azombiewrites: (The Magnificent Seven)
[personal profile] azombiewrites
Title: Mortimer Johnson
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Magnificent Seven
Main Characters: Ezra, the rest of the seven + OMC
Summary: Mortimer Johnson is searching for the man who killed his son five years earlier and he thinks he has found him in Four Corners.
Disclaimers: The guys are owned by CBS, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment Group, and The Mirisch Corp.
Spoilers: None
Status: Complete
Total Word Count: 16,660



Five minutes passed and Ezra had already forgotten what the conversation he had with Nathan was about. The holes that were empty of any memory were frustrating him, causing him to become angry at himself. He felt stupid, helpless and vulnerable. Fear was something else he was feeling, what if they, or someone took advantage of his lapses of memory.

Ezra threw the blanket off and stood up, he swayed to the left then right and prayed that he didn’t fall flat on his face. The idea of sitting down again didn’t enter his mind. Once his body had steadied itself he looked for his clothes. A familiar dark green jacket laid across the wooden chair in the corner, his trousers and shirt was folded neatly on the seat. He dressed quickly knowing that Nathan would be back any minute. If he was caught escaping they would probably tie him down, it had been done before.

He crept to the door like the snake he sometimes felt he was and opened it slightly, he stared out into the sunlight looking for his keepers. When he found none he opened, the door further and stuck his head out into the warm air. They still weren’t to be seen. Ezra smiled, his confidence growing. He walked as fast as he dared, he didn’t want to fall down the stairs and land flat on his face, and it would be a fine position to be found in. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs he began to walk, he didn’t know where he was going, didn’t know why he didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t really care as long as it was a way from the clinic.
The gambler reached the boardwalk and tipped his hat to the old man sitting on the bench in front of the hotel and without waiting for a returning greeting, he kept going. The freedom he felt put a spring in his step. His headache was almost forgotten. A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. The quick mind was already coming up with excuses as to why he wasn’t still in the clinic. If only he could remember why he had to be there in the first place.

Ezra heaved a sigh of relief when he realised it was the old man he’d just passed. Did he know him? He didn’t think so, he knew everyone that lived in and around Four Corners but for some reason this man seemed familiar. The younger man frowned when a gun was shoved against his side. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Did Nathan have everyone in town on the lookout for him, was this man supposed to return him to his prison so he could be guarded by his friends.

“Start walking toward the jail. Say anything to alert your friends and you’re a dead man. Got me?” Mortimer ordered him.

“Got you what?”

“What are you? Stupid?”

“Me stupid? No, on the contrary, I am quite intelligent, I just thought you said you got something.”

“If you were that smart you would be walking.” Mortimer growled and pushed the barrel of the gun harder against the man’s side.

Ezra winced at the pressure, “Where did you want me to go?”

“The jail.”

He nodded and began to take small steps, he was hoping that he would be caught. Ezra glanced at the saloon across the street as he walked passed it. This was just typical, when he wanted to be seen, he isn’t and when he didn’t want to be seen, he was. What was wrong with these people, did they know nothing about being in the right place at the right time.

“Move faster!”

“Moving as fast as I can.”

“You’d move faster if I shot you in the leg.”

“You could do that if you want.” Ezra said as he smiled over his shoulder at his kidnapper.

“You think I’m an idiot? I’m pretty intelligent myself you know.”

“No I didn’t know.” Ezra snarled at him.

“You’re going to get to know a lot about me shortly.” the old man smiled.

The jail was getting closer, Ezra’s mind wondered if one of the others were in there. If there were then it would be a quick way of getting out of this mess. He just didn’t know what this mess was. The old man looked familiar, he’d seen him before but he couldn’t place the face or the voice.

Ezra kept watching for some sort of help but nothing was forthcoming. Was his luck this bad. Now that was a stupid question. Why didn’t he stay where he was. Because he was a stubborn bastard that didn’t like other people worrying about him or fussing about him.

“We’re here.” Mortimer had to grab the shoulder again to stop the man.

“We’re where?” Ezra asked him.

“Is there something wrong with your brain?”

“I fell on it yesterday.”

“Well that would explain a few things.”

Mortimer knocked on the door. There was no response. “Open it and go in.”

Ezra didn’t want to do that, if he did then there was no chance of being rescued, they wouldn’t see him in the jailhouse. His friends wouldn’t know he was in there with a madman that was holding a gun against his side.

“Do it or you die in the street.”

“I’m standing on the boardwalk, therefore I would die on the boardwalk.” Ezra corrected him.

“Either way you’ll die.”

“Then one of my friends will gun you down in retribution.” the Southerner threatened him.

“Don’t rightly care about that, I plan on dying after I take care of you anyway.”

