Ambush!
February 15, 1874
 

February 15, 1874 The Grey Horse Saloon The saloon is large, the ceiling looming one story above you, a small balcony runs the length of the north wall. On the opposite wall, a mahogany bar spans the length of the saloon; bottles, beer kegs and glasses are mounted upon a shelf behind it. Tables fill the bottom level of this room, a virtual maze which one must traverse through to get to the other side. The saloon is nearly empty in the morning hours, the chairs of the tables still upturned to accomodate a good scrubbing of the floor. The windows high upon the walls are tightly closed and sealed with a dark cloth drape to keep out the chill of winter. On the west wall, a small door leads to places unknown, but you can only assume it is the kitchen where all of the saloon washing is done. A mysterious curtain hangs over an entranceway to the northwest, just under the stairs. The exit out leads back to the saloon porch. Contents: Desmond Cobb Chester Piano (Against Wall) Louey (Behind the Bar) Cobb looks at the lockbox where they used to keep the good stuff until he took a pry bar to it. All gone now, damnit. Leonard comes down from upstairs, really, padding down from the heights. "So, we gonna deal with that preacher?" Enough bloody crosses... One might think that everything Desmond Sneed does has that same languid air marking it. The way he tilts his hat to study the new entrant, the way he raises the glass, slowly, to his lips. The way he inhales the scent of the whiskey before he pulls a sip into his mouth. Chester glances at Kelly, and moves behind the bar. Too many people here. They might want to help eat the food. He gestures at Desmond with the loaf. "He'll find out for us." Knife. Where's a knife? Oh, cheese. And there's Louey's lunch. Very nice. Pete has arrived. Very well. "Do you have a name? Of a woman? Any he prefers? And friends of hers?" Desmond has his own knife. Those coalblack eyes study Cobb and Chester. Pete appears on the balcony. Leonard is part of the gang, really. A short-timer, it seems. Ah. This should be fun. Desmond sees Pete and inclines his head toward Cobb and Chester. "There. That is the man who does the finest job. I hear tell," Desmond smirks, "That -Pete- will cut 'em, kill 'em, /then/ take 'em." At the last, he looks up to mark Pete directly with his soulless gaze. Cobb shrugs. "Never paid much attention. They all talk to each other I'm sure. Make an example of one and I'm sure the others'll tell what they know." Sally saunters over from outside. Sally has arrived. Pete looks a little disheveled as if just from the warm side of a bed. He returns Desmond's gaze without backing down while descending the stairs. "Yes.. You really ought to try it sometime." Chester raises one eyebrow at Desmond and turns his attention back to the business at hand. Hey, pickles... Sally looks around and the smile fades from her face. Somewhat primly, she walks to the bar, not glancing sideways. "Pete..." Desmond again, but the voice has a certain amused chill in it, as if someone pours liquid nitrogen into coals - the hiss of opposite elements. "Perhaps I shall. Since you are up there, would you be so kind, Peter, as to fetch us a 'maid'?" Leonard waves at Louey over the bar. "Gimme a beer, fool." Cobb turns to study Sally as she approaches, wondering what the hell she wants. Perhaps they should start with her. Pete freezes, halfway down the stairs his eyes helplessly casting towards Sally. Gruffly, he responds. "I believe you know where they are, I'm sure as heck not your butler." Or your pimp. Another shadow covers the door. Another lean, wiry man steps within the bar's entrance. His hair is long, like Desmond Sneed's, hanging in Spanish curls, like Desmond Sneed's, but is a pale blond, quite nearly the antithesis of Desmond Sneed's. Still, the same stark, subdued cruelty sits about his lips and features. Long-fingered hands casually unbutton a long duster, and his boots, spurrless, stride in quickly. "Sneed. Heard you were here." Chester puts the knife down and circles around the bar. Let's get _on_ with this. Chester hates getting shot at. "Which one?" Returned to Pete is Desmond, after he swivels a glance toward the newcomer. "No. I'd imagine you'd just teach us your..Technique. I heard down in Abolene..." Cobb growls at Chester. "I don't know. Just grab whichever one is handiest." Pete hisses loudly at Desmond in an effort to silence him. He finishes his descent down the stairs moving to help himself to a bottle of Whiskey. Louey has long since given up on telling him to get out from behind the bar. Sally edges to the far end of the bar and tries to get Louie's attention. Leonard takes his beer and drinks. "Wasn't Cletus messing with somebody that night? We ought to get _her_." Snakeye Joe, the bleach blond, strides further in and aims his glance, too, at Pete. "That's him, Desmond?" To which the darker man nods. "Good to see you, Snake." That's a case of the pot calling the kettle black... Louey's attention she may have wanted, but it is Pete who approaches her. He lowers his voice a little, his tone angry "What are you doing in here?" Oh. So this one is Pete's is it? Desmond turns a study on Sally, a quirk of a smile twisting his lips, and hellsfire glinting in his black eyes. He, too, approaches Sally. Snakeye Joe is on his heel. Sally looks up at Pete. "I... I..." she falters. " I'm in the habit of a nip afore..." she gives up, and looks past him to the others, her heart sinking. Chester nods. He makes his way up the stairs, and chooses one of those that tried to make him Talk, the first night. Pulling her unceremoniously toward the stairs, and down. Like a package. Noting with pleasure that the situation seems to have quieted her down. Halfway there, though, he notes that Desmond seems to have found his own target. The young woman may seem quiet but it is more likely she is frightened to death by the ashen color of her skin. She offers Chester little struggle, unsure of his intentions. Sally swallows hard and takes a step back, raising a slim hand. "Now, boys..." Leonard hehs. "Yeah, a party! I'll bet she knows something! I'll bet they both do!" More beer. Pete can sense Desmond approaching but does not turn to look at him, instead he leans closer to Sally, "Afore what? For christ's sake? Haven't you stocked that hotel of yours." With a loud sigh he tries to make it around the bar to her but Desmond will surely reach her first. Cobb watches things unfold, drinking his whiskey. He doesn't much care which of the women is used so long as they find out where the Preacher is hiding out. Chester keeps a firm grip on the girl's arm, but pulls her no further. She can be Backup. In case Sally fails to be helpful. Desmond's step is quick and sure, and his hand snakes out to catch Sally's arm. He spares only a split second to shoot a look at Pete, with a quiet murmur, perhaps only the three of them can hear: "You want to do her, Pete, or shall I?" Sally looks up at Desmond and gives a squeek. She fumbles in her purse, trying to get something from the bottom. Somthing heavy. Pete stops a good five feet from the two, his hand instinctively moving to his gun belt. "The way you did Cally?" The question hangs in the air, disgust and accusation. "Let her go." Chester glances at Desmond. The little quiet one? He did that? Some slight disapproval in his expression. Slivery glitter, razor thin comes a knife from...Somewhere about Desmond's person, lifted to touch lightly the skin on Sally's throat. "Drop, my sweet, whatever you have in your bag. And your bag. You will die too quickly, if I am forced to slice your hands from your arms. Useless, then." Back to Pete goes Desmond's quirky little smile. "Cally? Not I, Pete. You want to do this one, or shall I?" Leonard watches, sipping beer, amused. Pete regards Desmond without looking at Sally for a long time. Too long a time. Suddenly he shrugs turning his back on the two and taking a stance by the bar. "Do what you want, she means nothing to me. " And he certainly sounds like he means it, "I'm in no mood to get caught with my pants down if the rumours I've been hearing are true." "Ack!" say Sally, and she sporeads her hands, her bag hitting the floor with a thump. A deck of cards falls out, still sealed, a comb, a small mirror, and a pearl handled derringer. Polished snakeskin (how appropriate) boot of Snakeye Joe comes forward, stepping on the derringer, before that tall man can scoop it up with a wink at Sally. "You won't," he states predictably, "Be needing that any more, luv." And Desmond? He steps a bit closer to Sally, letting her feel the lean musculature along his whippet-taut frame. His voice falls low, silky, perhaps like a lover's: "Tell me, then, what you know of the preacher Lassiter." Shaking now with terror as she watches Desmond and Sally, the woman in Chester's clutches burst out in a cry. Chester winces at the noise, glancing at the woman. He shakes her arm sharply, with a growl. "_Quiet_." Sobbing loudly, the girl chokes to a muffled gasp now and then at Cherter's violent shake. Seamus strides over from the door in the back of the saloon. Seamus has arrived. Snakeye turns a wistful look at Chester's girl. "Havin' trouble with her, lad?" "Who?" Sally manages, her voice a high squeek. She's gasping for breathe, trying not to whimper as the blade cuts her throat when it moves. "I'm new.... don't know... please!!." Chester nods to Snakeye. She's noisy. "You want her?" Desmond's other arm slides around Sally's waist, intimate, to keep her from bolting to where his body doesn't block, and the knife lightens, the tip only pressing along the shadowed line of Sally's throat, to a point between her cleavage. Where he looks, briefly. "Nice. You want to stay that way?" And truely, the expression on Desmond's features is almost earnest. Except for the knife, for the woman's expression of fear, this would seem an enchanting moonlit romance. Seamus comes in from the kitchen looking right at home as if he has always belonged. He watches Desmond with interest. Tilting his head, Snakeye heads over to Chester. "Maybe she needs something in her mouth, to hush her up." Chester shrugs, and tries to push the girl toward Snakeye. She's all his. Moving in slow baby steps as if she wants to get away from Chester but doesn't feel a whole lot safer with Snakeye, the girl all but freezes to the floor as if nailed there. Why is Snakeye Joe called Snakeye Joe, one might ask? Just /what/ -part- is considered...The Snakeye? "Yep. Something in her mouth." Sally can only manage little whimpers as she looks at Desmond in horror. She's played rough games with drunks and sharks, and not every man has been nice with her, but there's something about the way Desmond seems so normal that scares her silly. Chester is much safer than Snakeye. Usually. He doesn't like screaming women. He shoves, and steps away. She's all his. Cobb sips his whiskey, turning back to the bar with a grimace of distaste. Its necessary and he did suggest it but that doesn't mean he likes watching it. Betrayed, the woman makes to bolt from the approaching Snakeye, hoping to out a table between them. "I Kn-n-now Wh-wh-where he is." Cobb looks over his shoulder at the whore. Knew one of them would know something. Just a matter of the proper motivation. Snakeye pulls a gun and levels it on The Other Woman, nodding. "Well now. Where is he, then?" Note: Snakeye has no bloody clue what The Other Woman (TOW) is talking about. Cobb puts down his whiskey, turning so he can look at the woman more carefully. Yes. Where is the man who killed his son? Yes. Absolutely normal, Sally. Except... Well, you're moving a lot. But that's OK. "This man. Lassiter. Where is he? Do you know?" Know. You'll live longer, Sally. (Desmond) Little gasps of terror emit from this woman as Snakeye draws the gun and levels it towards her. Over and over like a broken phonograph till she manages to include a hasty answer between sobs. "He is at the Trading Post, I swear!" Chester ignores the Human Drama. He walks behind the bar to cut himself a nice piece of that cheese. Could be a hungry ride. Cobb growls "Trading post? Where is it?" "W-w-w-est." The young girl tries again, "W-west of town." Seamus slips out of the room as unnoticed when he came in. Seamus strolls off towards the