick gonna get better? ‘Cause Ma got sick and she didn’t get better.”

Brian’s eyes saddened at the child’s words and he noticed as AJ winced. He tried to smile convincingly to the boy, “Yes. Nick will get better. He just needs some medicine and care.”

Angel sniffed, stepping out of Frederick’s arms to kneel close to Nick’s side. She looked down at her brother sadly, “They said that about Mama, too. They lied.”

Aaron studied the gambler, “Are you lyin’ to us?”

Brian’s mouth opened in shock. He was usually so good with kids, but these two seemed older beyond their years. “No. I am not lying, for if I were I would also be lying to myself.”

It looked as though Aaron didn’t know how to take that answer, but he soon nodded. Brian half smiled and then leaned over to lay his hand on Nick’s forehead. He hissed at the heat he felt.

“His fever is rising. We need Howie.” Brian looked to AJ, “Where is he?”

AJ faltered a bit before answering, “He’s… with Kevin. Outside.”

Brian’s eyebrows rose, “Is it… over?”

“Oh, yeah,” toned AJ, eyes downcast. “It’s over. Branson is dead and the only outlaw still livin’ is trussed up in the house.”

Brian pursed his lips, “Arlen?”

AJ shook his head, “Nope, it’s not him. He’s…” AJ glanced at the twins, “…dead.”

“Good riddance,” Brian declared, his voice strong. When AJ immediately narrowed his eyes and gave a little shake of his head, Brian frowned. AJ glanced toward the twins. Brian understood and shock took hold of his face, “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay,” said Angel, shrugging slightly. “He was never no real Daddy to us. He was always so mean. We didn’t like him.”

Aaron shook his head, anger curling his mouth into a frown, “I hated him. I’m glad he’s dead.”

Brian’s eyebrows rose, surprised and dismayed at the words that came from such a young child. He frowned when Angel added her own opinion.

“He was a bad man,” she nodded, agreeing with her twin.

AJ straightened, standing beside Brian, “I’ll… go get Howie and Kevin.”

With that, AJ left out the door he had come in through.


~/~/~( )~~~


AJ was relieved when he saw Kevin and Howie walking toward the barn. He jogged up to them.

“Nick’s in a bad way, Howie,” AJ grabbed his friend’s arm and began pulling him toward the barn, trying to hasten their pace. “He’s burnin’ up somethin’ fierce.”

They quickly reached the barn and rushed through the door. Howie immediately went to Nick’s side. He kneeled down and felt the drifter’s forehead, then quickly focused on the old bullet wound. He lifted Nick’s shirt and hissed at the sight. The wound was an angry red and swollen. It was torn open where it had previously started to heal and a yellow substance was mixed in with the blood slowly leaking from the wound.

“He has a nasty infection,” toned Howie, tentatively touching the wound. Nick groaned slightly, but didn’t wake. Howie looked up to the others, “We have to get him in the house and on a bed. I need my bag so I can treat him. I need some boiled water, too, to help me clean out this wound.”

“I’ll get the horses and your bag,” spoke Kevin for the first time and drawing Brian’s attention, but before the gambler could start to speak Kevin had turned and walked out the door.

The gambler looked torn as he switched his gaze back and forth between Nick and the door Kevin had just walked out. AJ noticed.

“I got the kid, Brian,” he assured, giving Brian a little shove to the door. “Go an’ help Kevin.”

Brian was still reluctant to leave Nick, so Howie spoke next, “Go, Brian. We can get Nick to the house. Go.”

Glancing around, Brian finally nodded and quickly walked out the door. AJ watched him leave, then looked down at Nick. He sighed.

“I’ll get his legs.”


~/~/~( )~~~


By the time Brian caught up to Kevin, the man had already reached the edge of the trees.

“Kevin!” Brian called, hoping the gunslinger would wait for him. “Hold on a second!”

Kevin glanced back at Brian, but did not pause. He continued on and walked into the trees. Brian scowled, breaking into a run. He kept Kevin in his sight the best he could as he weaved through the trees. He had to as he had no idea where the horses were hidden.

Brian finally saw the horses and Kevin, the gunslinger was almost done tacking them up. Brian stumbled to a halt, leaning heavily against a tree as he attempted to catch his breath. His arm was starting to bother him again and he was feeling rather hot after the short run and a bit lightheaded. He was way out of shape. Brian scowled at himself, then shook it off as Kevin was now beginning to leave with the three horses in tow.

“Kevin,” yelled Brian, his voice still a little breathy from the run. “Please, just wait a couple minutes.”

“Nick doesn’t have a couple minutes, Brian,” Kevin said shortly, moving to leave again.

“Just wait!” Brian cried out, moving to stand in Kevin’s way. Blaze snorted behind Kevin, annoyed.

Kevin glowered, “What, Brian? What the hell do you want?!”

“Are you okay?”

The question caught Kevin off guard, “What?”

Brian wiped at his forehead, then squinted up at his cousin, “I want to know if you are okay.”

“I-“ Kevin broke off, unsure. He tried again, speaking softly, “I don’t know.”

Brian looked uncomfortable for a moment, then spoke, “You… You know that I am here for you. Don’t you, Kevin?”

Kevin stared a Brian for a long moment, studying the gambler before answering. “I think I’m beginning to learn.”

Brian gave Kevin a small smile, “I guess that’s a good start, right?”

Kevin returned the smile with a small one of his own, “Right.”