The mud that pulled at the horses' hooves made it apparent that the torrents Vin had pointed out the previous evening had fallen for most of the night. Ezra was surprised it hadn't shifted course in the night to soak them while they slept.  'Perhaps things are looking up.'

"We best get off and walk."  Vin had already pulled Peso to a stop and was dismounting.  He noticed that Ezra hadn't made a move but was instead staring at him with an incredulous expression.

"Walk?"

Vin shrugged, "You wanna risk Chaucer slippin' and ya'll takin' a ride to the water, go ahead.  Just lemme get ahead ya a little."

Standish knew Vin was right, hell, he had just about come to the same conclusion himself when he had seen Peso's footing falter.  But denial had been so much more comfortable.  The gambler sighed heavily and eased himself from his saddle, noticing that Nathan was already standing beside his own mount.

Ezra rolled his eyes but said nothing as they began guiding their animals along the trail.  The thick mud that had been generated when the rain ran down the slope on their right sucked at Standish's boots and clung to the cuffs of his pants.  'Things are looking up, alright. Up into the gaping maw of Hell.'

"Awww, wait."

Ezra turned to see Nathan standing awkwardly about fifteen feet behind him. The young man's trousers were mud-caked from the knees down and he shook his hands in an attempt to rid them of the muck he had accumulated catching himself from the slip.

Vin looked past Ezra, "Ya'll right?"

Norwich offered a weak smile, "Only managed to wound my pride."

Tanner seemed satisfied with the answer and turned, taking a step forward. Only it was a much larger step than he had anticipated.

His right foot landed solidly enough, it was the ground beneath it that began to slide.  The tracker felt his leg collapse beneath him.  Releasing the hold on his horse's reins Vin reached out in a futile attempt to catch himself, or at the very least, stop himself from sliding.

Ezra had turned to see Peso bolt forward and Vin nowhere in sight.  But a second later the gambler was busy with problems of his own.  The weakened edge that crumbled beneath Tanner was the same one Standish had stopped on.

The southerner's actions mimicked his friend's as he lost the grip he held on Chaucer's lead and tried desperately to grab hold of anything that would halt his sudden slide down the steep grade.  The terrain blurred past and the rain-weakened slope offered no resistance to Ezra's body as fell.

On the ridge, Nathan watched helplessly as his two companions dropped out of sight.  One second they were there, the next - gone.  Their horses had reacted immediately, charging forward to escape the shifting ground beneath their feet.

But as the large animals pushed off, their powerful legs shoved more weight against the already tumbling earth, sending more of the thick soil downward.

Vin tumbled sideways, the loose ground dragging him like a rag doll while he reached for something, anything to help him stop.  But it was none of his own effort that halted his slide.  He struck the large rock with a violent jolt and exhaled sharply as the air was forced from his lungs.

The tracker lay on his side facing down the hill, his stomach against the rock. Nathan saw the second wave of heavy dirt but it was Vin that took the brunt of it. Tanner was struggling to regain his breath when a force from behind slammed him harder against the granite.

Ezra had managed to slow his own decent, coming to rest face down, a few yards parallel with Vin.  The southerner raised his head to get his bearings and caught a glimpse of his friend.  But the sight did nothing to alleviate his unease.

Standish could see Tanner's head, left shoulder, arm and only as far down as the tracker's hip.  Everything else seemed to be buried in dirt.  But the gambler breathed a quiet sigh when he saw his friend pushing with his free hand against the large rock.

Until he noticed the desperation of the movement.

In a second, Ezra realized what he was seeing.  Vin couldn't breathe.  The second wave of dirt pinned Tanner against the stone that had stopped his downward slide and effectively prevented him from taking in a much need breath.

Ezra pushed himself to his hands and knees but cried out as a sharp pain jabbed through his right wrist and up his forearm.  He collapsed back into the mud, curling his injured wrist against his chest before forcing himself to his knees again.

Standish scrambled to where Vin lay.  The tracker's eyes were wide and his face red as he continued to struggle to free himself.  With his left hand, Ezra began clawing frantically at the dirt around his friend's back, trying desperately to push away the dirt wall that prevented Vin from expanding his lungs.

On the trail above them, Nathan watched, unsure of what to do.  He could tell that Ezra was injured and Vin's dire situation was all too apparent. The young man reactively made an attempt to ease his way down the slope but his first step sent another small wave of soil sliding toward the two men.