porch. Seamus has left. Sally shakes her head, staring at Desmond like a mouse cornered by a cat. She shakes her head more vigorously, hair flying, and points to the babbling girl. (Her! Her! Forget me! Please!) Cobb nods. "You know if you're lying we'll be back and things will...go very unpleasantly for you." She'll wish all she had to worry about was Desmond carving her up. The girl cowers behind the safety of the table, "I'm not lying. I swear by the lord." Now would be a bad time to admit she is atheist. Desmond traces the tip of the knife down Sally's skin. This time the pressure should draw blood. And the he lifts the knife from the front of her chest to lay lightly against the base of her spine, below her hair on her neck, while he leans forward. To lick the blood off her chest. Then he smiles at Sally, abruptly stepping back and releasing her in the same motion. "Very well. I will see you later, I trust?" Charm of a serpant. Pete watches Desmond in the mirror. He has been the entire time, ready to act if need be. He looks away once he releases the girl, willing her to find a way out of the saloon. Sally bites her knuckles and closes her eyes. Tight. Tighter. Don't scream. DON'T scream. She hopes Desmond goes away. Far away. She needs a bigger gun. She needs to do laundry. Maybe the Sheriff will come back. Maybe her Papa will come back.... Desmond reaches to tap Sally on the forehead with the knife upon whose tip beads her blood. "Now now. You should always watch, for your own death." With that, the big man spins and sketches a half-bow to Pete. "I wouldn't hurt yours. Much. But...She tastes good, Petey. I approve." The girl waits, her eyes shut now afraid to open them and see Snakeye still holding that gun to her. She murmurs unintelligables under her breath and waits. Snakeye will follow Desmond's lead, and he tips the gun up to (stereotypically), push his hat out of his eyes. "Thankee, Ma'am." To the others, he waves that gun. "So. Who we going to hang?" Leonard smiles at Desmond. The man's got style. Chester packs a little bread in this pocket, a little cheese in the other. Workmanlike. Prepared. He might whistle, if he could carry a tune. Cobb snarls. "Don't aim to hang Daniel. Just shoot him and get it over with." Hangin' takes too much damn time. Pete's jaw works but he doesn't speak, to either deny or confirm that he has 'claimed' Sally for his own. Or that she is tasty for that matter. Angered now, thoughts of Cally and Desmond's supposed denial driving him, Pete shoves off from the bar. "Then let's go get the man." Sally finds the edge of a table, and follows it around to a chair, where she slumps down before she falls. "Shaken" does not describe it. "Shattered" is closer. Chester collects his coat. Hat. No need to forget the amenities. Keeping a quiet eye on Desmond. Cobb heads upstairs and returns momentarily with his Henry rifle, inserting cartridges into the magazine, muttering, "'Bout damn time. 'Bout damn time." Desmond's coat swirls around his legs as he turns and heads back toward his whiskey, with the air of a man having completed a job well done. Exemplary. Pete is keeping an eye on Desmond as well, but the scorn in it wouldn't be described as quiet. He restrains himself from offering any comfort to Sally, we are all wounded souls in this hell hole of a life. Unless of course you have the honor of playing the Devil himself. Another glance at Desmond. Leonard springs upstairs, to fetch his own rifle. Okay, so it's not a repeater. We can't all be perfect. Seeing an opening the girl races towards the kitchen door of the saloon, hoping to warn the others that they are coming. Sally pulls a hankie from her sleeve, and dabs at the beads of blood above her breast. The blodd is dark, the skin very, very white. She sniffles, and looks longingly at the bar. After them. Or before. It matters now, but Snakeye Joe is on Desmond's heel, after blowing a kiss to the departing other female. Desmond strides off towards the porch. Desmond has left. Cobb sneers as the girl runs. Yes, warn the Preacher for all the good it'll do him. Death is coming to call. Cobb saunters off towards the porch. Cobb has left. Pete strolls off towards the porch. Pete has left. Chester follows. Quiet, and keeping in sight of Pete. Chester saunters off towards the porch. Chester has left. Saloon Porch From this spacious porch that wraps around the entrance of the saloon, you can see and hear just about all the happenings in town. The crisp winter dawn returns without a sign of cloud in the sky. Many chairs are scattered about the porch, for those who like to sit and watch the square. In the heavens above, stars fade into the glare of morning as light fills the chilly winter skies. Contents: Chester Pete Cobb Desmond Pete pulls his gun from the holster and checks the rounds. Leonard comes out, with his rifle up over his shoulder, grinning. He likes shooting, really he does. "West, huh? Let's do it." Not a man of too many words, is Leonard... Chester just waits for Pete to lead. He does that, at times like this. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Desmond's black steed is near the fencepost, as usual not tied, but not leaving. He steps toward the huge animal, recieving a nicker in reply. The white blaze dripping down the gelding's nose is not inked out; apparently Desmond arrived into town in peace, today. Pete strolls off towards the northern street. Pete has left. In the road to the north, Pete hurries over from the saloon porch. Chester walks off towards the northern street. Chester has left. In the road to the north, Chester saunters over from the saloon porch. From the road to the north, Pete descends from the porch to his own horse, not a pretty black stallion like Diablo's there. Just a plain Chestnut with the look of a hard ridden but sturdy mount. He cinches the girth tight then mounts. Desmond hurries off towards the northern street. Desmond has left. From the road to the north, Desmond strides over from the saloon porch. Cobb walks off towards the northern street. Cobb has left. In the road to the north, Cobb saunters over from the saloon porch. Beyond the porch railing to the north, Desmond pulls himself on and nods to Pete, perhaps only that man catching the jeer in Desmond's hiss, "Then you lead this one, Peter?" From the road to the north, Cobb heads for his own horse. Ain't pretty but it'll get you there. Maddock Square The center of Maddock opens into a wide dusty square, all the main commerce buildings accessible from it. The Golden Star Hotel building looms over the northwest section of the square, casting the area into shadows in the late afternoon hours. Along the southwest side of the square, a large porch encompasses the entrance to the Grey Horse Saloon, where many flock to watch the bustling activity of the square. A chill winter morning dawns under a clear and pleasant sky. The roads branch off in four directions, continuing in a north-south and east-west direction from the square. Above the darkened horizon, a mass of stars sorts itself out into constellations. The lights fade into the glare of morning as light fills the chilly winter skies. Leonard swings onto his own Generic Bad-Guy Horse, model of 1872. So he's not up to date. Snakeye Joe? He walks. Chester mounts one of the nicer examples from the town stables. He hasn't bothered to name it. Pete levels his gaze on Desmond then nods once, giving his horse a cautious kick. Bad guys who go barrel riding into a situation usually ain't bad guys for long. Pete moves off towards the western part of town. Pete has left. From the west side of town, Pete strolls over from the middle of town. Chester walks off towards the western part of town. Chester has left. From the west side of town, Chester strolls over from the middle of town. West Maddock A street leading from the center of town and into the main residential part of Maddock. Along this street lie the lean-to shanties that were built by the original settlers and the two story cottages that the more affluent residents can afford. There are some poplar trees spaced along the roadway. Quiet winter morning dawns without a sign of cloud in the sky. To the southeast, you can see an alley leading behind the saloon. To the south, a fence separates Mr. Garrett's corral from the street. Further west, the road leads completely out of town and into the Indian territory. In the center of town, Desmond is last. Last last last last. His mount steps slow, as languidly as his rider. Snakeeye just keeps pace. In the center of town, Desmond strides off towards the western part of town. Desmond walks over from the middle of town. Desmond has arrived. In the center of town, Cobb moves off towards the western part of town. Cobb strolls over from the middle of town. Cobb has arrived. Leonard ambles along on his horse. Bum ba dee da bum ba dee dah... [And, while all this has been happening.....] West Maddock A street leading from the center of town and into the main residential part of Maddock. Along this street lie the lean-to shanties that were built by the original settlers and the two story cottages that the more affluent residents can afford. There are some poplar trees spaced along the roadway. The cold winter dawn awakens neath a sky unencumbered by cloud. To the southeast, you can see an alley leading behind the saloon. To the south, a fence separates Mr. Garrett's corral from the street. Further west, the road leads completely out of town and into the Indian territory. Contents: Garrett Janson Marron Marron suddenly turns back and looks at the people behind him. "Does one of you have a gun I can borrow?" he asks quietly. Maggie comes out from the Randolph home. Maggie has arrived. Garrett smiles at Marron. "Do you know how to use a gun?" Maggie catches that fragment, and blinks at Marron, then looks back to Evan. Suddenly purposeful, and even more serious. Garrett looks more amused than concerned. Evan comes out of his house, with a large, long pack slung over one shoulder. "This is it, folks. Get everything together. We need to get to the trading post. I've got to go get someone." He's _all_ business. Marron is no longer smiling. "Yes. Yes I do." He glances back toward the square quickly. Janson looks about for a while more... Then he remembers something. "I'll be there shortly!" Janson moves off towards the center of town. Janson has left. In the center of town, Janson strides over from the west side of town. In the center of town, Janson moves off towards the east side of Maddock. Garrett frowns, his countenance growing instantly serious. He quickly reaches behind him into his long jacket and retrieves a revolver. It's a large Smith and Wesson. "Here you go, Mark. With it, or on it." In the center of town, Janson saunters over from the east. In the center of town, Janson strolls off towards the western part of town. Janson saunters over from the middle of town. Janson has arrived. Maggie stays close on Evan's heels, walking quickly. Intending to stay with him. Marron's eyes widen slightly as he recognizes the quote. he swallows and holds his hand out for the gun. "Yes, sir." Evan issues quick orders. "Get some horses together. I'll be back in a couple of mintes. We need to be there waiting for them." And he sets off for the square. Garrett looks over at Evan. "All right, Evan..." He cocks a brow. "Let's see what you got?" Janson comes striding, carrying an oblong canvas pack, about 4' long. Garrett hands the gun to Marron. Evan hands the pack over to Garrett. It's some of everything. A couple of rifles, a couple of shotguns, a few pistols, and enough ammunition. He's got his own carbine in hand. Maddock Square The center of Maddock opens into a wide dusty square, all the main commerce buildings accessible from it. The Golden Star Hotel building looms over the northwest section of the square, casting the area into shadows in the late afternoon hours. Along the southwest side of the square, a large porch encompasses the entrance to the Grey Horse Saloon, where many flock to watch the bustling activity of the square. The still winter dawn lightens beneath the clear arch of the sky. The roads branch off in four directions, continuing in a north-south and east-west direction from the square. In the black sky, the stars fade into the glare of morning as light fills