The wagon continued its slide down into the icy mud that had swallowed Heath’s entire body, save the head. The weight was stifling him, rendering his respiration shallow and barely audible.

Victoria shrieked at this frightening sight, begging Dixon to hurry. She held Heath’s head between her hands, rubbing her thumbs against his frozen cheeks to restore some blood circulation while she tried to coax him into responding to her voice.

“Heath, it’s Mother. Hang on, son, we’re going to get you out.”

Dixon removed the hindering boxes and barrels from the careened buckboard and grabbed a hold of the railing. He pushed upwards while Victoria endeavoured to pull Heath from underneath. The mud submerging her son was like cement. It wouldn’t allow her to release its prey.

Dixon’s body quivered under the weight but held on to give the terrified mother a second attempt at freeing her precious boy. With Herculean strength, she succeeded in sliding Heath’s limp body a few inches towards her just as Dixon lost his grip, sending the wagon to fall aback on Heath. The mud hole swallowed him in one single gulp like quicksand. Victoria swiftly managed to grab a hold of Heath’s arm before he sank deeper.

Dixon took two deep breaths to muster up more strength to lift the wagon a second time. Victoria evoked God’s help as she pulled once more and with a sucking sound, Heath’s body was released from the mud’s stranglehold.

Victoria cradled her blue-eyed angel in her arms, wiping the mud off his face. She beckoned Dixon to hand her a clean blanket that she spread over Heath’s hypothermic body. She clenched him close to her chest, hoping her warmth would work its magic.

The ground resounded with the sound of trampling hooves. Convinced the two bounty hunters had picked up his trail, Dixon disappeared behind the shrubbery.

The two men reined in their horses and asked Victoria if she’d seem a stranger roaming about in the woods. Obliged to Dixon for his help in saving her son, she answered negatively and they hightailed it back into the dark to resume their search for the wanted man.

Once the coast was clear, Dixon hobbled to Victoria and knelt beside Heath cradled in her arms. He felt his cheek.

“He’s awfully cold. I don’t think he’s going to hold on much longer.”

“You must ride out to our ranch and get help.”

“Lady if I do that I’m bound to run into those two bloodhounds and you know what will happen if they find me?”

“Please, I beg of you,” Victoria implored with a sobbing voice, “if you don’t my son will die.”

“I can’t risk it.”

“My eldest son is a lawyer. If you help me I’ll ask him to represent you.”

“Lady, no lawyer in the entire country can help me now.”

“If what you told me is true, Jarrod can have you exonerated.”

“Jarrod? Are you talking about Jarrod Barkley?”

“Yes”

“You’re…you’re a Barkley?”

“Yes. Victoria Barkley. And this is my son Heath.”

“I’ve heard of his reputation. But how can you be sure he’ll agree to defend me?”

“If you save his brother’s life, he will. Oh, please mister Dixon. You’re my only hope.”

Dixon’s heart sank to the helpless mother’s plea. The woman’s compassion and warmth drilled a hole in his otherwise impregnable armour, leaving him vulnerable to her influence. She made him feel as though he was part of her family, one of her boys. He looked at Heath barely breathing and experienced a twinge of remorse at his standing there, watching Heath rendering up his soul without lifting a finger to help. What was happening to him? He suddenly felt pity for this dying man, a total stranger.

He lifted himself up and hurried to Victoria’s horse. He swung on his bare back and kicked him into a gallop.

Taking heed of avoiding the bounty hunters on his path, Dixon managed to thread his way to the Barkley ranch where everything was quiet. It was close to midnight and the family members had retreated into their rooms for the night.

Dixon slid down the horse and pounded on the front door, luring everyone downstairs.

Nick and Jarrod stayed on their guard, ordering Audra to remain upstairs. Silas opened the door and Dixon hobbled in.

“Are you the Barkleys?”

“That’s right. What do you want?” Nick asked gruffly. “Your mother sent me to get you. Your brother Heath is hurt bad. Their wagon broke down a few miles from here.”

“My God. Nick hitch up the wagon,” Jarrod urged.

“Right away.”

“Nick flew out of the house while Jarrod grabbed a rifle and his gun.

Audra ran down the stairs. . Jarrod, I’ll get Doctor Merar.”

“No! You’re forbidden to go into town at night. It’s not safe. I’ll ride out for the doctor after we get Heath.”

