Part 4

Chris waited for Vin to catch up with him and smiled as he took the canteen. He drank a small amount and passed it back to the tracker. “Thanks, it’s a little dry around here.”

“A little? Hell, Larabee that’s about the biggest understatement I’ve ever heard.” He drank from the canteen as they walked towards the next building.

The jail was much the same as the one in Eagle Bend. The bars were still intact; a set of keys lay on the battered remains of a desk and a set of manacles hung from a hook on the wall. The restaurant was bare except for a few pieces of broken dishes and a big pot with a hole in the center. Again there was evidence that animals had moved in at one point in time, although the place was eerily quiet right now. They’d explored the hotel and the bathhouse, finding an old tub in one of the rooms and a dog-eared book in another. The book hadn’t been there long and both men realized someone else had explored the town in the last few months.

Chris stopped in front of the next building and frowned. He looked at his friend and pointed towards the open door. “I think this place was the town’s newspaper.”

“What makes you say that?” Tanner asked curiously.

“I’m not sure. Just a feeling I got.”

“Why don’t we find out?” the tracker asked and led the way inside.

The sun shone through the windows, illuminating the interior of the building. They explored the first room, finding items that would be worthless today, but would’ve been used to print papers in the early days of Four Corners. The walls were bare, except for graffiti, put there by kids who had nothing better to do.

Chris spotted a shelf which would’ve once held papers and walked towards it. He ran his hands over the intricate designs and swore as a sliver of wood embedded itself in his finger.

Tanner laughed as Larabee pulled the offending item from his finger. He turned back to the desk he was standing by and touched the edge. His finger ran along the bottom of a drawer and felt a small notch. The desk was weather beaten and had definitely seen better days, yet he knew there had to be a drawer in it somewhere. It was very similar to one owned by a family he’d stayed with in his early teens.

Larabee heard a scraping sound and turned towards his friend. He watched Tanner struggle with something under the desk until finally he pulled an object free. “What have you got?” he asked as he joined the younger man.

“It looks like an old strongbox. I found it in a hidden drawer of the desk.” He examined the box and found a latch on one side. He slipped it off and lifted the lid. Inside were clippings from old papers and Vin carefully picked them up. He held them in his hands, amazed at the yellowed paper and the ancient print.

“You missed one, “ Larabee said as he picked up one final piece of paper. The words were barely legible, but he was able to decipher what it said.

Robert Maguire is wanted for the torture deaths of four men. The murders took place near his hometown but went undiscovered until a young couple stumbled over the gruesome scene while riding near Simpson’s Crossing. The victims were identified by belongings found nearby. Ronald Parker, Johnny Mercer, Brian Barnes, and Joseph Carter were positively identified by family members and later shipped to their homes for proper burial. The bodies were scored with knife wounds, lash marks and burns, officials state the men suffered over a period of several days. Officials are unsure if Maguire was acquainted with the four men or if they were victims of a random rage.  However, they report that the men appeared similar in appearance, all being of the same age, height, build, with blond hair and green eyes.  This information was confirmed with the victims’ families, who also knew of no known association between the men or with Maguire. Robert Maguire is considered dangerous and there is a reward for his capture dead or alive.

Chris finished reading the article and looked at his friend. He was shocked to see Tanner’s hands shaking and a worried expression on his face. “What’s wrong, Vin?”

“The victims in that article.”

“What about them?”

“They could be you.”

“What?” Larabee asked incredulously.

“All being of the same age, height, build, with blond hair and green eyes. That’s a pretty apt description of you.” Tanner shook off the anxiety he felt at the thought of what those men had gone through long ago.

“Just the blond hair and green eyes. Come on, Vin, that happened a lot of years ago. Those people are long dead. What else have you got there?”

Tanner spread the clippings over the dirt-strewn desk and the two men read through them. Most had to do with the town and the plans that were being made for it. Chris picked one up and sucked in a deep breath.

“What is it?” Tanner asked.

“It’s about my great, great grandfather.”

“What does it say?”

“Says here that Chris Larabee was rescued from the clutches of a madman, but not before sustaining serious injuries. Vin?”

“What?”

“I think maybe one of your relatives lived here too?”

“What do ya mean?”

Larabee handed the clipping to his friend and saw the shock on his face. One name jumped out at him and he smiled as Tanner looked incredulous.

“How can this be?”

