An Outlaw's Silence (manxman)(second story in The Crane Gang series)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Zachariah leapt from his horse, gun drawn and surveyed the homestead. "Goddammit!" Jebidiah's voice rang out as he too leapt from his horse and ran toward the two prone bodies lying bloody in the dirt with Eleanor crouched beside them, desperately pleading for help.

All around him, the family of the two injured-or worse-men rushed forward to offer help.

Zachariah stood frozen to the spot.

Please, God, no.

He couldn't..... He couldn't handle the pain and the guilt tearing through him. Zachariah had always been a loner for a reason. He had avoided attachments to protect himself after growing up with the abusive father he'd been raised by.

But now...

Now Pete, a man with a wife and quite possibly a child by now, was lying still and motionless in a pool of blood and Wyatt.

Dear God Wyatt.

From where he was, Zachariah could see the damage that being in Clint's hands had done to him. His face was battered and bruised. His clothes were ripped, torn and covered in dirt and blood.

Was he dead?

Zachariah's entire body shook.

If Wyatt was dead, if Pete was dead, it was his fault. They wouldn't have been involved in any of this if Zachariah could have taken care of his own problems from the start. He'd put Eleanor in danger which had led to Wyatt's capture and the horror laying in front of him right now.

"Zachariah, help them," Eleanor whispered, laying a gentle hand on his tense forearm.

His sister's soft voice broke through Zachariah's tormented thoughts. He rushed to Wyatt's side and crouched beside him. "He's alive," Craig stated. "But not by much."

It was obvious from the state of Wyatt that someone had had a hell of a time beating the man over and over again during his time in Clint's hands. Zachariah saw the bullet hole in his shoulder steadily oozing blood. He ripped the sleeve from his own black shirt and held the fabric tight against the bleeding wound.

Letting his gaze go to Pete, Zachariah somehow managed to find his voice. "How is he?"

"He won't be alive much longer if we don't get him tended to," Gill replied, his voice strained.

"I'm fine..." Pete whispered weakly, offering his best friend a ghost of his normally crooked and beaming smile.

"Yeah.. you're probably too damn dumb to die," Gill agreed, holding his hands over Pete's bleeding abdomen.

"There were three other men here but they got away," Eleanor said, standing awkwardly to the side and holding her arms tight around herself. "Clint was one of them."

Zachariah stood slowly, allowing Craig to take over holding the shirt over Wyatt's wound. Everything in him wanted to go after the bastards who were still breathing air after doing this to Pete and Wyatt. He wanted them to die.....

Then he took in the sight of Gill's red-rimmed eyes and trembling jaw as he urged his best friend to stay with him despite Pete's fading consciousness. He saw the torn and tortured look on Jebidiah's face as he tried to offer what strength and support he could to the man he loved while ignoring his own pain. Zachariah watched Craig who had tears shamelessly flowing down his cheeks as he worked hard to stop Wyatt's bleeding and tried to urge the man to wake up.

These people needed him. "We better get them to a doctor," Zachariah spoke up.

Jeb nodded. "There's a cart beside the barn there."

Gill stood. "I'll go get it ready."

Zachariah was stopped on his path to aid Gilliam when Jeb grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip. "I need to tell you something."

Zachariah could see from the fire in Jeb's eyes that the man was looking for a fight. He sighed. "We don't have time for this."

Jeb's grip tightened painfully. "You have time enough to hear what I have to say," he growled. "If either of my brother's die because you didn't handle your own shit and you pulled them into this.... I'll kill you myself and it'll be slow and it'll be painful and you'll wish you'd never stepped foot onto my ranch. Understood?"

Zachariah's first instinct was to knock Jebidiah's head clean off his shoulders, but he forced himself to look closer at the man. Beneath the anger shining in his green eyes there was a storm of pain, fear and worry.

And so Zachariah merely nodded and let his shoulders fall. Jeb's grip on his arm dropped and Zachariah quickly went to Gill beside the cart.

"Did he threaten your life?" Gill asked without looking at him.

"Let's just get the damn cart ready," Zachariah snapped. He was in no mood for conversation.

Gill locked the cart brake in place. "Those men don't deserve to die," he noted.

"No." Guilt shredded Zachariah's heart. "They don't."

Gill didn't look up from the rigging he was readying. "Glad we can agree on that."

Zachariah barely managed a nod before walking away to choose two horses to pull the men to town.

***

They rode without stopping and nearly killed their horses before they reached a town. Both injured men remained in a fitful state of unconsciousness but they at least kept breathing thanks to the skills Gill had learned from his mother.

Zachariah had never said any more earnest prayers than those he prayed during their travel. Please God, keep Wyatt alive, had become the only thought his mind seemed able to create.

Dust flew beneath hooves and wheels as they roared into town. Zachariah leapt from his spent horse in front of a small white house with a doctor's sign hanging from the picket fence. He raced to the door and didn't bother knocking before throwing it open.

"We have men in need of a doctor!" he bellowed to the empty sitting room.

A younger man, tall and thin with wire rimmed glasses, stepped into the room and nodded. "That is why most folks come here," he acknowledged with a raise of his chin.

His posture changed a bit as he let his gaze truly take in Zachariah. Zachariah knew he was seeing his heritage, his size, his scars and the blood covering his clothes, his arms and splattered across his face.

At that moment Craig and Jeb entered the house with Wyatt held in their arms. The doctor lost his bored, haughty expression and pointed toward the he'd just stepped out of. "Put him in there."

"There's another man," Jeb stated. "Zachariah, go help Gilliam bring Pete in."

Zachariah longed to stay with Wyatt. He knew that Jeb was staying between them intentionally but he was simply too tired to go to war with the man over it just now.

The war would come soon enough when Zachariah informed them he was going after Clint and that he was going alone. Revenge was going to be his-and only his-to exact.

A/N: Woohoo! Two chapters in one day :) I feel quite accomplished!