Six men walked off the elevator, laughing and talking. They’d stayed at the coffee shop longer than expected and the growing darkness reminded them how late they were working to make up for lost time. Wilmington was the first to enter the dimly lit room.
“Hey, Pard, coffee’s on!” the ladies man shouted as they entered the office. “Chris!” he called dropping the tray of coffee on the nearest desk and running into the blond’s office.
“Buck, what’s wrong?” Jackson called, but didn’t wait for an explanation as his eyes raked over the items strewn around the desks. “Is he in there?”
“No! Shit! What the hell happened?” the ladies man swore.
“We need to find Mr. Larabee, post haste!” Standish said as a tingling sensation ran down his spine.
“No shit, Ez!” the scoundrel hissed. “Where the hell is Vin?”
“I’m out here, Buck!” the tracker called from the hallway.
“Did you find anything?” Sanchez asked from the doorway.
“No, but...” Vin began.
“I think...” from Ezra.
“He’s...” from JD.
“On...” from Buck.
“The...” from Nathan.
“Roof!” the sentence was finished by Josiah.
Six men raced for the stairwell, knowing they’d be able to beat the elevator up the three flights. Vin was in the lead, Buck right on his heels, the others so close behind they could feel the breath on their necks. The sharpshooter swore as he saw the open door to the roof and knew he had to be cautious. They knew there was something wrong, but also realized it had nothing to do with criminals.
Vin eased out onto the roof, searching the shadows, hoping for a glimpse of the man they most wanted to see. The fact that there were no sirens told him the blond hadn’t jumped, but something drove him to search the edge of the roof. What he saw caused his heart to skip a beat and his voice to die in his throat. He tried to move, but his legs felt leaden as a hand fell on his shoulder. He looked into the worried brown eyes of the medic.
“Wait!”
“What?” the sharpshooter asked through clenched teeth as the others piled out on the roof.
“Don’t startle him!” the medic warned. “Buck, you stay put too!” he snarled as the ladies man tried to move past him.
“What do we do, Mr. Jackson?” Standish asked, listening to Larabee’s mumbling voice at the edge of the roof.
“We need to stay calm and talk him down,” the medic told them.
“Are you thinking this is a flashback?” Sanchez asked.
“Yeah, and he’s gonna need us to remain calm and get him down before he falls,” Jackson explained.
“Alright, Brother, just tell us how we do this,” the ex-preacher whispered.
“We need to get close to him and get him talking to us...make him see that we’re not gonna hurt him. I don’t know what he’s seeing right now or what he’s thinking, but it could be anything. We walk slowly towards the roof and for God’s sake don’t make any threatening moves!”
“Vin, you’d better do the talking,” Wilmington said, knowing if anyone could get through to the blond it was the longhaired Texan standing beside him. He trusted Vin Tanner, and was proving it by handing him the fate of his own long time friend.
“Thanks, Buck,” the sharpshooter said as he stepped closer to his friend.
“Just talk him down!” Dunne said and smiled as the others turned towards him.
Vin moved closer to the edge of the roof, keeping his eyes on the back of his best friend. He swallowed the fear the image gave him and spoke softly.
“Hey, Cowboy.”
Chris stood on the edge, his arms held out straight at his sides, his body swaying with the breeze. The lights from the buildings were too bright and he squinted into the distance. The tiny lights seemed to burst into balls of flame that shot towards him and he smiled at the warmth he imagined he felt from them. He tilted his head to the side as a soft voice called to him.
“So beauti...ful,” the blond sighed as his voice drifted on the breeze.
“What’s beautiful, Chris?” the tracker asked.
“Pret...ty lights...look like fire...works...so pretty.”
“Why don’t you come down from there and we’ll go see the fireworks?” Tanner asked softly.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m gonna fly down there...” the blond laughed and began to lean further out.
Tanner forced himself to remain calm, knowing the others were feeling the same fears he was.
“No, please, Chris, just come down here and talk to me...to us.”
The blond turned slightly and spotted six figures standing in the bright spotlight from the top of the lighted pole on the roof.
“Can’t talk right now.” Larabee hissed, his eyes glazed over, his mouth not quite forming a complete smile. “Gotta trip to make!”
The grin on his face was dreamy, and Vin knew they were dangerously close to losing their friend and leader.
“Chris...Cowboy, listen to me...”
The sandy blond eyebrows drew together and Larabee’s face grew angry. “Thought I was listening to you!” he hissed, turning back to the view below him. “Not gonna listen anymore.”
Tanner became desperate as the others moved forward, closing the distance with the edge of the roof. He knew he had to keep calm and make sure he kept the blond talking. He held up his hands to the others and made a last ditch effort to save his friend.
“Chris, you want some company?”
Larabee turned and looked at the Texan, confusion in his eyes as he spoke. “You can fly too, Vin?”
“Course I can, but I’d like for us to go together.”
“What about the others?”
“They won’t try to stop us.”
“You sure? They look like they will.”
Vin smiled as he spoke, his eyes staying firmly on the man teetering on the brink of a fatal fall.