“I don’t know, but I’d say it has to do with what Josiah says is fate or destiny. I wonder if that Chris and Vin had their own Buck, JD, Ezra, Nathan, and Josiah?”

“I’d say they probably did,” Tanner said and stood up. He ran his hand through his hair once more and walked out of the newspaper office. “This is weird, Chris.”

“You’re telling me,” Larabee said as they sat on the edge of a broken step. A frown marred his handsome face as he heard a sound from across the street. He felt Tanner move beside him and stood up. “Someone’s out there,” he said as a shot rang out.

Vin cried out as a bullet tore into his right shoulder. He felt Larabee tense up beside him as a second bullet struck his head, leaving a crimson trail above his right eye.

“Jesus, Vin,” Larabee grabbed Tanner and tried to pull him behind cover when something struck him between the shoulder blades. He reached behind his back and tried to find whatever it was. His hand touched a small dart as he slumped to the ground beside his best friend.

Vin was barely conscious, his eyes mere slits as he watched two figures exit the building across the street. He lay still, unsure whether he could move even if he wanted to. Blinding light and needles of pain lanced through his skull as he tried to turn his head. He knew Larabee had fallen beside him and he didn’t know if his friend was dead or alive.

Maguire and Winston stopped before the two downed men.

“Check Tanner!” Maguire ordered as he pulled the tiny dart from the victim and turned him onto his back. He could see the dazed green eyes looking up at him and he spoke softly. “You’ve been given a very strong sedative to make you easier to handle, Christopher.”

“Tanner’s dead, Robert.”

Chris tried to sit forward, but his body felt stiff and unyielding His mind drifted, yet he knew there was something important he had to do. His right hand snaked out to touch the sharpshooter, but the man standing above him placed a booted heel on top of it. He bit his lip as pain ran the length of his fingers.

“W...who the f...fuck are you?” His voice was slurred and he sounded drunk.

“My name is Robert Maguire, Christopher. You and I will get to know each other really well before I take your life. I will learn your strengths and weaknesses and use them against you. Get him up, Mark, I want to be on our way as soon as possible.”

Larabee stared at the two men as they pulled him to his feet. The sedative had taken complete control and he felt as if he had no strength. He couldn’t think straight, but he glanced over his shoulder at the man lying on the ground. The right side of Tanner’s chest was covered in blood. A stream of crimson fluid ran down his left cheek and Larabee remembered the second man saying Tanner was dead. ‘No!’ he thought as his legs gave out and his two captors dragged him down the center of the street. They stopped in front of the crumbling church and he was dropped to the ground. He turned onto his side and forced his body to obey his commands. He dragged his heavy body back towards the sharpshooter. He lifted his head every once in a while to see how much progress he’d made. ‘One hand in front of the other, Larabee,’ he thought as he struggled to find out the truth about Vin Tanner. He blinked rapidly as he felt the sedative take hold of his mind. A foot landed on his back and his arms gave out.

“B...bastards!” he hissed.

“Going somewhere, Christopher?” Maguire asked as he turned the blond over once more.

“Fu...fucking pr...prick. lemme g...go,” his voice cracked as he licked his dust covered lips.

“Sorry, Christopher, but you and I have a destiny to fulfill that’s long overdue. Get him on the horse, Mark.”

Chris fought weakly as he was lifted off the ground. His fist struck the man’s jaw, but rolled off it without doing any damage. He was thrown over the back of the horse and a rope was tied to his wrists, brought under the horse and attached to his ankles.

“Vin!” he hissed as the horse he was on began to move and consciousness finally left him.

~~~~~~~~~

Vin woke to the sun beating down on him and pain racing through his body. He tried to swallow, but there was no moisture in his mouth. His right arm was useless and his head throbbed as he clenched his eyes tightly. He struggled with the fog enshrouding his mind, but was unable to grasp why he lay on the hard ground in the middle of a broken down town.

He tried to sit up, but cried out as agonizing pain ripped through his skull. “Fuck!” he hissed as he lay back in the dirt. He lifted his left hand and gingerly touched his head. He felt dried blood along his right cheek. He felt above his eye and winced as he came in contact with the gash there.

His left hand dropped to his shoulder and he knew he’d lost a lot of blood, but it had slowed down. ‘What the fuck am I doing out here?’ he thought, his mind swimming in a jumble of disconnected thoughts. He used his left arm and levered up to his knees, crying out as the pain increased and his body trembled. “Where the hell... Chris!” he cried out and tumbled back to the ground as he fought the beckoning darkness. “Ch...Chris!” he called again, but the only sound in the abandoned town was his own wheezy voice and echoes of the past. He forced his eyes open and searched for his missing friend. Snatches of a conversation ran through his mind and mixed with the newspaper clipping Chris had read him. Loss of blood and the near blinding headache made it impossible to think, but he knew there was something he needed to do. His left hand inched towards the pocket of his jeans and he felt the small compact cell phone. His blood slickened fingers slid into the pocket and pulled the cell phone out. He flipped it open, but his eyes wouldn’t cooperate and the tiny digits were impossible to make out. He had to get help for both of them.

“Chris,” he called as his body and mind gave into the need for relief. The cell phone slid from his fingers as his head dropped back to the ground.