“But Jarrod…”

“Not but…,” Jarrod interrupted. “You prepare Heath’s bedroom for what the doctor might need: water, blankets, cloths, anything you can think of.”

“Okay.”

Jarrod and Dixon exited the house and joined Nick at the barn who was finishing hitching up the team. With Dixon in the back and Jarrod sitting next to him, Nick whipped the horses into a gallop.

Victoria felt Heath slipping away despite her numerous attempts at keeping him warm.

“Hang on, son,” she murmured in his ear. “Help’s on its way.” She kissed his burning forehead.

Her sombre expression turned to delight when she heard the sound of hooves drawing closer.

The horses hadn’t come to a complete halt that both Nick and Jarrod jumped down the buckboard. They dashed to Victoria’s side, holding their cyanotic brother.

Nick knelt down beside them. “How is he?”

“Not good. Quick, we don’t have a minute to spare.”

Nick and Jarrod each grabbed a hold of Heath. The stiffness of their brother’s body sent chills up their spines. They feared the worse.

They carried Heath to the buckboard where they laid him in the back and wrapped him in thick blankets. Dixon hoped in the back to lend a hand in settling the injured man.

Jarrod pulled Victoria aside. “Mother, who is this man?”

“His name is Harry Dixon.”

“Harry Dixon? the escaped murderer? Mother, he’s a dangerous criminal!”

“Is he? Would he have done what he did if he were? I told him you’d represent his case in court.”

“What?”

“He saved your brother’s life, Jarrod. He even jeopardized his own freedom to come and get you. We owe him that much.”

Back at the ranch, Heath was laid gently in his bed. Victoria stripped him of all his mud-crusted clothes and after giving him a sponge bath, tucked him with clean sheets, blankets and quilts. She sat on the rim of the bed and touched his forehead. Heath was crimson with fever and still in a deep sleep. She prayed for Jarrod’s safe return with the doctor.

With a mere touch of her hand against Heath’s burning cheeks, she could feel the excruciating agony he suffered pinned underneath the wagon during the endless hours waiting for her to return with help. She lowered her head and sighed, resting her darling boy’s fate in God’s hands.

Nick stood behind Victoria, gazing at Heath. He recalled the cherished memories of the past year spent with his new kin. A baby brother he would sometime rough up and often tease but out of affection and admiration not out of malice. Heath’s chivalry and bewitching good looks were a powerful magnet with ladies, which occasionally roused Nick’s ire and a whiff of jealousy. Heath had inherited the Barkley’s charm, wisdom and strength. Nick entertained no doubt that he was going to pull through.

Jarrod arrived with Dr. Merar.

“Thank God, Jarrod,” Victoria signed.

“How is he, Mother?”

“No change.”

Dr. Merar sat on a chair by the bed and began examining the patient by taking his pulse. As he applied his stethoscope onto Heath chest, he heard a faint moan.

“Heath, can you hear me? It’s doctor Merar. Open your eyes for me.”

The moans grew into loud grunts. Heath’s face was disfigured by intense pain radiating from his broken legs.

“Mother,” he called out, squirming and twitching.

“I’m here, son,” she appeased, lacing her fingers with his.

“It hurts. My legs…they hurt bad,” he cried.

Dr. Merar lifted the sheet off Heath’s legs to peer at the wounds and began groping the injured limbs to locate the fractured areas. With each touch, Heath cringed. Victoria took both of his agonizing son’s hands and enfolded them tight in hers in a desperate attempt to alleviate his suffering.

“Can’t you give him something for the pain, Howard?” she asked, no longer able to bear her son’s pain.

Dr. Merar nodded and reached into his medical bag for a flask of morphine and a syringe.

“What are you giving him?” Nick asked, disturbed by the substance’s appearance.

“Morphine.” He injected a small dose into Heath’s arm.

“Can’t you give him something else?”

“Your brother’s in extreme pain. This is the only medication that will stop him from hurting.”

Quickly, Heath’s body went numb. The opiate plunged him into a drunken stupor. The room began swimming around him. His head swaying, his eyelids sagging, he soon drifted off.

The sight of his brother curdled Nick’s blood, hurtling him to his Civil War days. Pictures of wounded soldiers who were administered the wonder drug with promises of instant relief. Contrariwise, it was a cunning evil solidly planting its roots within, constantly craving for more, pushing its host to the limit of tolerance and driving him to ultimately seek asylum into death. It was “The Hidden Fiend”. Nick feared Heath would be its next victim.

