by BVLindaG
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program
"Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and
have been used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.
How many seconds, minutes, hours had passed? How long had
he stood here, hands numb from the crushing grip he had on the steel bars,
forehead burning from where it lay against the hot metal. He could have moved
away, could have backed away from the unrelenting glare and scorching heat
pouring through the window and sought some small relief in the gloomy confines of the hut. The
thought never entered his mind to abandon his self imposed vigil though and
join the rest of the men who were resting on their cots. He had to be here,
knew he wouldn't - couldn't - turn away.
To turn away, even for a moment,
would be to give up and give in and Nick Barkley was not about to give up.
The sweat trickled into his eyes, the saltiness of it
burning and stinging and Nick quickly wiped it away on his grimy sleeve before
squinting up into the pale yellow orb hanging overhead until black spots danced
in front of his eyes. He cursed the endless expanse of blue sky that held not
even a hint of cloud cover and blinked rapidly as he refocused his eyes on the
iron deathtrap sitting a few feet in
front of him. He didn't know what time it was, but figured by the position of
the sun that at least seven hours had passed since the guards had stuffed Heath
in there. The air around the box was shimmering with the heat pouring from its baked surface. It was so close, so
very close, yet for all that, it might as well have been a thousand miles away
as he stood staring at it through the barred window.
'Hang on
... hang on! Just a little while longer. Help is on the way Heath, I know it
is. Jarrod will get here soon, ya just
have to hang on. Don't let Rizley beat you
- beat us. I'll get you out of there ... just hang on!'
He wanted to call
out, to get a response, any sign at all that Heath was still with him. But Rizley had effectively made sure there was no communication between them by
having a guard pound on the side of the iron box with a club every time Nick
called out or Heath tried to answer him. Nick knew his brother was already
suffering enough and as much as he wanted to hear his voice, he couldn't bring
any more torment down upon him.
'It's my
fault this happened, I should have insisted on a receipt. If I had of just done
that, none of this would have happened.' Nick shook his head,
silently berating himself as his thoughts tumbled over each other. 'Heath
says we can't blame ourselves,
that between honest men, their word is their bond and a handshake is enough to
seal a deal. Neither one of us could
have foreseen anything like this. I
know he's right, but if we had just ...'
There hadn't been a sound from the grey hunk of metal
since the sun had reached it's zenith some two hours since. Heath had been
kicking the side of the box every now and then to let Nick know he was still
with him, but even that small assurance had stopped some time ago. Rizley had
deigned to come out of his office when the sun had hovered directly overhead.
He had slowly made his way across the compound with measured steps, hands
firmly clasped behind his back, knowing Nick was tracking his movements. He had
stopped beside the box and turned to speak to the man behind the bars.
"It certainly is hot out here Barkley - I can only
imagine it must be twice as hot in here." He lightly touched the metal
surface and shook his hand at the sting. "A man without water on a day
like this can't last much longer I would think."
Nick gripped the bars tighter, trying with all his
strength to tear them out, to rip them from their moorings. "LET HIM OUT RIZLEY! LET HIM OUT BEFORE
IT'S TOO LATE!"
The black clad figure contemplated the man for a moment,
feeling the anger radiating at him across the yard and he tsked lightly.
"Temper Mr. Barkley. You must control your temper. Your brother didn't
learn his lesson on the whipping post and now must be punished further."
Rizley shook his head and rocked back on his heals, his tone that of a teacher
to a wayward student. "Prisoners must be taught obedience Mr. Barkley and
if they die in the process - well...I believe it to be a good lesson to any
others who dare to question my authority. Don't you agree?"
Nick took a deep breath, trying for control and dropped
his voice to a low growl, a hint of pleading coming through, trying to reason
with the unreasonable. "At least give him some water, he needs
water...please."
"It's, 'Captain Rizley Sir' when you wish to address
me Mr. Barkley. You should know that by now." He gave Nick a twisted sneer
and sauntered back to his hut, knowing he had probably pushed the big man far
enough now to attempt to break his brother out. He entered his office, closed
the door and went to stand in front of the open window where he had a good view
of the entire yard. A hot, humid breeze wafted over his black clad form but not
a bead of sweat broke out. His eyes darted back and forth between the iron box
and the man staring at it from the barred window. He had his men ready and
waiting to shoot the both of them when they reached the fenceline. In his mind, that would effectively be the
end of his problems with those two and things would then be able to return to
normal. No one, not even that lawyer brother of theirs could question the
killing of prisoners trying to escape.
His hands clasped and unclasped behind his back rapidly as
his thoughts raced wildly and the veil of insanity slipped more firmly into
place. 'I am the captain of this ship and as the captain, my orders must be
obeyed. I run a taut ship and any
breach of my authority must be dealt
with quickly and severely otherwise there will be anarchy. I will not allow those two to destroy
everything I've worked for...I cannot lose my ship again!'
Nick had watched Rizley walk away and, as he passed the
prisoners quarters, he willed him to come closer, to come close enough that he
could reach through the bars and take him by the throat. He gripped the bars
tighter and his lips thinned into a hard line as he thought about picking
Rizley up with one hand and squeezing his throat while he begged for air. He
could almost feel his hand tightening slowly around Rizley's neck as the mans
face turned purple, his eyes bulging and tongue hanging out while he dangled
off the ground. Nick's hazel eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the Captain
watching him and his fist closed savagely, clearly hearing the snap of the
scrawny neck.
Rizley stepped away from the window, for some reason
shaken by the look in Barkleys eyes and the small, twisted smile Nick threw him
before he turned back to stare at the box.
The shadows were lengthening as day slowly turned into
night and still Jarrod didn't come. 'It
shouldn't take this long, he should have been here hours ago.' Nick drank the water Billy offered him
and handed the empty cup back to him wordlessly.
'Maybe I
should have listened to Lobo and tried to break Heath out of there.' He knew in his mind that the
idea was tantamount to suicide. They would be shot before they could get more
than a few steps. 'But what if it's too
late? What if he's... ? The big black man's words kept ringing in his ears.
'That's your brother out there and...and
you don't care!'
The sun was staring to fade along with Nick's hopes when
he suddenly jerked upright and strained to hear. Yes! There it was again!
Faint, but he knew he had heard it. No more than an incoherent mumble, but he
now knew for certain Heath was still with him. The scraping of keys in the lock
behind him had him turning around to see Peterson and a couple of other guards
enter the room.
"Captain Rizley wants to see you Barkley."
Nick straightened up and moved towards the door. This was
his chance, his only chance ... Heath's only chance. He couldn't afford to wait for Jarrod any longer, he would offer
Rizley anything...do anything to get his brother out of that iron box...anything.