Ezra didn’t like the sound of that, it meant that this man would pull the trigger without any hesitation or thought on the matter. That wasn’t right. He opened the door - he didn’t want to die now, later would be better - and stepped into the jailhouse. The building was empty, no prisoners and no guards.

“Get into one of the cells.”

“Did I commit a crime that I didn’t know about? Are you arresting me?”

“How many times did you fall on it in your lifetime?”

“Fall on what?”

“Your head.”

“Lost count.” Ezra shrugged and sat down on the uncomfortable bed.

“I think the one yesterday was one too many.” Mortimer smiled at him. “Now don’t you go anywhere.”

Ezra snorted at the sarcastic remark and threw his hat onto the bed next to him. He watched as the man shut and locked the cell door, he then moved to the front door and locked it. Ezra knew where he was going when he disappeared around the corner of the cells, he was locking the back door. No one could get in if they didn’t have a key and Ezra knew they didn’t have one. Well, it didn’t matter, Ezra was quite competent of picking a lock, if he had the right equipment that was and he didn’t.

Mortimer returned to the cells and smiled down at Ezra. “Suppose it’s time to let you know what’s happening.”

“If you could, I’d be grateful but you may have to tell me a few times, I’ve gotten very forgetful.”

“The bump on the head.” Mortimer nodded.

“You know, for someone who wants to kill me, you’re being a bit, well concerned about my health.”

“What makes you think I want to kill you?”

“You don’t? But you said outside . . . ”

“That was to get you in here, besides it’s going to depend on your reaction and memory.”

“Then I’m a dead man.”

“Only if you admit your guilt.”

“My guilt? For what? What did I do?”

“You killed my son when he accused you of cheating.”

“Good Lord.” Ezra groaned and sat back against the cool brick wall.

________________________________________

“Where the hell is he!?” Nathan demanded when he found the empty bed. “Son-of-a-bitch promised me he wouldn’t go anywhere.”

Chris smiled, he couldn’t help it, and the expression on the healer’s face was laughable. “You made him promise when he can’t even remember something that happened five minutes ago.”

“Shit!” Nathan practically threw the tray of food onto the bed.

Chris was grateful he was carrying the pot of coffee, it would’ve been a mess to clean up if it ended up all over the sheets.

“He’s probably in his room or the saloon.” Chris told him.

“He better be, he’s a dead man if he isn’t.” Nathan stormed out of the room with Chris right on his heels. “I don’t do this for the fun of Chris, I do this to help people, he’s got a head injury and he thinks he knows what’s best for himself. Is he a doctor? No he isn’t. I’m not a doctor either but I sure as hell know more about medicine than that idiot does. What if he . . . Aw to hell with him. I don’t know why I bother with him or any of you.”

“What did I do?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing!”

“Don’t get angry at him Nathan,” Chris warned him, “he’s not in the right frame of mind remember.”

“At least he won’t be cheating some poor sod out his life savings.”

“He doesn’t cheat Nathan, I told you that already.”

“How would you know, you can’t catch him at it, he’s too good.”

Chris grabbed Nathan by the arm and turned to face him. “Because he told me he doesn’t cheat and I believe him. It’s about time you do the same thing Nathan.”

“I know Chris, it’s just that he pisses me off and he does it so easily. He’s aggravating!”

“Now that I agree with. Some days I just want to beat some sense into him. For some reason he likes to piss off danger when it’s staring him in the face.”

“He’s an idiot, doesn’t know what’s good for him. Can’t see what he’s got right in front of him.”

“Why don’t we find him first, then deal with that when he’s feeling better.”

“He’s not going to be well enough after I find him ‘cause I’m gonna kill him.”

“Kill him later Nathan, I won’t let you touch him now.”

“Is that a promise, I can kill him later.”

“Yeah, why not. Might teach him a lesson.” Chris smiled.

They found no sign of Standish in the saloon or his room. The others had joined in the search and it had been decided that they would meet back at the saloon in thirty minutes. The men searched the stables, hotel, and general store and everywhere else, they could think of.

Chris and Vin joined each other as they crossed the main street to search the jailhouse. Both of them had thought that Ezra might think it was the last place they would look for him. He had been right, this was the only building they hadn’t checked.

“He better be here.” Chris growled.

“I don’t know where else he’d be.” Vin shrugged his shoulders.

“I just hope he didn’t leave town.”

“His horse is in the stable.”

“Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t take another one to throw us off.” Chris said as he went to open the door. It
wouldn’t budge. “It’s locked.”

“Let me have a go.” Vin pushed him aside.

“I said it’s locked.” Chris repeated.

“Why would it be locked?”

“Sometimes Vin, you can be really stupid.”

“Sometimes.” the ex-bounty hunter smiled at him.

“Okay, all the time.” Chris’ lips turned up into a small smile. “But it’s still locked.”

“I’ll try the back door.”

“Be careful.”

“You got a feelin’.”