“Nick, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, Mother.”

Nick left the room. Worried, Victoria followed.

“Nicolas Barkley, stop right there,” she ordered with a stern voice.

“Mother, leave me alone!”

“Don’t you use that tone with me, young man! Look at me!”

Nick grudgingly turned round to face her. She walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “What’s really bothering you?”

“That thing.”

“What thing?”

“That morphine stuff he gave Heath.”

“Dr. Merar said it was to alleviate his pain and it worked.”

“Oh yeah it works all right! More than you can possibly imagine.”

“Could you be more specific?”

“Morphine is terribly addictive, Mother. One shot of this and you’re hooked. You can’t get enough and you always crave for more and more and you...” an emotional Nick choked up on his words. “Mother, I’ve seen too many good war soldiers kill to get their hands on that liquid. You can’t reason with them, they become possessed. And I’m afraid Heath is....”

“Now, now...he won’t.”

“That’s not a choice he can make so easily. Now that it’s in him, he’ll have to fight it out and believe me when I say you don’t want to be around with the struggle begins.”

“What would you have Dr. Merar do instead.”

Nick sighed in despair. “I don’t know. That’s just it, I don’t know.”

The next morning, Nick was sitting in a chair by Heath’s bed, watching him, keeping his eyes peeled for the slightest motion.

Heath’s eyes blinked.

“Hey you.”

“Nick?”

“Who else?”

Heath glanced around the room with great confusion. “Where am I?”

“You’re in your room at the ranch. How are you feeling?”

“Groggy.”

“No wonder. Doc pumped you up full of drugs.

Heath began to stir.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know where I am. Please tell me!” Heath whimpered, completely lost in a whirl of confusion.

Nick recognized the signs of hallucination. He leaned closer to Heath and rubbed his arm to soothe his fear. “It’s okay, Brother Heath. I’m here. Go back to sleep. Shhhhh, go back to sleep. Everything’ll be fine.”

Nick looked upwards. “Please...give me the strength to help him.”

A week later, Dr. Merar was called to the ranch when Heath complained of severe leg pains. Although he’d given the young man a clean bill of health the day before, Heath appeared to be in agony, crying and wriggling in his bed. He was in a dreadful state.

Nick returned home after a hard day working in the field and climbed up to his room. He passed by Heath’s bedroom.

“What’s going on?”

“Heath’s in pain. His legs are still bothering him,” Jarrod answered.

Nick noticed the flask of morphine on the night table and the syringe in Dr. Merar’s hand.

“No! Don’t give him that.”

As Nick pounced on the doctor to jerk the syringe out of his hands, Jarrod grabbed him by the arms and grappled with him.

“Nick, calm down!”

“Don’t give him that stuff, please!” Nick begged.

“Nick, can’t you see he’s in pain.”

“No he’s not! He just wants you to believe he is so that you can give him more of that poison. Don’t give him anyone, I beg of you. Stop!”

Too late! The morphine was now flowing freely in the young man’s blood.

Tears coursed down Nick’s face. “God! We’re killing him!”

Nick wrenched himself free of Jarrod’s grab and left the room.

“I’d hate to admit it, but Nick could be right.” Merar said.

“How so?”

“Heath’s legs have begun to heal. He shouldn’t be having such intense pain. I’ve read that the substance had adverse effects, but to dull the agony of patients with serious fractures it’s the most powerful medication we have so far.”

“What should we do?” Victoria asked.

“If he further complains, I’ll administer him a diluted solution. Decrease the dosage to establish a gradual withdrawal.”

“Will it work?” Jarrod asked, not convinced of the method’s expected results.

“It has in some cases.”

“And in others?” Victoria added.

Dr. Merar stared at her and sighed, “The patients died.”

Dixon was finishing his breakfast in the dining room when he decided to drop by Jarrod’s study to find out how his case was coming along. He stopped at the ajar door and eavesdropped on a conversation between the lawyer and his mother.

“Jarrod, there must be something you can do. That young man risked his own life to save your brother’s. We have to help him.”

“Mother, my hands are tied. The eyewitness account is that he shot the man in cold blood without prior provocation. Now if we can’t prove otherwise, we don’t have a case.”

“I believe he’s innocent.”

“Your personal impression won’t carry much weight in court, Mother. I want to help, believe me, but I can’t. All the evidences are against him.”