the chilly winter skies. Contents: Visser Evan points at Visser. "Deputy!" From the west side of town, Maggie moves off towards the center of town. Maggie walks over from the west side of town. Maggie has arrived. From the west side of town, Janson comes closer in long strides. "Any 50-calibers in there?" Visser stops. Yes, that's him. And that's...yes, he knows him. "Yes, sir?" From the west side of town, Garrett nods and hands the pack back to Evan. "Looks like you're all set." From the west side of town, Marron takes the gun carefully and stares down at it. "Revolver," he murmurs softly, as if trying to remember a lesson. "Single-action...44." He nods and follows the others. From the west side of town, Garrett tips his hat to those present. "If you'll excuse me for a moment..." From the west side of town, Garrett heads into his house, just south of the street. From the west side of town, Janson catches up. He slows to the speed of the rest of the group. Evan is all business. Used to be a cavalry officer, years ago. "We're going to set up an ambush for the outlaws, out by the trading post. Now's the time, so.... come along. There's no time." From the west side of town, Garrett appears again, on the other side of the corral fence from the street, he then leads two horses out the corral gate and out onto the street. From the west side of town, Marron is making his way as quickly as he can, trying not to slip on the snow. From the west side of town, Marron heads towards the center of town. Marron comes over from the west side of town. Marron has arrived. From the west side of town, Janson is walking in stomps. That way, his boots, made for walking, not riding, crunch the snow into a rough surface. He's seen snow before, and more of it. Visser nods. No questions, no. "Yes, sir." Automatic. Horse. He'll be right there. Evan waves Visser along. "Move." And he heads for the mayor's office, of all places. Visser moves, running for the stable. Mayor's Office A small but pleasant office with foyer. There is a single chair sitting behind a writing table with 'T. Thompson' on it off to one side of the room. A solid oak desk faces you in the back of the room, separated by a pair of chairs. A new nameplate clearly indicating 'Mayor J. L. MacClaine' sits on this desk. Contents: Madeline Evan comes in in a rush, suited up for winter, and with a carbine in his hand. "Madeline?" All business. Madeline was tucking a piece of paper back into Jaime's ledger, so she startles a little, then blinks several times. "Evan?" Winter coat. Carbine. Oh. Her expression sombers, immediately. "You're going.." Evan nods. "Yes. It's time. You said you wanted to come along..." No time to waste.... Madeline nods, and smooths her hands against the bodice of her dress, absently. "I'll just.. Jaime's coat is upstairs. Joshua's sleeping.. he'll sleep awhile." Evan swallows. "I'm going for my horse..... should I get yours?" She's welcome to ride along, of course, but... Madeline nods, pausing at the bottom of the steps. "Silverlock. He's the big black, with the gray lock in his mane?" No doubt you've seen him. "Where should I meet you?" Evan nods. Right, the big boy. Easier to emit them, really.... "I'l come by here when I'm done. If you could watch for me...?" Madeline nods. "I won't be a moment, and I'll watch." She hesitates, then adds, "Be careful, Evan." Evan snaps off a quick salute, of all things. "I will. See you soon." And he steps out, with all due speed. Maddock Square Contents: Seagraves From the west side of town, Marron nods slowly. "I'm sure you have." From the west side of town, Janson was using it metaphorically. Considering his expression, he saw combat before, and never once liked it. But a Man's gotta do what a Man's gotta do... From the west side of town, Garrett smirks, and just for a moment wishes he could have seen what happened in the Saloon. But just for a moment. Evan dashes out from the Mayor's Office, headed for the saloon, carbine in one hand. Short;y, he returns with two horses. A bay, and a big black, both saddled and ready. From the west side of town, Marron is intent on Seamus now, no longer watching Maggie, Garrett or anyone else. "So are you going with them or not?" he asks directly. From the west side of town, Garrett raises his brows at Marron. The little guy's got some guts, that's for sure. Seagraves thinks about all the things he sees. For a very short while. He decides... the grocery run can be done *later*. From the west side of town, Janson shoots a glance at Marron. Then at Seamus. He smiles slightly. Seagraves moves off towards the east side of Maddock. Seagraves has left. From the east side of town, Seagraves moves over from the west. From the west side of town, Jim is leading his horse, he must have expected this, or he was planning on going out on his own. "What are you planning?" he says to Garrett. From the east side of town, Seagraves strolls off towards the boarding house. Madeline has arrived. From the west side of town, Garrett looks over at Jim. "Planning on trying to keep from getting killed. Other than that, talk to Evan. This is his party." Evan has Madeline's horse, all ready. He swings down from his own, to offer her a hand. "Here we are...." Urgently. From the west side of town, Garrett continues under his breath. "...I'm just opening the door for people." From the west side of town, Janson is still horseless. "What are the horses for?" From the west side of town, Seamus shakes his head, "There is nothing more I could do to help, its time to let the players play out their role." From the west side of town, Garrett hands the reins of the dappled grey horse over towards Janson. "We use them to appear larger and more powerful than our opponents. It's also easier to fire down on someone than up." From the west side of town, Janson takes the roan's reins. "Hm. Alright, I'm with you." Madeline is a lady when it suits her. Now, she's not a lady, bundled in Jaime's coat, as she hikes her skirt enough to step up and then swing up into Silverlock's saddle. Once she's mounted, she tugs her pretty little pistol from a pocket, checks it over, and tucks it away again. A nod to Evan signals that she's ready. Silverlock snorts, plumes of steam rolling away from him. He knows something's up. From the west side of town, Janson swings into the saddle. From the west side of town, Marron crosses his arms and lowers his voice to a whisper. From the west side of town, Maggie says flatly, "To get there. It's a piece, there." Mounting Gwen, and checking the rifle's secured. Benington's rifle. She looks to Marron, to see if he still wants a ride. Evan swings up into his saddle, practiced. He's spent a lot of time in the saddle. All business. "Let's do it." He leads, to the west West Maddock Contents: Seamus Janson Jim Marron Maggie Visser Garrett In the center of town, Madeline saunters off towards the western part of town. Madeline strolls over from the middle of town. Madeline has arrived. Garrett picks up Evan's pack and hands it over. "We're going to get bloody on this one, Randolph." Visser mounts. His face as he looks at the two women is beyond disapproving. Evan nods. "Don't we always?" A quick look at the ladies, praying it's not them who get bloody. It'd be his fault, and he'd have to answer for it... Don't discount the women, Visser. Maggie and Maddie are not your average stay at home and scrape the stove frontier women. Garrett looks over at Evan, brows furrowed. "No... At least not always..." Jim follows suit, pulling himself into his saddle. Evan frowns. "Then let's hope not this time. Of all times, not this time." A quick look around. This is everyone? "Let's move." Janson sits in his saddle, eyeing the situation. "If we must die, then so be it. We can't let them have their way!" The Ladies should be safe at home, rolling bandages. Visser shakes his head slightly has he urges his horse slowly forward. Maggie looks at Marron, questioningly. Evan's brows lower, and his eyes widen. Those who have seen it before recognize the Glare. He moves, spurring his horse hard. West Of Maddock This area of plains to the west of Maddock bridges the town with the underbrush to the west. The roadway gradually begins to incline as it weaves up into the mountainside towards the mines. A chill winter dawn awakens under a clear and pleasant sky. A sad lady stares from her lonely cliff of starlight overhead. Other stars fade into the glare of morning as light fills the chilly winter skies. Contents: Lassiter Visser has arrived. Garrett has arrived. Maggie has arrived. Madeline has arrived. Jim has arrived. Seamus has arrived. Evan looks around and nods. This will have to do. "Spread out. Let's get the bastards." And let's take some cover, okay? Marron has arrived. Seamus is on foot, so he trails along behind the others at a slow pace, Marron not far behind him. Janson has arrived. Maggie looks around, biting her lip. Gwen's not a cavalry horse. Gwen's not going to like the guns. Maggie rides her well beyond the trading post, dismount, and spends a few moments securing her to a tree. She collects the rifle, holding it with not quite enough familiarity to make her entirely reassuring, and swallows. Hide. Somewhere. Lassiter steps out of concealment, seeming to appear out of the snow almost as if by magic. He didn't intend to get trapped in the trading post if the bad guys showed early. He nods to the arriving townspeople, a rifle cradled in his arms. While the others spread out for cover, Seamus takes a long slow look at the potentail cover and decides to hang back, closer to town. Good watching distance without actually having to get involved. Evan kicks his worse, with a quick wave to Lassiter. Off to one side, untying his big Pack o' Guns along the way... "Who needs something?" There's a shotgun here for Madeline, as she requested... Janson unwraps the pack on horseback. It unveils a rifle, about .50, with a winchester-style loading mechanism. He works the lever, then settles it across his lap, safety on. Then he looks for cover. Visser shakes his head, and walks toward Evan. Garrett dismounts and walks up next to Lassiter. "I'm afraid I was never the sniper..." He looks around. Yup. Just gonna have to get into the middle of it... *sigh* Lassiter nods to Garrett. "Sometimes roles are thrust upon us whether we want them or not." Madeline finds a suitable tree to secure Silverlock to, and ties him there, sliding from the saddle. She gives him a pat, and murmurs a few words to him, and watches Evan with all the guns. She'll wait her turn for a shotgun. Rushing things only causes accidents. Janson is the kind of guy who can turn a 15 lb rifle as easily as he turns a colt revolver. So he dismounts as well, and walks to Garrett and Lassiter, rifle in hand. Garrett nods. "Yeah... But I was the talker..." He keeps looking around. Marron can only go so fast on foot, so he is even closer to town. But he is watching Seamus, not the combat. His hand slips into his coat pocket and he fingers the borrowed gun. The words Garrett said when he gave the weapon to him come back to mind and swallows. Evan pulls the pack off Copenhagen and unrolls it on the snow. Some of everything. He's not rushing, but he's quick. Even so, he goes to the trouble of taking Madeline a double shotgun and a box of shells. "Here you go...." Maggie keeps herself to the side, near the brush, watching the crowd around Evan's guns. What have you _done_, Maggie? Seamus has disappeared into the shadows and snow near the buildings at the edge of town. Apparantly, not about to assist. Marron can most likely see him there. Lassiter shrugs. He turns to watch the others, pointing out good areas of concealment that he's noted. Jim scans the area looking for a good spot to hide. He's not sure about this. Moving out a ways he studies the ground, for signs of movement, then with a shake of his head he pulls on the reins and trots her back over toward Evan as well. He hops down. He keeps scanning the horizon as he holds his horses reins in one hands. Janson keeps a little to the side, and finds a good niche to stand in. His business is surprise shots out of nowhere. Visser walks a little away, checking his weapon and keeping an eye on the women. In the distance, the bells of the reformed church ring loudly to designate the hour. Garrett leads