~~~~~~~~

Winston pulled the blond from the horse and dropped him to the ground. Whatever was in the sedative Maguire had given the man, was doing its job. Larabee remained lethargic, sometimes moaning as his head struck the body of the horse.

Chris felt the ropes being cut from his hands and needles and pins of feeling flooded into his fingers. He knew whatever this man had given him was making it impossible to think clearly. He cried out as his body hit the ground, sending a shockwave through his left shoulder. His eyes shot open and he struggled to regain control of his own mind, but the heaviness was still there. He tried to remember what happened to put him into this position, but again conscious thought was impossible. He struggled against the set of strong hands that clasped onto his arms and pulled him to a sitting position. His eyes glared daggers at the stranger and he lashed out with his right hand.

Maguire laughed as Larabee’s fist barely touched Winston’s cheek. The sedative he’d given Larabee would keep him controllable for another hour at the most and he felt in his pocket to make sure he had the new drug he would use there. This one would have a totally different effect on the blond, one that would leave him in a world of misery, not knowing what was real and what was a hallucination. “Get him in the car,” he ordered.

Winston dragged the weakly struggling man towards the car and waited for Maguire to open the back door. He shoved Larabee inside and fastened the seatbelt around him. He knew they’d travel on the highway and didn’t want to take the chance of being stopped by the highway patrol.

Maguire slid in beside his victim and watched as Larabee fought to keep his eyes open. “Fighting it won’t help, Christopher. You might as well relax, sleep and enjoy the ride. It’s probably gonna be the last chance you have for a restful sleep.”

His tongue felt thick and too big for his mouth, his head swam as he tried to focus and voice his warring thoughts. “Fu...fucking ba...bastards.” the words were mumbled and slurred. He cried out as an elbow embedded in his side.

“You will not use that language with me.”

Larabee’s eyes clouded over as he glared angrily at the man seated beside him. “Who t...the f...fuck ya t...think y...ya are?”

“I’m your master, Christopher. The man who was meant to teach you what the relationship is between an Alpha male, me and my natural right to lord things over you.”

“Never!” Larabee swore and reached for the handle on his door. He fumbled with the it, his fingers sliding off as the drug continued to hold him in its grasp.

“You’ll know the truth soon enough, Christopher. Don’t bother with the door because you’ll just fall out and force me to give you something to put you out. I assure you I’d rather have you awake and understanding what’s going to happen.”

Chris ignored the taunting voice beside him as his fingers finally closed over the handle. He pulled it back and tried to push the door open.

“Mark, pass me back my case,” Maguire said as the door beside Larabee opened. He watched the blond fumble with the seatbelt and smiled. “Would you like me to help you with that, Christopher?” he asked and pressed the button to release it.

Chris felt the seatbelt release its hold on him and forced his legs to obey his orders. He was rewarded when inch by slow inch he slid them over the edge and climbed out of the car. Every ounce of strength he had went into getting out of the car. He leaned heavily on the door, his legs trembling, his body shaking with the effort it took to stand up. He tried to move away from the car but his legs could not hold him any longer and he fell to the ground. Laughter met his ears as he struggled to crawl away. His mind had finally clamped on the illusive memory he’d been trying to grasp. He saw Vin Tanner’s bloody body lying on the ground in the abandoned town, two words echoed in his mind, over and over as he struggled with the emotions they brought. Tears slid down his cheeks as he heard the words again. ‘Tanner’s dead!’  ‘He can’t be dead,’ Larabee thought as someone grabbed him and turned him onto his back. He blinked his eyes and watched as one of the men knelt beside him. There was something about the eyes that caught and held his attention. He’d read once that sharks had dead, lifeless eyes and this man’s eyes matched that description.