Jarrod confirmed what Dixon had feared. He had overstayed his welcome in the Barkley family and decided then to slip out of the house and return to his fugitive life.

Three weeks flew past. Heath’s legs were now strong enough to sustain his body weight but the young Barkley stubbornly refused to perform the daily exercises Dr. Merar had recommended to restore muscle tone and steady blood flow. Every now and again he would complain of stabbing pains, requesting more morphine to alleviate his physical torture. He lolled in bed and slept for the most part of the day.

Dr. Merar had done his best to decrease the dosage by lessening the drug’s potency with water but the demon had already established a stronghold and was in command. It needed the regular doses to keep alive, dominating its host, forcing him to manipulate his family into believing he was in agony.

The Barkleys hadn’t a clue as to what to make of Heath’s condition, Dr. Merar included. Nick, however, was on to his brother’s stratagem to feed the fiend within and decided it was time to take the bull by the horn.

Nick walked past Heath’s room and gave a cursory look inside. He was more than relieved to see his brother sitting on the edge of his bed. He leaned against the door, watching him, proud that Heath was feeling emboldened enough to try to stand on his asthenic legs.

“Come on you can do it, Heath!” Nick encouraged. “Come on!”

“I...I can’t,” Heath gasped out, painfully lifting his legs back onto the bed.

“Heath, you must do the exercises Doc gave you.”

“Nick, it’s too painful.”

“How long are you planning to keep up the charade?”

“What?”

“I’m on to you, Brother. Can’t fool an old war soldier.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ll soon find out.”

“I need Dr. Merar.”

“No you don’t.”

“Nick, my legs hurt.”

“Just your imagination, Cutie. Your legs are fine.”

“Mother!” Heath yelped out.

“She can’t help you. Only you can.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I love you and don’t want to lose you to that monster living inside you.”

Victoria rushed to Heath’s bedroom door with Audra and Jarrod.

“What is it Heath? Did you call me?”

“Yes, Mother,” Heath sobbed. “I want you to....”

“No!” Nick bawled, closing the door. He bolted it by wedging in the back of a chair underneath the knob.

“Nick, open this door at once!” Victoria shouted, banging on the door.

“No, Mother. That’s enough! Heath and I are going to squash that beast once and for all. Please leave us alone. Don’t come in under any circumstances. It might get ugly but it’s for his own good.” Nick warned.

“What are you going to do to me?” Heath shivered.

“What I should have done before it went this far.”

Nick pulled up a chair and sat next to Heath’s bed.

In the hallway, Victoria urged Jarrod to ride into town to get the doctor.

“Mother, what’s happening? Why is Nick acting this way?”

Victoria simply shook her head and sighed.

Moments later, Jarrod returned to the ranch with Dr. Merar. Victoria and Audra were pacing up and down the hall while Nick was in Heath’s bedroom patiently reading a book while his brother slept.

“Victoria, what’s going on?”

“Nick has locked himself with Heath and he won’t let us in.”

Dr. Merar knocked on the door. “Nick…Nick, it’s Dr. Merar. Open the door.”

“Go away Doc.”

“Nick I think I know what you’re trying to do but I must warn you, it can be dangerous.”

“I’m aware of the risks involved, Doc. I’ve been through this before. But it must be done now, before it’s too late to save my brother.”

“I could try going through the window,” Jarrod suggested to Dr. Merar.

“No, no…leave him be. I believe he knows how to handle the crisis. He might possibly be more successful at it than I could.”

“What is he planning to do?” Victoria asked, worried.

“Since gradual withdrawal failed, he’s going to adopt the harsh approach. Deny him of morphine for as long as it takes for Heath’s body to sever its drug dependency. It’s a brutal method, often bearing tragic consequences.”

“Are you saying my brother could die?”

“Hope it doesn’t come to that, Audra. The next few hours will be torture for the delicate ears. I suggest you women stay downstairs until it’s over. Jarrod and I will stay with Nick.”

Victoria squeezed Dr. Merar’s arm. “Thank you.”

Victoria and Audra walked away.

“Nick, open the door. I need to check Heath’s vital signs.”

“No drugs, Doc, I mean it.”

Nick walked over to the door and removed the chair from underneath the knob and let Jarrod and the doctor in the room.

“How long has he been asleep?”

“About twenty minutes.”

Dr. Merar sat on the bed and checked Heath’s pulse.