Exeter out of the clearing and lays the reins over a shrub some yards away. He returns to Lassiter's vicinity and just hopes he doesn't get totally whomped. Evan hands off the shotgun and chooses likely cover. Prone offers good stability... Garrett cocks a brow at the bells... How ironic... Lassiter settles back into his hiding place, his furs and black clothing blending into a clump of bushes. Maggie takes a very Deep Breath, and finds herself a nice clump of bushes, not too far from Evan. All right. All right... Pete has arrived. Jim slips down behind a large rock, after sending his horse back toward town with a slap on the hind quarters. Cobb has arrived. Janson is concealed, and nowhere to be seen. Leonard has arrived. Chester has arrived. Madeline murmurs a thanks, and looks around, herself, for the best place to hide. She goes a bit further away from Evan and Maggie. Best to make sure there are people covering all points, yes? She kneels, though, murmurs again, in quiet prayer, and waits. Pete walks at a fast clip along the roadway, approaching the lone Trading Post. It seems quiet, though the saddled horse that goes trotting by the group, could leave one to wonder. Visser's choice of hiding place has more to do with protecting the women, than targeting the street. But he hides. Desmond has arrived. Evan lurks behind a small snowdrift, near a tree trunk. His horse was slapped a while back, and it's hiding back out of the way somewhere. Garrett has since moved east closer to town and behind two trees growing very close together, easily hiding him. Lassiter, like all the others, has found himself a good place of concealment. He waits silently, a virtual statue, waiting for the arrival of the villains. When he hears their horses he still does not move, waiting for them to approach closer. For the time to be right. Desmond brings up the rear, casually. He's actually just on his way to the theatre see. To watch the drama about to unfold. Evan lines up a bad guy in his sights. Desmond, since he's the one he saw the other day. And since Josh isn't around. Pete slows his horse to a slow step, letting Cobb and Chester pull along side him. "Smells like a trap to me." He murmurs. Maggie waits, quiet, trying not to breathe too hard, nor to faint. She swats away a vagrant thought that tries to identify the bushes she's lying behind. Pay _attention_. Aim... Cobb jacks a round into the chamber of his rifle. He nods to Pete. Sure does. Looks like the town may have found a backbone. Damn Preacher. Janson is silent and unmoving. He is hiding in a shadow in a niche. Chester nods silently to Pete, eyes scanning the landscape. Marron is still watching Seamus, not the fight. Moving to a position near the edge of the buildings where he can see the other man, but not be in danger from stray bullets, he pulls the borrowed weapon out of his pocket and aims it at Seamus' back. His hand shakes so badly, he can hardly hold it steady, and, after a moment, he lowers his arm and puts the weapon back into his pocket. Then he closes his eyes and bows his head, clutching the walking stick tightly, as if it is the only thing keeping him from collapsing. Leonard keeps his eyes open and roaming. Yes, it looks a lot like a trap. He brings his rifle up to his shoulder... Lassiter moves slowly as he aims carefully now that the riders have stopped. Its almost time. Garrett steps out from behind a tree. Conveniently behind the baddies. He has seen Desmond and he's just about to snap. "There's no trap here, you morons." His eyes narrow on Desmond. "You.... get off your horse." Yes, Garrett has lost it. He points at Desmond. Bunny has arrived. The black horses' head sweeps up, and nostrils flare. Desmond turns his gaze to his steed, even as Snakeye continues on, oblivious that the black has stopped. Your sights, Evan, will flash a blurry equine head, with a blaze of white on its nose, then that will back from sight. Almost unasked, the black gelding sidesteps, then begins to back. Desmond swings off the beast and turns its reins south, sliding a now-gloved hand along his flanks. A low murmur, then the horse bolts. Desmond remains, a rifle now in his too-capable hands. Pete is still moving, just slowly. He withdraws his gun from the holster and jumps at the movement near his side. A small furball explodes under the gunfire. Ooops. Maggie moves, slightly, utterly startled. Garrett?! Bunny keels over and dies. Alas. Jim is sitting behind a large rock outcrop off the road. He listens to them approach. Lassiter damns. What does Garrett think he's doing. Evan's eyes widen. Garrett, you fool... ought to shoot you myself, if you want to die... Janson decides to act. Quick aim at Pete, shoot. Reload shoot. Winchester-loader. Chester has a gun in his hand, casually. Still watching. Watching Garrett, of course, but also the landscape. Until that first shot _from_ the landscape... Madeline jumps, at the gunshot, squeezes her eyes tightly closed, and curses herself. Stupid, Maddie. You knew what you were here for. Now. Aim, and pick your target carefully. Lassiter fires at Cobb, or does he? The first bullet knocks Pete clear out of the saddle as it slams into his shoulder, the second goes wild. Using his horse as a shield, He begins to fire wildly from beneath the horses belly. At the noise, Garrett *does* snap. In a flash of black wool and white linen, his left hand is at his side, and his Colt is levelled at Pete. One fast report followed by a quick second. Two shots from the left-hander. Desmond's rifle swings around to the voice: Garrett. Soulblack eyes - and Desmond's soul is black indeed, except for the few chilling embers - pin upon the man. Perhaps not unlike Garrett, Desmond is not a man afraid to die, for what to live for, but shallow pleasure? The love of a handsome horse? The feel of cold gun, or warm shiver of the dying, beneath you? Desmond's rifle raises. He takes the time to aim. Janson is gone. Noone saw. Jim gets to his knees, just his head coming up and his gun out. He takes a second to look over the scene before firing. Cobb curses as his horse drops, blood erupting from the side of its head, falling before he has the chance to jump off, pinning his leg. Evan rolls his eyes. No discipline, but they're not troops, are they? Desmond's moved back, so Evan chooses a better target. Chester. *blam* Shoot, Maggie. Shoot. Do it...She aims, carefully, practically hearing Benington intructing her as she does so, and fires, at...Cobb. Garrett watches Pete fall and his gun arm raises to Desmond. "Put that rifle down and get down here, you snake." Janson notices that Chester is coming close to him now... Chester snarls as Evan wings him. Chester doesn't like getting shot at. Didn't we discuss this? He fights to control his horse, and snaps off a shot toward Evan's location. Madeline fires, too, but not at Desmond. No, Maddie fires at Leonard. A sharp crack from where she's hiding. Pete's horse rears as it takes one of Garrett's bullets, exposing Pete to fire. He continues to fire away, blood seeping from his shoulder in large red spots. Desmond just laughs at Garrett. Except that the laugh has no sound - silence of the tortured, flashing teeth white and straight and neat. Desmond's fingers pull the trigger. Leonard's left shoulder explodes in blood and flesh. Damn shotgun. He turns, only to fall from his horse. Oof. Cobb yelps as Maggie's shot scores the back of one hand as he falls, causing him to drop his rifle out of his reach. Jim frowns, "Thought I told him to stay out of trouble.." as he sees Chester down there among them. But he swings his aim toward Desmond and fires. Visser edges out of his cover, and takes a slow, carefully aimed, shot at Desmond. Overhead, billows of white clouds move gently across the sky. Evan ducks beneath the splintering tree, then rolls around to the other side. Click click, pull, reload, click, click. Where is he.... Pete pulls a second gun, even though he isn't that good with a left hander, he advances upon the group firing shots from both weapons, a man who knows he's about to die. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if Desmond shot him in the back as well. Garrett sees that the snake will not fight and turns to dive back behind his tree... Janson is suddenly there. Chester was a good target... A 210 pound humanoid figure hurtles toward him. Long strides now, away from the rear-attacking Garrett, carry Desmond to the flanks. His coat flickers around him, such that if Visser's bullet hits, the shudder of Desmond's body is camaflaged by the coat. The tall man seems not to miss a stride, but carries himself with prenatural quickness toward one figure, aiming at Leanord. Pete's shots all go wild, richocheting in the dirt. Lassiter moves out of concealment, drawing a bead on Pete as if he has all the time in the world before he fires. Leonard's horse bolts, being perhaps smarter than the man who rode him. He rises to kneel, pointing his rifle toward Madeline... Boom! Maggie gulps, starts to aim, then gasps and ducks at the flurry of shots from Pete. Ducks or falls... Chester tries to fire, wildly, then grunts at the impact of Janson's rush. Chester's big, but Janson's bigger. Cobb howls curses as he stretches for his rifle but can just barely brush it with his fingertips. He sets his free boot against his saddle and shoves. Madeline grits her teeth to muffle the yelp that escapes her, as she's showered with snow. She can duck pretty quickly, when she's being shot at, you'll notice. Janson brings Chester down hard with a roar, "REVENGE!!!" Now it is time! Ah. Does she go down, when Leonard fires at Madeline? Does she have the self-preservation to seek momentary peace behind some object that will not only cut off her from his line of fire, but will blind her own sight as well? Desmond stretches into a slow jog, his rifle seeming steady as he swings around to fire upon another face that appears - too close - in a window. Then he is nearly there, by Madeline. And yes. She ducked. Jim notices Maggie under fire. He chances breaking cover and dashes across toward her, firing his other pistol toward the group. Then firing his other pistol before dropping down beside her. The shots are just covering fire. not likely to hit anything. Farrah has arrived. Leonard goes through the motions of reloading a rolling-block with one hand. Click. Click. Pull. Where's the damn cartridge? Lassiter barely flinches as one of Pete's shots grazes his side. He's lived with pain a long time. He squeezes off his shot. Visser gets to his feet. Jim's going toward Maggie. Visser's going to protect Madeline, whether she likes it or not. He makes his way toward Desmond, aiming a shot. Pete catches Lassiter's bullet dead center in his chest. Both his guns fall to the ground discarded, Pete following soon afterward. Garrett pokes his head out from behind the tree and takes aim at Leonard, reloading. Evan watches Desmond move towward Madeline, and quickly spins to fire. Not her! *blam* Farrah pauses, twirling an umbrella over her head, not caring of the time or weather. Her eyes dilate in alarm, though her expression doesn't seem to change as she watches the carnage. Chester tries to roll Janson over, to get in a fist, his gun firing an entirely wild shot. Seamus shoots out from his hiding place at the edge of town, making a sweeping grab towards Farrah. Lassiter moves towards Cobb. Got some unfinished business to settle. Perhaps the ghosts of Lawrence will finally let him sleep in peace. Leonard ahs. There it is. Ploonk. Click. Lift... Damn snake Desmond. He turns slowly, looking for a good shot... Lassiter! The rifle swings around toward Visser. Two shots off on him. The backfires correspond with the impact of Visser's own bullets. Again...Unclear if Desmond has been hit. He's there now, by Madeline. Continue shooting, Evan, and you risk the Mayor's wife. Maggie doesn't seem to be doing, really, very much at all. Lying, almost comfortably it seems, on her rifle, face down. Boots in the snow? Madeline hears he snow crunch before she sees the boots. Before she looks up to find Desmond so close. Desmond. He's the one. He's the one she's after. Remember, Maddie? Now, you gentlemen protecting her will forgive her, she hopes, but she's going to shoot the bastard herself. Or try. She swings that shotgun around to bear