He tried to move away once more, but was stopped as the second man held him down. He fought them, but to no avail. His anger grew as the two men smiled down at him. He could see the man with the dead eyes opening a black case and he lifted his head slightly to see what was inside.

Maguire smiled as Larabee tried to fight the drug. He watched as the dirty blond head lifted slightly off the ground and look at the contents of his case. “Would you like to know what I’m going to do now?”

“Fuck you!” Larabee snarled as he lay back in the dirt, his body refusing to respond to his commands.

“You will learn not to use language like that around me Christopher! I am a man of refined means and I don’t like such vulgarity in my presence!”

“To fuckin’ bad!” Larabee snarled and smiled at the angered look on his captor’s face.

Maguire refused to be bated and turned his gaze on the open case. “Ah, Christopher, my ancestor was way ahead of his time,” Maguire said as he picked up a small vial and syringe. “He gave his Christopher Larabee a derivative from the nightshade plant. It is an amazing drug and could easily kill when given in the wrong dosage, but that will not happen here.” He slid the syringe into the top of the vial and drew the clear liquid into the syringe. “This is atropine, made from the same plant, but you see I have added a few, let's just say alkaloids, to make you a little more uncomfortable. You will suffer from the same symptoms as your ancestor did, but I will be better able to control it. Your mouth will feel dry, you'll be hot, but unable to sweat. Your heart will race like a speeding locomotive, but you will not die.” He grinned as he swabbed an alcohol pad across his victims shoulder and prepared to inject the drug. He signaled for Winston to hold him down and waited until the man was in position. “I'm afraid there'll be some terrifying hallucinations to go with the vomiting and cramping.” he said as he jabbed the needle into Larabee's shoulder. “Just relax and go with it. I'm sure you'll see your dead wife and child while you're under the influence of this cocktail.”

Chris tried to pull away as something sharp pierced his arm. Whatever was in the syringe burned as it was forced into his veins. A strange feeling instantly crept over him, dousing the firestorm that had been brewing since his escape from the car. He felt the hands release him and he rolled onto his left side as painful cramps took up residence in his stomach. He doubled up, trying to curl himself into a ball in order to escape the pain and nausea. His stomach burned and heaved as the contents erupted in a violent stream of noxious fumes. He panted and rolled on the hard ground as wave after wave of nausea washed through his system. He had no idea how long it lasted and didn’t care anymore. He wanted, needed it to stop, but somehow he knew it was only just beginning.

Maguire watched as the cocktail he injected into the blond did its job. It took less than two minutes to have the desired affect and his victim writhed on the ground as he vomited whatever he’d eaten earlier. He lifted his eyes and looked at Winston as the other man watched in abstract horror. Maguire knew what to expect from the drugs, but he hadn’t warned his employee. He smiled as Winston walked away from the scene and heard him retching into the bushes alongside the tiny shack. He waited for his friend to return and closed his case. Larabee was still curled onto his side, trembling, but no longer sick. “I don’t relish the idea of a long drive in the heat with him smelling like that. Take him to the stream and clean him up. Just make sure he doesn’t drown.”

Winston tried in vain to uncurl Larabee’s lean frame, but his body seemed frozen in position. He gave up, grabbed the blond under the arms and dragged him towards the stream forty feet away. He lifted the dead weight and dropped him into the stream.

Chris gasped as he was dropped into the chilly water. His mind raced with terrible images as his body sank beneath the stream. His mouth opened in a scream and water flooded inside.

Winston lifted the blond head above the water and watched as the green eyes opened and a wracking coughed expelled the water from the man’s lungs. He smiled as he dipped the blond under the surface several times.

Chris’s instincts cut through the hallucinations and he held his breath as he sank beneath the cold water. Vivid images flashed threw his mind as he opened his eyes. A great white shark swam towards him, mouth gaping to reveal row after row of sharp white teeth. Vin Tanner’s dead blue eyes stared at him from the face of the shark and he shuddered uncontrollably.

Winston shoved him under again and felt the power he had over the life he held in his grasp. He shoved down further until Larabee struck the rocks on the bottom.

Chris stared in wide-eyed horror as the shark continued towards him. He tried to lift his feet but his body wouldn’t obey as the sharp teeth closed over his legs. He scream as his head broke the surface and was rewarded with more cramps cutting through his stomach.