Jarrod walked over to a flustered Nick.

“Are you all right?”

“Not really. The worse is yet to come. Brace yourself for a night of screaming, kicking, swearing, name-calling and…agony. Are you sure you’re up to this, Brother?”

“We Barkley stick together, through thick and thin.”

“How is he, Doc?”

“So far so good. He’s sleeping soundly.”

Trembling like a leaf, Nick folded his arms across his chest and took in deep breaths.

“Nick, you’re shivering.”

“I’m scared, Jarrod. I’m scared we might already be too late.”

An hour passed. Jarrod had gone downstairs to get a fresh pot of coffee while Nick and Dr. Merar stayed with Heath.

Sitting by his brother’s bed, hands tightly folded over his mouth, Nick anxiously awaited the fateful moment when the beast would rouse, clamouring to be fed. He knew the critical juncture was at hand when Heath began to toss and turn.

“Doc!”

Dr. Merar stood from his chair and touched Heath’s forehead. The young man was dripping with perspiration.

“He’s extremely warm.”

“Then this is it.” Nick exhaled.

He sat on the rim of the bed and patted Heath on the shoulder.

“Okay, Cowboy. Show me what you’ve got.”

Heath’s huffing became increasingly louder.

“Come on, wake up!” Heath? Heath, can you hear me?” Nick coaxed, slapping him mildly on the cheek.

Heath goggled at Nick and cowered away from him.

“Get away from me!” Heath yelled, pushing Nick away.

Nick clenched his brother’s flailing arms, pinning them against his chest to hinder him from injuring himself.

“Let me go!”

“No!”

“I hate you!” Heath vituperated.

“Of course you do,” Nick retorted, pretending to agree.

“Please, Nick,” Heath cried. “I’m in agony.”

Nick was ripping apart at the seams but he had to remain level-headed and avoid yielding to Heath’s wailings.

“Come on, little one…let it out. Let it all out.”

Jarrod came back into the room with a fresh pot of coffee.

“Need some help, Nick?”

“Thanks, Jarrod, but I can handle it so far.”

“Jarrod!” Heath snivelled.

Jarrod walked closer to the bed. “What is it, Heath?”

“Please, I’m hurting.”

“Don’t let him inveigle you,” Nick warned to his bleeding-hearted brother.

Heath’s body suddenly went into convulsions.

“Jarrod, grab his legs. Doc, stay close by just in case.”

Heath screamed his lungs out. The sound wafted all the way down to the livingroom where Victoria and Audra were sitting on pins and needles.

The bellowing became too much for Audra to bear who covered her ears with her hands.

“Mother, what are they doing to him? I can’t stand it anymore!”

“Let’s go outside.”

Upstairs, the fighting continued.

“God, he has the strength of thousands!”

“Want to switch places, Nick?”

“No, I’m okay, Jarrod. Come on you bastard! Let my brother go! Come on, Heath…fight it out!”

The struggling reached a peak where Heath belched all over his bed. He started choking on his vomit.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Nick snorted, holding Heath by the waist and thrusting his fist against his back. “I won’t let you take the coward way out. Come on, breathe! Breathe dammit!”

Heath’s eyes rolled back in his head as he violently gasped for air.

“I’m not giving him up,” Nick bawled. “Doc, I need your help, here.”

Dr. Merar opened Heath’s mouth and jammed his finger down his throat. The strangled man gagged and threw up once more.

Nick was emotionally at the end of his tether. Just when he thought Heath had no strength left in him, he launched another assault.

Eyes bulging out, Heath waged war against the enemy within, wrestling with Nick for a good fifteen minutes before the demon shrivelled and released its host.

Heath heaved out the last of him before lapsing into unconsciousness.

Drenched in sweat and physically drained, Nick burst out crying, clenching Heath in his arms.

Dr. Merar checked Heath’s pulse and eyes. He let out of sigh of relief and rested a consoling hand on Nick’s shoulder.

“Nick, your brother’s going to be fine, now. You did it! You got rid of the demon.”

“No, Heath did. Poor kid. May he never go through this kind of martyr again.”

“I’ll go tell Mother and Audra.”

Jarrod left looking for the women who had wandering outside.

“This morphine is harmful, Doc. You saw firsthand what it can do to some innocent soul. How many more will have to suffer before you doctors learn how to use it wisely?”

Dr. Merar bowed his head in shame and quietly left the room.