on him. Garrett ducks instinctively as Chester's wild shot dislodges the bark over his head. He quickly ducks back behind the tree and emerges on the other side.. Farrah stiffens, then relaxes instinctively as she's grabbed at, her posture hinting at a desire for preservation over trust. Not a gentleman himself, Madeline. Desmond swings the rifle around like a club, fencing with yours. The impact might sound like a shot, at such a range. Jim lets loose another shot from his pistol..that's 3...and chances a glance down at Maggie. Evan gets off the one rifle shot, then drops it and goes for his pistol, rising to his feet and charging at Desmond. "No!!!" Full speed, all at once, leading with the revolver. It takes a herculean effort on his part but Cobb finally manages to pull his leg free. He rises, favoring the unhurt leg. Pete? "NO!" Not both his boys! Visser jerks back, twice, and falls as Desmond's shots hit their targets, blood coloring the snow. It was a short career. Janson is struck, but doesn't seem to notice, he's way too angry. He pulls hard on Chester's roll, a risky move, but if effective, Chester is at his mercy. At the same time, a hammerlike fist launching itself at Chester's face. Marron is watching the fight numbly from the distance. Then he sees Seamus' motion. Suddenly alert again, he starts to move forward, keeping as close to the brush as he can. Leonard blinks. Where is that damned preacher...... There! Boom! Seamus succeeds, sweeping the girl back with him as he returns to the cover of the building. Unceremoniously, he dumps the girl towards Marron as if he always knew he was there, shadowing. He turns his attention back to the fight. Good view from here. Maggie's quiet and still, Jim. Hard to tell, at a glance, if she's breathing. Madeline was not expecting to have the shotgun knocked out of her hand. Guns are for shooting with, not for using as clubs or bats, so, the shotgun is knocked away from the mayor's wife. Widow. She is stunned, a moment, and then she's fumbling to get her hand into her pocket. There's a pistol there. Lassiter is knocked over by the impact of a bullet striking him in the shoulder. He rolls on the ground and fires the best he's able at his attacker, using the ground to brace the butt of his rifle. Chester is hit. It's not supposed to be this way. Chester's supposed to be the biggest. His strategy changes suddenly, to a desperate attempt to escape, trying to get out from under Janson's attack. Farrah snorts, and then lifts a hand, checking the pins in her hair, shoving the stray oen back into place with a harsh gesture. "Smells like burnt cordite. Papa would NOT approve." Her strained face and wildly dilated eyes are at a disagreement with her cool tone. Jim curses softly, aims at anyone of the 'bad guys' in the open and fires...and fires..then lets the pistol drop, while holding the other at the ready. He reaches down to touch her neck, to gently roll her over if he can as he pulls himself behind cover. Pete manages to crawl a little, closing the distance between himself and Cobb. "Pa?" Leonard arches back, struck high in the neck. "Arrrghghckckkk!" Nnngh! Thud. He drops, limp. Cobb picks up his rifle and then throws it away. The same bullet that his hand has made it useless. He sees Pete moving and heads for him. "I'm here, Pete." "Don't," Desmond advises, body-slamming himself into Madeline while he turns, his rifle swinging up again toward...Persuing Evan. Madeline cushions Desmond's hard body against the wall she's chosen to hide beside. Janson feels his enemy's fear, and relishes in it. Another punch... Get him good and groggy. Marron jumps a little when the woman is pushed toward him, then beckons to her quickly. "This way," he says urgently. "Get out of the gunfire." Farrah glares at Seamus and then at Marron, as if to pin blame for her own stupidity firmly on them. She forces her attention back to the carnage, fingers tightening on the handle of her useless parasol, though she does move in the indicated direction. Maggie doesn't react, but there's a pulse. A shot in...the shoulder? That's where the blood seems to be centered. Lassiter drops his rifle and presses his hand to his wound. Hurts like hell. Pete coughs, blood oozing from his mouth and surely filling his lungs. Another cough and then he sags into a pile of clothing against the white snow. Evan isn't taking "don't" for an answer. Not this time. Not ever. "Come and get me, you bastard!" His gun rises, intent and deadly. Chester snarls and strikes back, aiming a heavy punch at Janson's face. Garrett comes out of hiding fully now. He races through the melee towards Desmond. Jim frowns and lays the other gun down now, unmindful of his own safety he can't let her just bleed to death. Cobb kneels by his son, head bowed, defeated. Madeline thinks the 'Don't' was aimed at her, Evan. And she doesn't, now that she's crushed up against a building by Desmond. She glares at him, glares daggers. Die. Just drop over dead, Desmond. Die die die. Seamus steps back from the viewing advantage, turning back to finally look at Farrah. Why he saved her, who can fathom. Marron needs a playmate. "Looks like plan B my friend." Lassiter takes a deep breath and grits his teeth. With an effort he gets to his knees and then rises, largely through sheer force of will. He refuses to give up. Marron's head jerks upward at Seamus' words. "Not if I can help it," he says quietly. Just like out of the movies, there's a piercing whistle. Evidently the black was trained by the guy who trained Silver for the Lone Ranger, for he whinnys (yes, I know this unbelievable, but I've always said that Desmond is a cartoon character). Desmond half-smiles at Madeline, "Wait." Then he aims at Evan first; he's closer. A handgun. *blamm* Before the gun swings toward Garrett. Farrah glares back, her chin jerking up in outrage, eyes narrowed. "I didn't need saving, you know." She maintains the air of coolness so carefully cultivated. Jim rips at his own sleeve, tearing it off and pressing the white cloth against Maggie's wound. Wiping at it then to try and get a look at the entry wound. Janson manages to see the punch coming, but doesn't react entirely in time. He takes it on the cheekbone, where it glances off, leaving a red swollen blotch. But that doesn't stop him. He stars pummeling Chesters face, his full weight, or as much as he can manage behind them. He isd angry now, and is cvhanneling the anger at Chester, totally. "You... Killed... Anna... I'll... Kill... YOU!" he says as he punches. Evan ooommmffs and drops to the ground. *blam* his gun goes off, wildly. "Shit!" He pushes himself up to one knee, glaring hot death at Desmond. "You black son of a bitch! I'll get you...." Chester isn't a brave man. He's just a big one. He slithers, struggles, scrambles, pushes at Janson's weight, and gets himself groggily out from under the onslaught. Lassiter moves towards his goal, right arm dangling uselessly by his side but thats okay. He can make do with the left. His voice is almost a whisper. "Cobb." Marron glances at Farrah incredulously and shakes his head slowly. He motions toward Seamus, "You're a friend of his then?" Janson doesn't intend to let him go! As Chester wiggles away, he lances out, trying to grab hold around his shoulders... Seamus smiles between Marron and Farrah before nodding to the small one, "Yes. If you can help it. I'm nervous about it. So nervous about it I will tell you when." Farrah says, with all the haughtiness of the upper class faced with the unknown, "Hardly. We haven't been introduced." Cobb looks around and sees the nearest bad guy. Garrett. He grabs up his useless rifle and swings it at the man. The black horse rather dramatically rears (there's got to be a sunrise or sunset around here somewhere), and drops to all four hooves, dancing into a swinging trot toward Desmond. Desmond's next biggest threat is Garrett. Perhaps the ex-mayor will be disinclined to shoot the current mayor's...Widow? Madeline, with a strong-armed shove of Desmond, becomes a human shield, as the tall man begins to hot-foot it toward the black. Chester swings around, and swings a fist at Janson. Evan raises his revolver, trying to keep his mind on his sights. And trying to keep his sights off Madeline. Damn you, snake... Garrett, too intent on Desmond, catches the butt of Cobb's Winchester in the gut. He goes *down* like a sack of so much clothing. Janson lunges to the opposite side, and doges the panicked punch entirely. He tries to catch Chester inm a one-arm hold on his body. Lassiter shuffles towards Cobb, his voice rising now. "Cobb." Madeline is talking, now. Lowly, so that Desmond's probably the only one who can hear her. Or not, as she's shoved along. So, she'll just say this, while she's watching Garrett. "So help me God, if you don't kill me, you son of a bitch, I'll kill you myself when you let me go. I promise you that." She'll be all right, Evan. Trust her. Marron slips his hand back into his pocket, but he does not bring out the weapon. Seamus may not be nervous, but Marron clear is. He draws in a trembling breath and says softly, "Very well then. Tell me." Cobb begins kicking Garrett. "Goddamnmurderingsonofabitch,I'llkillyou." Words just run into each other... Seamus raises a brow at the woman's comment. Indeed. He offers her a smile that could charm the wool off a lamb. "My name is James." We're introduced. Now what? Garrett writhes in agony, trying hard to keep breathing despite his lungs' reluctance. Chester is caught. For the moment. He growls, and tries to twist away. Farrah murmurs evenly, "They're killing each other. This isn't civilized. I thought only savages and Zulus did things like this." Evan doesn't trust _Desmond_. So he's gonna try again. If Madeline would just drop out of the way.... "Grrrrrrrrr....." Damn man, damn horse, damn bullet... That moment is enough. The other hand reaches for his jawline, with almost inhuman speed... (Janson punching Chester) Lassiter stops moving but finds the strength to shout, "Cobb! Don't make me kill you too!" Marron glances at Farrah. "Some kill," he says softly, "Others simply goad those around them into killing, so they never have to dirty their own hands." Garrett yelps airlessly as Cobb kicks him repeatedly. He tries to shield his body with his right arm, but that only gets kicked too. Seamus laughs solidly, casting a glance towards Marron to see if he is sharing his happy mirth. Ah, well, the boy has no sense of humour. "And think you they are any better then savages?" He moves a step closer, "Hmmm?" The hair, Madeline, makes for a lovely handle on you long-haired sorts. Always goes to show that the makers of Hollywood movies are Far Out There, with their armour-less, long-haired lady-warriors. And Desmond's cruel fingers curl into your hair, dragging you along (like Muff, the Caveman), toward the horse, who approaches. Both horse and rider, oddly enough, appear used to this manuver, and despite whatever ails Desmond, he still shoves Madeline onto the beast, springing on after her (and powerplaying all the heck over the place). Cobb aims one last kick at Garrett and then turns, hand dropping to one of his pistols. "Kill me? You killed me when you killed my sons, you god damned yellow bellied bushwhacker! Is this how you repay me? I treated you like one of my own!" Chester's panic rises as he realizes what's about to happen. But it doesn't happen. Chester slips away, his neck intact, running in pure fear. Abandoning his companions along with the fight. Marron stiffens as Seamus approaches the girl. "Leave her alone," he says softly. "Pick on someone your own age." Maggie just lies there, still not moving, bleeding a little less under Jim's efforts. Farrah yawns, forcedly, a hand over her mouth. She moves out of the protective alley way, furling her parasol. As it descends, it aims at the solar plexus, or perhaps lower, of the kicker. Janson roars with anger! "COME BACK, YOU COWARDLY JACKASS!!!!" Yelling won't help. He reaches for his Colt! Evan crawls along, one hand and a knee and a half, trying to keep an angle on Desmond. Damn damn damn damndamndamn... "No....." Lassiter knew it would come to this but had hoped it wouldn't. His good hand slaps leather. Chester runs. A fine target, is Chester, even running. Big. Well-fed. Crashing through the brush. Janson takes aim at the runner... *BOOM* A .44 Hollowpoint bullet rushes toward Chester. Seamus continues to laugh, even more amused now. "That leaves Kamalla, think we are well suited?" Two guns roar at the same time. Cobb and Lassiter standing facing each other over smoking guns, then Cobb sinks to his knees. He looks down at the growing red stain on his shirt. "Damn." Jim continues to work on Maggie. Ignoring everything else for now until he knows she is out of danger. Madeline makes the most god-awful inhuman noise you've ever heard, with her hair caught like that, and being hauled along by it. She struggles, willing to sacrifice hair for freedom, but to no avail, as Desmond catches her up, and tosses her onto the back of that impressive pony. A pony who will a sore flank, as Madeline is going to kick the hell out of him, while she's held there. Farrah reopens the parasol, fingers idly twirling it over her head as she turns her back on the last shots and begins to move down the walkway, not much caring where she's going, gait too stiff for nonchalance. Did it hit? Surely not a good hit, because the crashing continues. Slower, but it continues, as Chester vanishes into the brush. Evan glares glares _glares_. Shoot the damned _horse_, Evan. *blam!