April 24, 2000

JD gasped when Ricky Marshal brought his arm out from behind his back. The older man had slipped a weapon on over his hand, something that looked like dull spikes welded onto rings that fit around his fingers. JD gulped when he imagined the damage those metal spikes would cause to his face and head.

He grabbed hold of his resolve. Gathering his determination up for one huge attack, JD lowered his head and rushed forward, slamming brutally into Marshal’s stomach. He heard the whoosh as air was forced from the criminal's lungs and grunted when his shoulder impacted with what felt like solid muscle. Digging his heels into the ground, he pushed Marshal back until both of them were shoved against the barn wall.

With a growl of protest, Marshal grabbed JD’s shoulders and pulled the young man up. JD twisted in his grip, desperate to protect his head and face from the evil spiking from the other man’s knuckles. He pulled back, intending to follow through with some damaging punches, but Marshal beat him to it.

A blinding force slammed into his vulnerable gut. JD curled around the intrusion. His back humped and he reached instinctively for what felt like a thick tree limb rammed into his belly. His hands closed around Marshal’s arm and he looked down at himself.

The man’s fist was buried in his gut. Shock made him dizzy. At least he didn’t hit my head. The irrelevant thought floated through his mind. Marshal pulled his fist away and bright pain exploded in JD’s abdomen. He let go of the man’s arm and noticed with detached interest the spikes were red tipped, glistening and wet in the building’s waning light.

He stood on quivering legs and watched helpless as Marshal drew his fist back again. The man swung forward, catching JD in the middle. JD doubled over, gagging with pain when the spikes bit into the flesh of his belly. He supported himself weakly on Marshal’s shoulder, the irony lost to his pain wracked mind. The man pulled back and thrust his spiked fist into JD’s abdomen again. He followed through with the punch and nearly lifted JD off his feet.

JD convulsed with agony and fell to his knees on the dusty floor. He collapsed forward onto his hands, barely managing to support himself. He heard harsh chuckling and Marshal’s shadow passed over him, leaving a chill in his wake. His trembling arms gave way and he fell with a dull thump to his side. He pressed his hands to his hurting, burning gut and was confused with the warm wetness against his palms.

Help me. He wanted to shout, bring someone running, but all the air was rushing from his lungs and breathing in again hurt. He stayed still and prayed while the warmth under his hands spread, leaking out onto the dirty floor.

Voices called to him, shrinking and swelling, confusing him. He tried to turn his head and see who was calling. I’m right here, Buck. It had to be the older man. Buck was always trailing him, warning him of the dangers lurking just behind the next building or the next killer’s gun.

A hot spasm shot through his stomach. JD cried out and curled tighter around his belly. His folded legs pressed his encircled arms firmer against his body and he could swear he felt blood gush out and warm the floor beneath his cheek. But that couldn’t happen, could it? If he were bleeding out that bad he’d be dead, right? Maybe I’m already dead. The thought chilled him and he forced his eyes open. Dull sunlight filtered in through the warped boards of the barn walls and he closed his eyes again in relief.

Sweat beaded warm and wet on his face, coating the skin above his mouth. He licked his lips and tasted salt. He felt weak and utterly vulnerable lying there bleeding on the dirty barn floor. The vivid image of the spikes on Marshal’s hand flashed beneath his eyelids and he grimaced, wondering how many holes had been punctured into his belly.

Coherence shrank around him and swallowed him whole. A jostling movement woke him and he opened his eyes. The glaring spotlight of a lantern hurt his eyes until a shadow moved forward and blocked the blinding brightness away.

"Just lay still, JD. Don’t move."

Buck. The comfort of knowing his friend would take care of him spread relief thick as blood through his chest. He opened his mouth, intending to thank him and would you get me off this damn floor now, but his voice wouldn’t work.

"Roll him to his back. Careful now, not too fast."

Nathan. The added assurance of the healer’s presence helped him relax even more. Pressure against his shoulder pushed him down and he felt himself roll back against the floor. Pulling pain dragged across his belly. He jerked his knees up and curled his shoulders up from the floor, desperate to protect his hurting body.

"Easy, JD."

Chris! The firm control and authority in his leader’s voice helped quell his rising panic. JD breathed deep, choking back his need to scamper away. His chest filled, rising with his breathing and spread the pain thicker through his stomach and sides. He moaned.

"I’ve got a blanket."

Josiah. The preacher’s rumbling baritone canopied the air, creating a feeling of protection for JD. He forced himself to relax his tight muscles and melt against the floor, relying on his friends to help him.

"Let's get him to the clinic. We need to get this bleeding stopped."

"I've got his shoulders."

Vin. The tracker's quiet steadiness anchored him, eased away some of his worry. He felt the man's arms encircle his chest, his body solidly supporting his back. He was lifted from the floor. Shredding pain ripped raw through his body and he cried out.

"Steady, Mr. Dunne."

Ezra. A palm warmed his cheek and he leaned into the comfort. Fluttering eyelids hazily revealed the gambler beside him, uncharacteristic worry marring his forehead.

Arms gathered his legs and gently cradled him close. Someone supported his back, providing leverage when pressure was applied to his hurting abdomen. Darkness shrouded his vision and he closed his eyes, too tired to keep them open.

Time crumbled in on itself. JD opened his eyes. Brightness greeted him and he squinted painfully. Two bleary forms leaned over him. A hand touched his head, sweeping gentle through his hair. Blinking, JD finally focused on his friend's faces. Buck and Nathan smiled down at him.

"Wha--?"

"Don't be movin, JD. I've stitched you up and you'll be fine."

Buck smiled and leaned in closer. Nathan moved over, allowing Buck to sit on the bed next to the young patient. "He's got your belly looking like a patchwork quilt, kid."

Grimacing with the image, JD tucked his chin against his chest and peered down at himself. White bandages wrapped around his torso kept the injuries from view. He pressed his head back into the pillow and said, "Marshal surprised me. I coulda had him if he hadn't pulled a weapon on me." He glanced up just in time to catch the expression of pure hatred on Buck's face. He blinked and the look was gone.

Buck grinned. "Chris and me found the bastard just before he was about to skip town. He's sittin' in the jail, waitin' to be taken back to Eagle Bend. Won't say what shape you left him in, but he'll live long enough to go to trial."

JD lowered his eyebrows in confusion. He opened his mouth to question Buck but the man stood up abruptly and patted his shoulder. "Best be off. You take care, kid. I'll be back later on tonight."

He was gone before JD could protest. Nathan worked quietly, clearing away bowls and dusting stray powders from his workspace. He didn't turn to explain the man's actions so JD just shrugged and held his questions for later.

He closed his eyes. The memory of lying alone and wounded on the barn floor reached out to chill him, but the warm feeling of the others arriving to help him shoved the cold away. He'd ask Buck about Marshal later. Meanwhile, the laudanum in his system drew him down into sleep and he succumbed willingly.

THE END