Maguire watched from the car as Winston dipped the blond below the surface of the  stream. He heard the blood-curdling screams and knew they had nothing to do with the water. Larabee was probably already hallucinating and things would only grow worse for him as the drug flowed through his system. “That’s enough, Mark. Get him out and get dry clothes on him.”

Fifteen minutes later Larabee, now dressed in khaki fatigues, was once again strapped into the back seat of the car. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t with them. His mind continued to fight the blue-eyed shark, his body slowly being sucked into the mouthful of razor sharp canines. He struggled furiously and felt blood seep from his legs as the teeth clamped over them. “NO!” he screamed as the familiar eyes in an unfamiliar setting laughed at his struggles.

Maguire watched the fear filled face as Winston climbed behind the steering wheel. The car started up and they left the little shack and the town of Four Corners behind them.

Soft whispers penetrated his pain filled awakening, driving back the cobwebs, but leaving a hint of confusion. He opened his eyes, only to slam them shut as the dying sun cast the last of her bright rays into his eyes. Shadows formed and lengthened around him, but his eyes were glued to the six figures standing in the middle of the street. Vin’s eyes grew wider as he realized he was seeing the town of Four Corners as it was in the days of the Old West. He blinked rapidly as sweat flowed into his eyes and his vision blurred once more. He could hear soft voices, but couldn’t quite pick out what was being said. Once more he fought the pain and the confusion and forced his eyelids upwards, fighting the gravity that weighed them down. The six figures stood before him and he gasped as he recognized the faces. They belonged to the members of The Firm, but there was something different about them. A man dressed in black walked towards him, speaking softly, yet the words didn’t make sense. There was no doubt in his mind who these men were, but he didn’t understand why he could see them now.

“Ch...Chris...”

“I am Chris Larabee, but not the man you know. You must help him, Vin. Help him before Robert Maguire of your time succeeds in the destiny his great, great grandfather was intent on seeing.”

“H...how can th...this be? You c...can’t be real!”

“We are real, Son, only we are real in the past. Your past, Chris’ past, Nathan, Josiah, JD, Ezra and Buck’s past.” This man was a mirror image of his own Josiah Sanchez and Vin felt his heart beat faster in his chest as the others came forward.

“You need to save him, Vin,” this came from Wilmington.

“We’ll help when we can,” Jackson assured him.

“Watch for us, Vin, we’ll be here when you need us,” Dunne said as he touched Tanner’s chest.

Standish knelt beside him and placed something in his hand. Vin didn’t have the energy to look at it, but he held it tight. “You must call for help, Mr. Tanner. Use your phone.” The voice faded and his eyelids closed once more.

Vin had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, but the sun was quickly sinking below the horizon. His body trembled with the onset of fever and he struggled to grasp the illusive memories of where he was and why he was here. Gunshots...Chris...two men... flashes of pain and fleeting memories of a name. Robert Maguire, who was he and what was he doing here? The newspaper clippings, his eyes grew wide as he remembered the papers in the old building. Papers that mentioned Robert Maguire and yet the man with fiery hair said his name was Robert Maguire. More memories came to him and he looked around the town. He knew what he’d seen was not real and caused by his fevered mind, yet something about the soothing voices and the warning caused him to shiver uncontrollably. He looked at his hand and gasped as he saw the faded card there. He dropped it to the ground as if he’d been scalded. His breath came in hitching gulps as he lay there, unaware of the whispering winds flowing across him. He waited until he got his trembling body under control and reached out to pick up the card. It was old and dog-eared, yet he knew it was the ace of spades and the visit from the past was somehow real. He remembered Standish’ parting words and gasped “Gotta call for help,” he muttered.

'Phone,' he thought as he pushed his protesting body upwards. His breathing became haggard and he coughed, his left arm holding his right as agonizing fire ripped through his upper arm and shoulder. The dry cough subsided enough for him to move in spite of the pain. "H...have to help Ch...Chris," he mumbled as the fingers of his left hand finally closed over the small phone. His vision blurred and he couldn't pick out the numbers. He knew the first button was keyed to Larabee's home line, the second to Wilmington's and the third to Sanchez. Knowing Sanchez would be the best bet to answer he pressed the button and felt for the send. He held the phone to his left ear and listened as the connection was made. He heard the first ring through a haze of pain and tried to take a deep breath. The pain was almost his undoing until a familiar voice broke through it.