* Can't ride without a horse... Seamus peeks out to watch Farrah's departure towards the carnage (?) he turns back to Marron and shakes his head, "Lambs, all of them." Lassiter moves towards Cobb, pistol still covering the man. Just to be safe. He's not dead yet. Janson holds his gun on the circa aim, recocks it, shoots... four more, the gun is empty. The pony is turned, snorting, and bolts, not sparing either rider his long powerful gait, heading south. Desmond pulls his hat down further on his head, then hangs onto Madeline. Black horse, black rider, and widow woman are gone. Not even the haunting bad-guy laugh swirls the heavy wind of their flight. Marron's face flushes and he clenches his fingers tightly around his walking stick. "Kamalla could destroy you so utterly that not even a memory would survive." Desmond has left. Well, there's only so much that Jim can do, out here in the snow with the fight all round him. The bleeding's staunched, and Maggie keeps breathing, shallow. Madeline has left. Janson stands there... Holding his gun, now that it's empty... "For HELVETE!!!" Seamus grins, "Loyal, such an admirable trait. Meet me at the Boarding House Common Room tomorrow evening. I'll tell you my secrets." Cobb's gun drops from nerveless fingers. He looks up at Lassiter with a strange expression. "You're not Daniel." And falls face down in the snow. Evan shouts -- no, _yells_ -- as Desmond drags Madeline off with him. He's failed. And he's going to have to answer for it. "AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH! God _damn_ you straight to hell!" He flings his useless revolver after Desmond, desperately. Jim stands up, picking up his gun as he does and looks around. Ready to carefully carry her back Garrett does not stand up, but he does breathe. Which, all things considered is not half bad. Visser lies there, still, all alone. Not that he would really benefit from anyone's attention, at this point. Marron nods solemnly at Seamus' invitation. "Very well. I shall be there. What time?" Lassiter looks down at Cobb, his expression sad. "Told you I was Daniel no more. Should have listened." He looks around, getting the status of everyone. "Dusk." And then he is leaving, looking back once to see the damage before slipping back into town. Seamus hurries off towards the town to the east. Seamus has left. Farrah sighs, "Which way to the local surgeon? I fear he has a lot of commerce this night." Janson is absolutely furious, but barely controlled. Garrett lies more or less at Lassiter's feet, inches from the fallen Cobb. His eyes are shut and pink stains mar his new shirt. Marron sees Seamus leave. He gives one, last harried look at the battle scene, then follows after the man as best he can. Janson seems to cool down slowly. A bit like redhot steel. He replaces the Colt, and slowly begins to walk toward the hiding place where his rifle lies. Marron heads towards the town to the east. Marron has left. Jim holsters his pistols and lifts Maggie into his arms gently. Lassiter slips his gun back into its holster. No more men to kill. No more ghosts to silence. At least for now. He kneels by Garrett, gasping at a sudden jolt of pain from his arm. He feels for a pulse. Evan huffs and puffs. "Damn damn _damn_. No. Please, no..." He stares down at the snow, trying to ignore the bullet in his gut. Maggie slumps, head flopping. A rag doll. Chester has left. Farrah shakes her head and mutters, "Men. If they aren't expelling one bodily fluid, it certes must be another." Evan crawls, two hands and a knee, headed for his gun. He'll need it someday. "Tracks. We can follow him...." Crawl crawl crawl. Jim looks around as he comes out of hiding. Taking stock of who's healthy and whos hurt. Farrah shakes her head, one precariously fastened ebon pick nodding. "Men. What is WRONG with you." Lassiter tries to stand but his legs feel leaden as the adrenaline begins to leave him and shock sets in. Shoulder feels like hell. Maggie breathes and bleeds. Except, there's a faint protesting mutter, at the jostling, as Jim moves. Evan finally reaches his gun. "Hey. Hey." He turns toward the rest of the crowd. "Hey!" Get over here, people. Jim is already approaching. Who's hurt. Who's not. Those that aren't should be helping those that are, as he will point out as soon as he takes in the situation. Lassiter tries again and this time makes it to his feet, albeit a bit unsteadily. He moves in Evan's direction cradling his hurt arm. Evan is wounded. But he's trying to ignore it. Trying. Broken ribs, healing, from Josh. And a bullet in his gut, from Desmond. But there are more important things. Leonard is pretty much bled out. Farrah sighs, and turns back to the roiling mass of dirt, blood, and sprawled bodies. She lifts her skirt fastidiously, and after planting the tip of her parasol in the dirt, forming a basket of fabrci, begins to rip off pieces of her petticoat. "Laundered just the last week." Janson notices Garrett lying there... Oh God! Garrett is indeed, just lying there. At this point you can start to see the red marks and lacerations on his face. Evan holsters his gun and starts crawling toward his horse. "Come on horse," he mutters. "Get over here." Crawl crawl crawl. Janson closes the distance in three steps. "Garrett, Garrett, For helvet, mand, vaagn opp!" He speaks norwegian out of pure worry. Garrett is unconscious in English though, and doesn't wake up. Lassiter follows after Evan, though he looks to be doing good not to fall over while doing so. Farrah grumps, and walks a bit closer, kicking the stray weapon here and there, whether lying loose or in hands. "Men, boys in adult suits. Idiots with a certificate of adulthood." Her hands are full of strips of linen, and she hesitates, not knowing where to turn first. Janson crouches down, checking for bullet wounds on him Jim looks at Farrah, "Help him." nodding to Evan. He settles Maggie down again. "Hang in there.." he says softly to her. He needs some water. Janson checks his spine... Then he lifts him up. Garrett stirs as Janson jostles him. The words "...not supposed to..." escape his lips and he slowly comes to. Lassiter half kneels, half falls by Evan. Maggie mutters, eyelids flickering. Something's moving her. And it _hurts_.... Jim notices Lassiter. Then looks back to Maggie. He needs to get the bullet out.. Janson carries him nonetheless, and has regained enough composure to speak english. "There, I'll get you taken care of. You've got some bruises and maybe a little concussion. Nothing to worry about..." He keeps up the talk all the time. Garrett coughs as he starts to regain consciousness and he flails for a moment, unsure of his balance because he's being lifted. Farrah eyes Evan. "Help him how? He's bleeding." She does, however, stoop down, and attempts with awkward gestures to stanch the flow of blood. Evan keeps crawling, to the best of his ability, toward his horse. "Damn it, he's got her..." Garrett tries to speak now. "Mr..." cough cough... "No. No..." cough... "Down..." Janson stops lifting, but doesn't put him down. "You need help. We can't just have you lying here..." Maggie would argue about getting the bullet out. It's sure to hurt. But she's just trying to get her eyes open. One hand reaches to grasp at anything it can catch. Lassiter sees that Farrah is helping Evan, or at least trying to, and allows himself to sink down upon the ground. Tired. Jim takes hold of that hand,"Rest easy Maggie. It's over." Garrett shakes his head. "Yes. Let me get my f-f-feet." Janson slowly places Garrett in an upright position, but keeps one of the man's arms over his shoulder. He bends down a little. Maggie tightens her hand on Jim's and struggles to remember _what's_ over. It's something bad, she remembers that. Evan's horse comes over to him, snuffling a little. "There you are," you stupid horse. A quick look over toward Farrah. "Could you help me up?" Can't even stand, and it's embarrassing. But he's got to ride, to finish something, if he can. Garrett nods, now coughing good and earnestly. He spits blood and clears his throat. "The horses, Janson." Jim looks to Farrah,"If he tries to get up on that horse just hit him over the head with that parasol of yours." He's only half joking. He looks out toward the direction that Desmond went. A decision being made. Farrah staunches the wound, and presses the man's hand over it. "HOLD that. Or I'll be coming to a viewing." Garrett keeps his feet, but hopes secretly that Janson doesn't see if he can stand on his own. Farrah glares at Janson, "Move him, and he might die." Evan looks up at Farrah, completely clueless. But he puts his hand on the wound, pressing. "But he took her away....." We can't just leave her... Farrah says "You never heard of broken ribs and punctured lungs? Where's the doctor?" Lassiter lays on his back, staring up at the sky. Words come to him and he speaks softly. "And when he had opened the third seal, I heard the third beast say, Come and see. And I beheld, and lo a black horse; and he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his hand." Garrett shakes his head at Farrah's words. "I'm fine..." cough. Farrah sighs at Evan. "Men. You think you're indestructible. You're clay, and easily broken." Jim looks around. "We need to make a litter, ma'am..." Marron has arrived. Farrah nods, "Litter. Or else you'll all be litter here." Janson looks around, counting horses... His 'own' is standing a little away. They all seem to be accounted for. "They'll be taken care of." he says soothingly. He briefly glances at Farrah, and says "I checked his spine. It's whole." Farrah eyes Lassiter. "And he's needing help, too. I only have two hands and three petticoats." Maggie remembers, now, and struggles to sit up. To see. Who's dead.... Evan glares up at Farrah for a moment. "You haven't seen _half_." I'll be destroyed long before I'm defeated... Garrett nods. "I'm broken...