Ezra sensed it rather than saw it. Looking upward he noticed Norwich attempting to join them, he also noticed yet another chunk of the trail they had just been standing on crumble under the boy's weight.

"NO!  Get back! Away from the edge!"

The young man froze at the gambler's demands.  The last thing Ezra needed was more of the damned hillside to fill in what little progress he was making to free Vin.  The southerner didn't bother to see if Nathan followed his orders.  He had only one thing on his mind.

Vin knew that Ezra was behind him, trying to push aside the wall that held his lungs compressed.  And even as the blackness closed in around his vision, Tanner struggled against it, not wanting to give in without a damn good fight.  But the dark blanket was stronger, finally enveloping the
tracker and releasing him from the intense pressure in his chest.

Ezra turned his attention from the young man on the ridge to the one encased in dirt next to him.  And though he wouldn't have thought it possible, his fear grew.

Vin lay, his left arm now limp, still resting on the rock that he had attempted to use for leverage. His head had slumped forward and long dark hair partially covered his face.  He wasn't moving.

Ezra gritted his teeth and hissed a defiant oath at Nature, "No."  The fear that grabbed at him earlier, fell away, replaced by an intense anger.  Through his desperate clawing Standish had managed to push aside most of the earth caked around his friend's torso.

The southerner bit his lip against the pain that radiated from his right wrist and slid the arm under Vin's body.  He wrapped his other arm under Tanner's free one and secured as firm a hold as he could across his friend's chest.

Shifting from the position on his knees, Ezra dug the heels of his boots into the ground and pulled with every ounce of strength he had.  Suddenly, he felt himself jerk backwards as the packed dirt relinquished its hold on the tracker.

Standish let out a gasp as Vin's limp form landed solidly across the southerner's bruised ribs.  Ezra lay back in the mud, his arms still wrapped around his friend.

He felt it with his left hand first; a wide expansion of the now free chest, followed by two more and then finally the rest of the body stirred.

With a groan, Tanner made a move to roll away from his rescuer, unfortunately, he rolled right.  As he pressed against Ezra's injured wrist Vin felt a searing pain stab at the front of his left thigh.  It would have been hard to gauge whose yell was louder.

Ezra jerked away from Vin, sending the tracker rolling downhill slightly.  Tanner caught himself, his hands digging into the earth as he hissed against the pain in his leg.  They each lay still for a moment, breathing heavily and trying not to focus on their respective discomfort.

A worried voiced called from above, "Are you okay?"

Ezra didn't even attempt to stifle the giggle.  Laying nearly sixty-five feet down an unstable incline, caked in mud, while hundreds of little needles jabbed into the muscles of his right wrist.  Oh, he was in fine condition.

The southerner replied, mustering a feeble, "Delightful," while struggling to sit up.  But as he did he realized why Vin had not offered a reply.

The tracker lay on his side, both hands clutched around the spot of his left thigh where Ezra could see three inches of stick protruding from the soft flesh.

"Dear Lord."

"Yeah," gasped Vin in agreement.

"Don't move."

"Wasn't plannin' on it."

The fabric of Vin's pants had been torn away and blood flowed freely from the tracker's wound.  Ezra looked up the hill to where Nathan stood, the concern evident in his face.  The boy couldn't see exactly what the problem was but he sensed it was serious.

"What's wrong?"

Ezra slid over next to Vin to inspect the damage.  He lay what he hoped would be a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder.  "Since Mr. Tanner's first attempt at suicide failed, he apparently has managed a back-up plan and hopes to bleed to death from the piece of wood that is now imbedded in his leg."

Standish pulled his flask from the inside pocket of his mud-caked indigo coat and unscrewed the top, passing it to his friend before he continued. "Do you have the horses?"

"They're tethered, there's a clump of trees a few yards down trail."

"In my bag there are two shirts, retrieve those and a canteen."

The young man disappeared, returning a few moments later with the requested items.  He again attempted to make his way to where his companions lay but as before, his step downward forced a layer of rain-softened soil toward the two men.

"Stop!"

Vin and Ezra had shouted in unison causing the poor boy to jerk back.  Norwich stepped away from the edge cautiously before wrapping the fine white shirts around Ezra's canteen and tossing it down.