"Sanchez."

"Jo...siah, he...help! S...shot! Chris!"

"Vin?" The ex preacher heard the voice, but couldn't quite understand what he was saying. He knew Chris and Vin were checking out Old West ghost towns in New Mexico. The two men weren't due back for another six days, but something told him they'd be seeing Tanner a lot sooner. "What's wrong, Son?"

"Shot. Hu...rrts. Help...Chris...Help!"

"I will, Vin, just slow down a minute. Where are you two?"

"Four Co...Corners. Gh..." Vin's hand dropped to the ground and the phone slipped from nearly useless fingers as he fought to keep his tenuous hold on consciousness. He knew he was going to be sick and groaned as his stomach revolted and what ever was left from the early breakfast emptied on the ground beside him. He licked parched lips and felt his tongue stick to the cracked skin. He knew he needed water, but his first priority was to get help. Something had happened to Chris and he needed to let the others know before it was too late.

"Vin, are you still there? What's happened to you and where's Chris? Vin, pick up the phone!"

He heard the harsh voice and knew he had to obey the command. Once more he forced his fingers to wrap around the phone and bring it to his ear. "H...help...Chris....help. Took...'im."

"We're gonna get you help, Vin. Four Corners, that's the second ghost town you and Chris were going to visit?"

"Chris, hurt, gotta h...help h...him..."

"Where is he?"

"D...don't know....Fu...fuckers t...took him."

"Took him?" Sanchez repeated. "Vin, was Chris kidnapped."

"S...son's a bitches took 'im, Jo...Josiah...Don't..."

The ex-preacher listened to the dry hacking cough from the other end of the line and knew Tanner wouldn't be conscious much longer. "We'll find you, Vin. We'll find you both."

"Get, C...Chris...Shot...hu...rts."

"Chris is shot?"

"N...no, m...me. Shot a...arm....head....can't stay a...awake....h...help..."