*cough*..but I'm leaving with my own feet." And with that, he straightens a bit. Still looking like he's been kicked to a pulp, but taller now. Jim looks up as Marron arrives,"Sir, we need some help gettting these people back to town safely...a wagon and some more hands out here..." He looks to Janson,"You can help.." Janson still supports Garrett, guiding him east. "I'll get help!" Marron comes wandering back in at a slow pace. He stares at the people on the ground and then nods at Jim's words. "What should I do?" Garrett suddenly realizes that his left hand still clutches violently to his revolver, hammer down on an empty chamber. He slowly returns it to his holster. Farrah glares, "Die then. Just don't bleed on my boots!" She hovers, skirts unfurled over her boots like sails in a windstorm." Janson strides off towards the town to the east. Janson has left. Garrett strolls off towards the town to the east. Garrett has left. Jim nods toward Lassiter and tells Marron, "Help me with him..." He looks to Maggie, "Stay still or you might hurt yourself more.." He moves over to Lassiter to check the damage. Evan watches the boots go. Fine, keep them away and I won't bleed on them. He pulls on his horse's reins, uselessly. Damn damn damn... Lassiter frowns as the rest of the words come to him. Thats not right is it? Marron follows obediently behind Jim. He pales a bit as he recognizes Lassiter, but he follows anyway. Balancing his arm around the walking stick, he reaches with his hands to help Jim as best he can. Evan falls face-first into the snow, frustrated. Not good enough. Not good enough... Maggie nods seriously to Jim, and keeps trying to sit herself up, once he's turned away. Maybe she can do something... Jim looks over Lassiter, taking some of the linen and some water from a canteen he cleans the wound and tells Marron to bandage it, handing him the linen. It seems Mr. Randolph needs his help...Jim moves toward Evan once he's satisfieed that Marron can help Lassitar Farrah sighs, and turns back, leaning down to offer a supportive shoulder. "Come on, the ground's red enough." Lassiter closes his eyes as more words come unbidden to him. "And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books according to their works. And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them: and they were judged every man according to their works." That's more like it. Marron bandages the wound silently, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. He glances back at Maggie as he work, but turns back to Lassiter at his words. Jim stops as Farrah turns her attention back to Evan... alright then, back to Maggie? He looks over at her. Evan lies there, one hand pressed against the bullet hole in his gut, the other clenched around his horse's reins. Lying in the snow, jaw tight, determined but useless. Janson has arrived. Janson comes back, running as fast as his legs carry him. He heads for Lassiter. Maggie is looking around, a little wildly. Searching for something with her eyes. Jim steps over to Maggie, not noticing Janson yet,"What is it Maggie?" Maggie says softly, "Randall and Evan...." Where? Marron continues to work on bandaging Lassiter's wound. But he listens to the man with interest now. Janson comes up to Lassiter, and crouches down by him. Jim turns her carefully,"Mr. Randolph is right over there Maggie.." smiling gently at her. Marron pauses in his work and glances up at Janson. "Can you finish this?" he asks, "I want to check on the others." Janson Leans down by his ear. He mutters to Lassiter, "The..." He looks back up, and accepts the job. Maggie looks at Evan. He doesn't look good, not at all. But he does look alive. So, "Randall?" Marron hands Janson the bandages and looks around to see how the others are doing. Jim looks to the others,"Is there a Randall here?" Janson continues the bandaging, he tried this before as well. Closing good men's wounds... Evan looks up from where he's collapsed in the snow. He sees Farrah standing over him, and lets go of the reins to hold up a hand... not giving up, but putting it off for the moment. Lassiter nods slightly. A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny. But there are other scales. "Then I will put them right again." Janson nods, and continues. Madeline has arrived. Farrah sighs, "You don't know when to lie down and die, do you? Fine." She stoops down, and fits her shoulder under an arm, then slowly, with a great deal of strain, begins to rise. Marron pushes carefully to his feet and makes his way over to Maggie. Evan grunts as he rises to his feet, supported by Farrah. "Damn right I don't. Better things to do..." Ow bleed bleed bleed... Madeline is a speck, at the moment. Slogging through the snow, with her coat half on and half off, looking like a wild-woman speck, with her hair all tangled and hanging in her eyes. You probably won't notice her yet. She just wanted to get out of the trading post. Janson closes the bandage tight, and starts checking vitals. Pulse, breathing, spine, etc. Lassiter closes his eyes briefly. Now where was he. "And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, and prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him." See father? I really was listening all those years ago. Maggie keeps looking. No Randall. Ought there be a Randall? She grabs for Jim's arm. This really, really isn't good. Marron looks at Jim. "Do you need any help with her?" Janson seems a little worried... He's rambling. He looks up. "He's low on blood! We have to get a doctor!" Lassiter isn't rambling. Not really. Just focusing his mind on something he knows well so he doesn't drift off to sleep. Of course there's no way anyone else could know that so... Farrah pants, but stands, her shaking skirts indicating the degree of effort, "Where?" Jim smiles at Marron, "We should get her back to town so the doc can take a look at her and the rest.." he looks over at Evan. Janson reaches up, about five feet even tho he's crouched. "Here!" Evan looks around, trying to answer Farrah's question. Where? "Maggie?" Not her too.... Marron looks from Jim to Maggie. "Do you need me to help carry her? Or should I go for the doctor?" Jim frowns, this is getting bad,"Get the doctor..and tell him to get here now.." Janson found no flaw on Lassiter's spine... But he can't walk. He tries to contact him. "I'll get you to the doctor..." That's her name, yes. Maggie looks up at Evan's voice. Good sign, him talking. But what about Randall...? Evan winces when he sees Maggie. Yes, her too. Damn damn damn. This was _not_ in the plan, either of them. He sighs. "I'm going to die," he says quietly. Marron straightens up. "It might be faster to carry them back, wouldn't it?" He glances at Lassiter wondering if the man would survive until the doctor arrives. Jim frowns, he's not handling this well. "All right...I'll help with Mr. Randolph...You take Maggie...You (Janson) help him.." means Lassiter. Janson nods. Then he shoves his hands and arms underneath lassiter's body, and lifts him in a stable hold. Evan winces. Damn bullet's moving. "Faster? Go ride and _get_ the damn doctor. Move one, not six." Or however many of us there are. Marron nods and reaches down his free arm to help Maggie up, if she will let him. Lassiter winces. Careful of that graze along his side. Didn't do much damage but it hurts like the dickens. Maggie accepts Marron's help, looking vaguely toward Evan as he speaks. Vague until she actually starts to move, and the pain announces itself through the shock. Then she doesn't balance so well. Janson is careful. Farrah sways and grumbles, "Nearest bed for you, lad." Jim moves over by Farrah and Evan. He frowns. Of course, Evan's horse is right there.. all the others have run off. "I'll take your horse... Evan's right, keep them here until I get back.. moving them could make it worse.." he says to Marron, feeling a bit the fool for wavering back and forth. But better to look the fool and have them all live. Evan keeps glaring at the ground, trying to stay focused enough to stay conscious. "Where's Madeline? Where?" Marron tries to support Maggie as best he can and still remain standing himself. He looks at Evan silently uncertain whether to put Maggie down or keep her standing. Jim pulls himself up into Evan's saddle, unless someone protests and tells Farrah, "keep him from doing anymore harm to himself and I'll be back as quick as I can.." Farrah nods, and maneuvers Evan to the nearest relatively clean, off the street area possible, even if it's the sidewalk. Madeline is, at least, a bigger speck. Lassiter continues his rambling sermon, such as it is. "And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful. And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely. He that overcometh shall inherit all things: and I will be his God, and he shall be my son. But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone." Evan * sidewalk? We're kinda out in the middle of nowhere out here. There's a space compression or something between here and the town. Maggie is only vaguely upright; she's almost entirely supported by Marron. Or, if she's too much, they may both be falling down shortly. She looks, confusedly at Lassiter. Are they all already dead? Evan ends up dropped wherever Farrah puts him, trying to look around for the rest of the good guys. Trying to take roll, to see who's here and who's missing. Jim digs his heels in and heads toward town without another word. Jim strides off towards the town to the east. Jim has left. Marron looks back to Evan, seeming a little dazed himself now, and asks quietly, "What do you want me to do?" Maggie says softly, "Wait." And where's Randall? Marron asks quietly, "Who is Randall?" Maggie blinks at Marron, as if it's a trick question. "My husband." Stumbling, suddenly, losing what balance she's got. Evan blinkblinks. Randall? Randall. "He.... he went off after.... after.... Madeline." And whoever that black-clad bastard was. Jim has arrived. West has arrived. Marron lurches as well and tries to grab for her while maintaining his balance. If she falls, he probably will as well. Jim dismounts and explains what he knows of the injuries of those here. West insists that Jim take his bag as he dismounts, stiffly. He's too old for this. What do you all look like? Jim flickers a frown, then neutral, and takes the bag,"Mr. Randolph here seems the worse of them... Maggie there's been shot in the shoulder.. as has that man (lassiter)... the others should be checked as well." Evan looks pretty bad. A bullet wound in his abdomen, over near his appendix. Bleeding pretty well, but not enough to keep him from being angry and frustrated that he can't get up and do anything. Well, okay, and three partially-healed broken ribs from the whomping. Lassiter looks a bit on the pale side, though that could just be the cold. His right shoulder has been bandaged and he's lying on the ground babbling quotations from Revelations. West sees to Mr. Randolph first, then, after snapping in Maggie's direction, "Sit her down, please." Bleeding and standing up. Hmph. He kneels by Evan and delicately tries to get a look at that wound. Jim was just about to suggest that as he moves toward Marron now, "Here.. take a rest friend you look tired too.. I'll look after her." Maggie seems to have recovered her balance, but... sitting seems like a nice idea, yes. She does so. It's barely distinguishable from falling down. Evan will let him look. It's a bullet hole, of the plain variety. Desmond's fault. Nothing _too_ nasty, but the kind that will kill him eventually, if not treated. West orders, as he rises to have a quick look at Lassiter, "Get a wagon. Can you get a wagon? He's not going anywhere on horseback." He inspects Lassiter's shoulder. In case they hadn't noticed, "It's cold out here." Marron hands Maggie over to Jim and then moves a short distance away from the others to give the doctor room to work. He sits down in the snow and watches the others silently. Jim nods as he rises from Maggie's side. "I'll bring one.." Marron glances at Jim. "Can I ride with you? I'm not much use here." Evan squeezes his eyes closed, pained and angry. Not good enough. Slog slog slog. That is definitely a people shaped speck, truding through the snow, dressed in black, and brown, with a mane of golden hair. She's not slogging as quickly, but she's slogging. Have to get Silverlock, you know. It's cold and he doesn't have a blanket. [a short time-skip happens here, agreed to by the players] Jim catches sight of Madeline finally. Not much he can do to help her right now. She'll be alright. He turns to Marron, "Sure.." Jim and Marron head off, get the wagon, blankets are distributed. West heckles and scolds, and gets the patients wrapped up. Watch those horses. Get those hands wrapped up; haven't you heard of frostbite? Patients wrapped, loaded, and West sits over them with a proprietary air. Shivering. "Drive this thing, will you?" He's usually much more polite. You'll have to take his word for it. Jim is sitting at the front awaiting the word. In the distance, the bells of the reformed church ring loudly to designate the hour. Evan is in the wagon, shivering, staying angry to stay awake. Maggie clutches at the blankets, _still_ looking for Randall. Trying to put it together. Scanning the snow. And, yes, shivering. Lassiter is also loaded into the wagon, covered with blankets but still shivering as well. Farrah strides off ahead, muttering something about savages and