“You boys won’t try to stop us, will you?” he asked.
“Vin, you sure you know what you’re doing?” Jackson asked worriedly.
“Yeah...yeah, I do, Nate.”
“Okay.” The medic looked towards the blond and smiled thinly. “We won’t do anything, Chris.”
“Neither will the rest of us,” Sanchez assured the blond.
“See, Cowboy, it’s just me and you. Can I come up there with you?”
“Sure...gonna be a wonderful trip, Vin.”
“I think so too, Chris,” the tracker said as he slowly moved forward. He finally stood just below the raised ledge, his fear growing as he caught sight of the bright glassy eyes.
“You coming up, Vin, ain’t got all night!”
“Can you gimme a hand up? Arm’s still not what it should be.”
“Sure,” Larabee said and turned his body completely towards the sharpshooter. His foot caught in the ledge and he felt himself teeter on the edge.
Vin watched as Larabee slowly turned towards him, a scream ripped from his throat as he watched the darkly clad form stagger and begin to fall. He saw the head strike the edge of the brick and he reached for the falling body. His cry of pain and rage was echoed from the five men racing towards him, but he couldn’t take his eyes from the flailing arms of his friend. Lightning fast reflexes grabbed for the lean man and clamped onto his collar.
“Sweet Jesus!” Sanchez hissed as he made it to the ledge.
“Somebody fucking help me!” the tracker cried as he heard the seam on Larabee’s shirt ripping.
“I got him, Vin!” Wilmington said, as he reached over the edge and grabbed the blond by the arm. He saw Sanchez grab the opposite arm and the Texan reach for a firmer grasp.
The three men pulled the limp body over the ledge and eased him down on the rooftop. Blood flowed from a gash above the right eye, just under the hairline. Jackson moved in and began examining the unconscious man.
“Josiah, call for an ambulance! JD go get the first aid kit from the office!” the medic ordered.
“Right away, Nathan,” the kid said as Sanchez began speaking into the phone.
“I need something to stop the...”
“Will this suffice?” Standish asked, holding out an immaculately pressed handkerchief.
“Thanks, Ez,” the medic said as he wiped at the blood flowing down the right side of Larabee’s face.
“Ambulance is on the way, Nathan!” Sanchez said, holding the phone as he continued to give information to the 911 operator.
“Thanks, Josiah,” Jackson said.
“I’ll go make sure the paramedics have a clear path up here,” the gambler said, racing for the stairwell, before anyone could say anything.
“Okay, Ez,” the medic said and looked at the man kneeling on the opposite side of The Firm’s leader. “Vin?”
The sharpshooter was reliving the last few minutes in living color, only instead of grabbing onto the blond’s collar he grabbed thin air. Over and over he watched as Larabee dropped from sight, the only sound his own desperate cry for help.
“Vin!”
“Huh?” Tanner shook his head and finally looked at the medic.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, fear apparent in the two softly spoken words. “How is he?”
“Don’t know,” Jackson answered honestly. “He’s got a nasty head wound, but I can’t find anything else wrong with him.”
“I got it, Nathan,” Dunne said as he hurried across the open roof.
“Thanks, JD,” Jackson said. He grabbed the kit and opened it, grabbing a pressure bandage from the well stocked interior. He opened the sealed package and replaced Standish’ blood covered handkerchief. The skin around the wound was already swollen and discolored. The medic began to worry that there could be more damage than what the naked eye could see.
Time seemed to stand still as the four men watched Jackson do what he could to help the injured man. There was a collective sigh of relief as the conman raced in with two paramedics and a fully loaded stretcher.
“Hi, Frank,” Sanchez greeted the long time paramedic.
“Hello, Josiah,” Frank said, kneeling by the unconscious man. “Ezra said Chris hit his head.”
“That’s right,” Jackson explained.
“Want to tell me how?” he asked as his partner began taking vitals.
“It’s a long story, Frank,” Jackson said. “Let’s just say he struck his head when he fell against the ledge during an LSD flashback.”
“Alright,” Frank agreed, as he examined the patient.
“Has he been awake at all?” Bill, the second paramedic asked.
“No,” Wilmington answered.
“How long ago did this happen?” Frank looked into the injured man’s eyes, noting the reaction of both pupils.
“Approximately fifteen minutes ago,” Jackson answered as Bill started an IV in the blond’s right hand.
Vin watched as the older paramedic placed a cervical collar around Larabee’s neck while Bill finished with the IV. Next they moved him onto a backboard, strapped the injured man on it, and then transferred him to the gurney.
“Alright, we’ll see you guys at Saint Vincents, ” Frank said.
“I’m coming with you!” Tanner said, following the stretcher through the door, the other five men close on his heels.
Vin watched as Larabee was wheeled into an examination room, then he leaned heavily against the wall next to the door. He knew Midland would do everything to make sure Larabee was okay, but the flashback episodes had him worried. There was no way of knowing if they’d come over him again, and this one had scared them all with its possible tragic ending. The tracker knew in his heart Chris Larabee would be fine, but he would need to talk to Susan James about what happened to him.
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