Standish winced as he looked again at Vin's wound; it was filthy and still bled profusely.  The southerner knew that cleaning and bandaging was the most important task, but having the use of only one hand was going to make it difficult.

"I may require your assistance for part of this."

Vin took another long pull from Ezra's flask and attempted a grin. "Shoot, I'm used to doin' it myself.  Don't find too many doctors when you're huntin' buffalo in God's country."

The gambler flushed the wound with water, hoping to rinse away what grime he could and muttered a reply. "And since we've crossed the border into Godforsaken country, I'm sure there's even less of a chance of finding one."

"C'mon, we can't be many miles from Four Corners."

Ezra gave his friend a knowing look, "As I said, Godforsaken country."

Vin shook his head and smiled; taking a long drink he finished off the rest of the Scotch whiskey.  He had been surprised there was any left at all after the way Grey had been pulling from it.

Standish was silent as he used Vin's knife to cut into the fabric of one of his dress shirts.  He passed the cloth to Tanner, trading him for the flask, and tried not to watch as the tracker ripped the expensive shirt into long strips.

Working together, they wrapped the makeshift bandages around the vicious wound and packed the second shirt tight around the small piece of wood, in an attempt to stabilize it. It didn't appear to have gone in more than an inch or two but both of them knew that removing it would only cause more blood flow and increase the already great chance of infection.

Ezra's face held little expression other than concentration and Vin couldn't help but wonder what it would have taken, if anything, to get the 'old' Ezra Standish to have done what he was doing now.

Kneeling in the dirt, in, as he had phrased it, Godforsaken country, unhesitatingly sacrificing fine clothes and finer whiskey for someone whom he most likely would not have been able to look far enough down upon two years earlier.

The southerner did still take every opportunity to remind the men he rode with of their uncouth, uncivilized behavior, but Vin was sure that if it every came down to it, Standish would not hesitate to defend any one of the other six's characters. 'You just keep up that front, friend. Your secret's safe.'

A slight smile turned up one corner of Vin's mouth.  Ezra remained focused on his task but responded, as if reading Tanner's thoughts.

"I will require recompense for this, I assure you."

"Sure, Ezra, whatever."

This time, the gambler did look up. "I am serious."

"Uh-huh."

"These were from New York."

"I'm sure they were."

"Would you please stop that grinnin'."

A young voice from the edge of the trail interrupted them. "Can I do anything?"

Ezra started to answer but Vin cut him off, "Nothin' to do, kid. 'Less you can make the sun dry this hillside faster."

Standish stared at his friend.  "What do mean 'nothin'?  You don't think maybe a rope would be most useful?"

Vin shifted, trying to make himself more comfortable. "Not yet. If we wait a few hours the heat'll dry up a lot of this moisture, and it'll be a lot more stable."

"A few hours??  Oh, I am in hell."

Tanner ignored the gambler and called again to Norwich.  "Hey kid, you think you could make it to Four Corners?"

"Give me some landmarks and point me in the right direction."

Vin smiled at the easterner's willingness.  He offered the boy the best directions he could but felt confident that the young man was capable enough to find the way.  The tracker continued with his instructions.

"Get to the sheriff's office, if nobody's there, check the saloon.  Ask for Larabee, Wilmington or Dunne.  Oh, and have 'em bring a wagon.  Don't think I'm much in the mood for ridin'.  Make sure they bring whiskey, too. And take the horses.  No sense them stayin' out here."

Ezra added a request of his own, "And if you could retrieve Vin's canteen, before you go. And make that two bottles of whiskey."

Norwich stood with his hands on his hips, "Anything else, a steak dinner mabye?"

The two injured men exchanged an amused look and Ezra responded,  "Rare, with caramelized onions."

"Like mine blackened…and red potatoes if they got 'em."

Nathan shook his head and went to retrieve the canteen.  When he tossed down the water his face registered a hint of uncertainty. "You're sure I should leave?"

Ezra laced his voice with as much sarcasm as he could, "Oh, please do. I'm sure, until your return, Mr. Tanner's sage advice will keep us well. Here in the mud. On the side of a cliff."

Vin rolled his eyes, "Hardly a cliff, Ezra."

Nathan didn't wait around for the gambler's retort and disappeared from view.

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