lack of civilized conveniences like doctors. West nods to Jim, perhaps apologetically. More mildly, "Drive, please. Gently over the rough spots." Madeline is close enough to be spotted, now, with her skirts gripped in her hands. That's a Madeline, yep. She's searching, too, for her horse. Farrah hurries off towards the town to the east. Farrah has left. Maggie blinks at that figure. Softly, "Look..." She struggles to get a hand out of the blankets, to point. Evan blinks. Look? At what? No, they're not back..... He grunts a bit, trying to raise his head up enough to actuially look. "Huh? What? Where?" Maggie tries to make it out, for certain. Skirts. That hair. "Madeline...?" Jim figures that's who it must be then, he calls to her, "Hurry up Madeline..we have to get these wounded folks back to town." Evan blinks again, and focuses intently. Madeline? "Madeline?" Oh, there? There? There! "Oh God...." He sounds terribly relieved... West makes his way to the end of the wagon and climbs off, watching the woman. Hurry up. Hurry up? She's got half the snowfall of Montana clinging to the bottom of Jaime's coat, her skirts, and her boots. You'll excuse her if she doesn't speed up entirely. You could meet her halfway, you know, if there's a wagon. Still, she alters her course, and slogs toward the wagon. Jim will get the wagon moving if she is still that far off, except that West climbed off now. Evan sags back into the wagon, exhausted, closing his eyes, finally letting go of that rage. "Oh, thank God....." She's back. West grabs a blanket and walks to meet her on foot, if not without a little grumbling. He tries, without permission, to put it around her and support her along. Madeline is glad for the blanket, thank you, West, and glad for the help, too. Teeth chattering and lips a little blue, she doesn't even bother to ask questions. She clambers up into the wagon clumsily. Maggie pulls her hand numbly back inside the blanket, and settles again. Eyes closed. Evan watches Madeline climb into the wagon, and reaches out with a weak hand, to make sure she's real. No words, but he's _terribly_ relieved... Jim gives a strong 'hi yup' to the horses and continues a soft cadence to them as he gets the wagon moving at a decent, but slow pace once everyone is in and secure. West took two tries to get himself in. He comments mildly on the bumps, and tries to have a look at Madeline, as they make their way into town. [West Maddock] Madeline's got a couple scrapes, a bruised scalp and rump, and frostbite, on her fingers and ears, maybe her toes. Other than that, she's fine. She does, however, take Evan's hand with her own icy-cold one, and leans her head against his shoulder. Propriety? Never heard of him. West confirms it's no worse than that, and leaves her alone. Time enough later. Evan holds Madeline's hand tightly, pulling it to his chest. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. No, he doesn't mind her head at all. He's very glad, and very relieved, to see her. Maggie drifts off, silently, burrowing in blankets. Randall...? Jim heads the wagon towards the doctor's office Well, the doctor's office would be good, if it were West's office. But no doubt you all have a fine doctor in this town, and the vacationing West can get some rest. Doesn't stop him from poking and prodding and checking pulses, thought. [eventually...] Infirmary The infirmary is a spacious room, kept as clean as the rest of the clinic, with a wooden floor and white-painted walls. Curtained windows along one side don't offer much of a view, but the light and air they let in from outside can be beneficial. There are six comfortable if small beds arranged in rows on opposite sides; a curtain can be drawn down the center to offer some amount of privacy. On one wall, cabinets contain fresh linen, towels, cloths, cleaning supplies, extra pillows and so forth. A rack holds some dog-eared books and magazines. On the wall nearer the surgery, a counter provides some working room; medicines are kept in the cabinets below, and there are numerous containers of fresh, clean water kept handy. Basins hold dirty dishes and insturments to be washed. In one corner, a large stove helps warm the room, and is also used for heating water, soup, and making coffee and tea. Some chairs and stools are provided for staff and visitors. The room is usually quiet, with some efforts made to keep things cheerful. West looks around. Primitive. Well, it's warm. Clean, too. He mutters, "Get them in bed..." What kind of place is this? It works for Maddock, when it's all they've got. Mrs. Rutherford, ever present, is there to help the wounded into beds. West wants them _all_ in bed. Including Madeline. And he eyes Jim for signs of frostbite or bruises. Evan ends up in a bed, after being pried free from Madeline. He just lies there, though, limply. He's partly conscious, vaguely aware, but not really doing anything. Well, okay, mumbling a little... Jim is fine really, just a little weary. He seems concerned over all of them. Responsible. Though he does take particular interest in Maggie's health. She saved his life once. Madeline is nothing if not stubborn, West, in case no one'd told you, yet. See, she has a son to take care of, and Maggie, there, she has a little girl who needs to be taken care of, and Maddie is a good hand at taking care of folk, just ask Miguel, so once her fingers warm up she'll be just fine but please don't make her stay in that bed, see? Maggie lets herself be put to bed without a fight, fussing with her blankets. Looking, always. She asks, quietly but above a whisper, "What happened?" West can be stubborn himself. "Now, you sit down, ma'am, and I'll have a look at your fingers and toes and send for some dry clothes, and we'll see if you can go home." As he rummages for supplies, as if he owned the place. Evan tries to clear his throat. Yeeowch, that hurts. "We... we got 'em, right?" At least, the ones that were there? Jim looks between Maggie then to Evan,"We got them..though I think that Chester fellow got away..and maybe some others. We were a bit more concerned about you folks then to be out chasing tracks down." Madeline sits, then. She's going to sit and look miserable. At Evan. And then she looks miserable at the bed, instead. West has no idea what they're talking about. Well, that's not true. Something to do with all the trouble centered around the saloon. But that's not West's problem. He's on vacation. Got it? He's not getting himself involved. That little tirade starts coming out in mutters, as he finds bandages and puts water on to heat. Maggie squeezes her eyes shut. "Chester..." Faintly. And, childishly, "I want Randall." Evan swallows. "Then it's not over..." A quick look around. The women came along, and here they are. One shot, one captured. He looks at them, then closes his eyes. He had to let them come along, he had to let this happen... Jim moves out, "I'll go take a look, we don't want them sneaking back into town." He nods to West. "Thank you sir.." Jim goes out into the hallway. Jim has left. West nods. Thanks is all very well, but where are the scissors? Maggie insists, "It is. It _is_, if most of them are...it's over." Got to be over. "One can't outnumber us." Very, very faintly shrill. Two. Maddie takes a breath, and says, just barely audibly, "He'll come back.." Evan takes a pained breath. "We've stopped them now, but.... it's not done." A quick look at Madeline. That one got away. Maggie protests, "No, he _won't_." Wrong 'he', very likely. Maggie's perceptibly into shrill, now. Evan would raise a hand, but he's too weak. And he's concentrating on speaking. "Easy, easy.... not now. Not now." We'll kill him later. Madeline closes her eyes again. "Just rest, Maggie. Just rest. It'll be all right." Maggie shivers. "They're gone. We won. We have to have won." West will walk in and out of the conversation, bandaging, and checking frostbite, and eventually bullets will have to come out. And he'll do his best to get Madeline into a bed, and he'll write reports for whoever really owns this little operation, and he'll stumble home to his boarding house room when the real doctor turns up. And if this sounds like a summing-up pose, it's because it is. :) Evan just lies there, hoping it _will_ be all right. Hoping we _have_ won. Hoping hoping hoping... Maggie says softly, "They won't come back. Doesn't make sense. They'll just run..." Surely they will. Madeline's brow wrinkles. "Hush, Maggie," she says, as gently as she can, from her bed. "Just rest." Evan nods a little. "They'll go somewhere else now..... they... they've been bloodied." We stood up to them. We really did. Maggie nods. "He won't come back." Firmly, or as firmly as she has the strength to be. Evan sighs. "Not today..." He turns his head a little, to look at them again. "Are... are you all right?" Yes, both of you. Maggie says, "I'll be fine." Just as firmly. Madeline mmhms. Maggie twists around very very carefully, to try to see Evan. "What about you?" Evan settles back onto the bed, relaxing finally. "I tried...... Me? I'll get by...." Not really thinking about how... Maggie says "Tried...what?" Evan sighs, and his voice grows quiet. "I didn't want this to happen to you... either of you." Madeline frowns again. "Stop," she says, firmly, "blaming yourself. Just.. stop." Maggie frowns. "I wanted to come. You'd have had to lock me up to keep me from coming." She nods at Madeline's words, and settles herself slowly back into a position where she can see them both. Evan sighs again. "I.... It's done, now. I just... I'm glad it's done." Finally _did_ something. Maggie nods. Softly, "They're gone." Madeline untucks herself from the bed. Doctors be damned, Maddie's leaving. Evan looks up at Madeline's movement. "Hey, wait.... You shouldn't..." Maggie blinks at her. "Madeline?" She wasn't worried about her while she was in bed - she walked back, after all. But leaving's different. "Are you sure you're well enough?" Madeline stops, and turns back to face both of you, summoning up the best of her faint smiles. "This is silly, really, having me here. I'm not hurt, and I .." Let him go. "I should really leave you two to rest." Evan frowns. "Are you sure?" I can't exactly stop you, so... Maggie says "But...but the doctor thought you ought to stay." Madeline's shoulders slump a bit, and she runs her hands numbly over her hair, trying to find some way that she can twist it so that it stays back, out of her eyes, and off her face. "Is there anything I can do for either of you?" Maggie shakes her head. "Nno. No." Worried. Something's Not Right. Evan tries to think. "Um, just... if anyone asks... I'm all right?" Let them know? Yes, she's changing the subject, so she can go, but... Madeline nods. "I'll tell them." She hesitates, and thinks better of what she meant to say, apparently. "Good night." Evan nods slightly, letting her go. "Take care..." Maggie frowns. She doesn't like this, at all. Quietly, "Be careful. Just in case..." In case it's not over. Part of the reason she's going, Maggie. Desmond made some.. not pretty threats. Madeline goes out into the hallway. Madeline has left. As if Desmond would make pretty threats. Evan slumps even more into his bed, it seems. "I... I hope the sheriff's not too angry..." Maggie watches her out, swallowing once or twice. She turns toward Evan, shifting to see him better. "He'll be furious. At me. Just me." Evan isn't watching anything, himself. Kinda drifting off... "You got out of it all right. That's what's important..." Maggie nods a little. "We'll be fine." One hand gripping her pillow, to settle herself down. He's _leaving_. Not leaving, but...leaving. Sleeping. Evan is half-thinking similar thoughts. "I... I think we should rest. I'm so tired...." Too much bleeding. Maggie says, before he can fade away, "Evan? They're gone, aren't they? They won't be back?" Please? Evan blinks a time or two, dragging himself back from oblivion. "Hm? Oh, they're gone. They...... they can't keep us down anymore. They'll move on." Maggie nods. Gone. Just pretend they're dead, Maggie. All of them. Vaguely, "Good night..." Evan nods, weakly. "Good night..... sleep well, okay?" Please? Maggie nods. "I'll try..." Pulling that pillow round to hug it, and hiding her face in it. Drifting off, pain or not, almost as soon as she closes her eyes.