"Vin? Come on, Son, stay with me," Sanchez said as he booted up his computer. The silence on the other end of the line was deafening and he reached for the phone on the computer table. He knew he needed to call the others, but first he had to get the police and medivac chopper out to Tanner's location. His worry for the two men grew with each passing minute. He knew from Tanner's voice he was in serious need of medical attention and wondered just what happened to the two friends.

~~~~~~~~~~

Privately owned airstrip outside Albuquerque, New Mexico-2002

Maguire smiled as they loaded Larabee onto the plane. He could tell the blond was still caught in the drug-induced hallucinations. One minute he'd be silent, the next he'd be screaming about sharks and fire. The fire he knew stemmed from the death of Larabee's wife and son, but the sharks were something he knew nothing about. He watched as once again the green eyes opened and a horrifying scream escaped the drugged man’s throat. He was amazed when the long legs drew up close to the lean body as if the imagined creature was actually biting at his extremities. 'This is way better than I ever imagined. You'd be proud of me Grandfather,' he thought.

Winston placed the trembling man in the seat and reached across to do up the seatbelt.

Chris felt the shark at his legs and lashed out as the blue eyes seemed to follow him everywhere. He kicked and struck out with his hands. Smiling in satisfaction as his fist struck something cold. Pain lanced through his body once more as something struck him hard across the face.

Winston was unprepared for the ferocity of the victim's attack and fell back as Larabee's fist struck his jaw. He came up quickly and returned the blow, snapping the head back. Blood flew from the corner of the blond's mouth as his teeth cut in his lip.

Fireworks exploded behind his eyelids as Chris felt pain wash through him. Somehow the vicious blow from Winston caused the hallucination to lose its hold on him. The shark with Vin's eyes disappeared as he forced his own eyes open. He saw the man in front of him and swung at him instinctively. The man easily moved out of the way as Chris’ leaden body slumped forward in the chair. He forced his mind to focus on what needed to be done and reached for the seatbelt once more.

"I'm afraid you'll have to sleep the rest of the way, Christopher. Mark hold him!"

"Yes sir," Winston said and he grabbed the weakly flailing arms.

"NO!" Larabee fought against the restraining hold, pulling up reserves he didn't know he had. He flung the man away and reached for the one seated beside him. His hands found their way around Maguire's neck and he squeezed tightly, smiling in triumph as the brown eyes sparked with fear. He felt his fingers tighten and watched as his knuckles turned white, the fire in his body and the need to avenge Tanner's death gave him the strength he needed.

Winston knew he had to do something. Larabee was quickly squeezing the life from his struggling friend. Maguire's eyes were rolling up in his head, his lips were tinged in blue, yet he couldn't pry Larabee's fingers from the other man's neck. He reached into his shoulder holster and pulled out the gun he carried. He lifted it above his head and brought it down on the back of the blond head.

Chris felt something hit him and gasped as pain exploded in his skull. He felt his fingers loosen slightly, but wasn't ready to give in. He regained his hold, praying he had the strength to kill the man who'd taken the other half of his soul.

Winston gasped as he realized the blond was still choking the life from Maguire. He brought the gun up a second time and brought it crashing down on Larabee's head once more. He was reward with a huff of air and the fingers releasing the older man. He grabbed the now unconscious form and shoved him aside. He reached for his friend and held him tight as he massaged the trembling shoulders. "Robert, are you all right? Come on, breathe. That's it," he sighed in relief as Maguire drew in a deep shuddering breath.

“W...where's Larabee?” Maguire's voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper as he forced the words past his ravaged throat.

“He's right there. I had to hit him twice to make him let go. Are you okay?” he asked with growing concern.

“I’m f...fine. Just get him st...strapped in and l...let’s get out of here.”

Winston turned to the prone form and lifted the unconscious blond into the seat. He secured the seatbelt once more as a soft moan issued from the slack lips. “He’s still not totally out.”

“He will be,” Maguire was back in control and anger shone in his eyes as he reached into the open case. He picked up a new vial and loaded a syringe. “This’ll keep him out for at least six hours. Hold his arm out!”

The pain was almost unbearable as he tried to open his eyes. He lifted his hand and touched the back of his head, wincing as his fingers made contact with a lump there. He frowned as his hand was pulled away from his head and something cold was swiped across his forearm. He opened unfocused eyes as something sharp slid into his vein. He didn’t have time to wonder what was happening as the drug entered his system and he gave into the call of sleep.

Winston watched as Maguire injected the drug into Larabee’s vein and pushed down on the plunger. The green eyes opened for a fraction of a second before his breathing slowed and he slipped into a drug-induced sleep.

“You can let him go now. Christopher Larabee will not be causing any more problems on this flight. Take us to the old woman’s place, Mark.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four Corners 2002

Vin felt someone tugging on his arm and forced his eyes open. he tried to speak, but his throat and mouth were dry. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he fought to focus on whoever was touching him.

“Easy, young fella. Just lie still and let us take care of ya. My name’s Rick and I’m a paramedic. My partner’s name is Mort and he’s just setting up an IV for you,” the medic saw the pain written on the man’s face and grimaced in sympathy as the pale lips tried to move. “You just let us help you, Vin,” he saw the eyes blink rapidly as he shone the light in the blue eyes. “We got a call from a man named Josiah Sanchez. He’s pretty worried about you,” he said as he continued to examine the young man’s injuries. They’d already placed a pressure dressing over the wound in the right shoulder, and on the head wound. He was now checking for signs of a concussion. The dried vomit to the right of the injured man told him he’d already been sick.

Vin forced his tongue past dry, cracked lips and tried to speak. The sounds that came out was more of a croak than words and he tried again. “Ch...ris...”

“Don’t try to talk right now,” Rick explained as he moistened the lips. He watched as his partner finished with the second IV and began running fluids into the patient’s arm. “Get the collar on him. I’ll grab the back board and we’ll get moving.”

“N...no...h...help...Ch...risss...” his voice fizzled and died out as he lost consciousness. Rick placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose in an effort to get more air into the man’s lungs.

Within minutes of his loss of consciousness, Vin Tanner was loaded into the medivac chopper and on his way to the University Hospital Trauma Center, the card still clutched tightly in his hand.

The police officers on the scene continued to search for Chris Larabee, having been informed that he accompanied Tanner to the ghost town. They found the old papers on the desk in one of the buildings and placed them in an evidence bag. They followed three sets of tracks along the main street until they stopped before a building on the edge of town. Here they found signs of two horses and the three sets of tracks. Again they followed the tracks. The two officers knew the area well and both men knew where the old trail led. Several hours later they found the tiny shack and two horse tied there. Further investigation turned up black jeans and shirt, and also uncovered tire tracks leading north and away from the area. The tracks came to an end when they turned onto the paved highway.