“Yeah.”

“So do I.”

Chris moved to the window and peeked in. What he saw surprised him. Ezra Standish was sitting in one of the jail cells. The gambler was talking; either to himself or to someone that was with him. Chris knew it wasn’t one of the seven. Something was wrong. He stepped back to the door and slammed his fist against it. He was answered with a bullet tearing a hole in the door close to his face.

“Shit!”

Something was defiantly wrong. Why would Ezra be in a cell? An unknown assailant had just shot at him for some unknown reason.

“You stay away from here! Try to come in here and your friend’s a dead man! You hear me!?”

“Who the hell is that?” Vin asked as he walked around the building and stepped up onto the boardwalk.

“You think I know.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

The man yelled out to them again.

“You deaf out there?”

“I heard you.” Chris yelled back at him.

“Then why are you still standing there?”

“What do you want with Ezra?”

“That’s none of your business, it’s between me and him.” Mortimer answered.

“He’s our friend, so it’s our business.”

There was silence for a few minutes. Chris and Vin turned when they heard the others running toward them. Chris had to put out a hand to stop them from joining them at the door to the jailhouse.

“I believe he killed my son and when he admits to it, I’m going to kill him.”

“Why would you think he killed your son?”

“He’s a gambler who cheats and he matches the description and age.”

“So on that information you think he’s your man?”

“Yes but he’s going to remember what he did and admit to it before I kill him.” there was a slight pause.
“Unless you attempt to rescue him, then he’ll die anyway.”

“I’m not going to leave.”

Another gunshot sounded which resulted in a cry of pain. Chris rushed to the window to search for the source. He saw Ezra withering in pain on the floor of his cell.

“The next one will kill him!”

“If you kill him, you’ll be dead before he hits the ground.”

“Yes I will be and it will be by my own bullet because I plan on dying after I have my revenge.”

“We’re going!”

“Come back and he’s a dead man.”

Chris and Vin walked away and joined the others in the middle of the street. A small crowd was already beginning to grow. They wanted to know what was going on. So did the remaining four hired lawmen.

“What’s going on?” Buck demanded to know.

“Some crazy guy has Ezra in there, thinks Ezra killed his son, wants his vengeance.”

“And the two gunshots?” Josiah questioned him.

“One was a warning for me, the other . . . he shot Ezra in the shoulder.”

“Why are we still standing here then?”

“He has both doors locked, he’ll hear us if we try to get in. He said he would kill Ezra if we did.”

“Then what are we going to do?” JD stood beside Buck.

“I’ll think of something, give me some time.”

“Ezra might not have time.” Nathan warned him. “Which shoulder?”

“Right.” Chris pointed to his own shoulder.

“He’ll could die of blood loss, if not the wound could get infected. He doesn’t have a lot of time Chris.”

“I know that Nathan, but I need time to think.”

“Think fast Chris!”

________________________________________

Ezra lay on his left side, his green eyes glaring at the man who had shot him. He didn’t have to do that, there was no need. Chris wouldn’t have come in, not yet anyway. Now Ezra was stuck here, a bullet in his shoulder - he couldn’t feel any pain in his back so he knew the bullet was still in there - a crazy old man who thought he had killed his son, and friends that weren’t in a hurry to rescue him.

“Did you really have to do that?” Ezra asked him.

“They wouldn’t leave, had to do something.” Mortimer shrugged.

“You didn’t have to shoot me!” Ezra growled.

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have asked him nicely.”

Mortimer smiled, for someone who had killed his son he was a likable person. He shook the thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t like this man, he had murdered his only child.

“I enjoyed shooting you more.” the smile turned into a snarl.

“I didn’t enjoy it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I’m going to bleed to death here you know, and the bullet is still in there.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to do something about it.”

“Why would I think that.”

Ezra struggled as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, he then pushed himself up onto the bed and laid down. It was the only thing he could think of doing. He closed his eyes against the pain, the warm blood flowing from the wound soaked into his clothing. Ezra tried to steady his breathing, to concentrate and take one steady breath at a time. If he could think of something else, something that would take his mind off the pain.

Mortimer watched as the man he wanted to kill, lie down on the bed, he was unsure of what the gambler was doing. Ezra, that was his name, closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. The chest rose and lowered itself as it let out a breath, the movement was slow. What was he trying to do, breath the pain away.

“You think that’s going to help?”

“It’s better than nothing.”

Mortimer shrugged and walked over to the window next to the front door. He could see Ezra’s friends watching from the other side of the street. He didn’t think he was going to have to worry about them for a while but he had to do what he wanted quickly, they weren’t going to stay on that side of the street for very long.

“My son would be twenty nine if he was still alive. Carl was a good kid, didn’t get into any trouble. Thought he was doing the right thing when he accused the man of cheating. He wasn’t the only one that was losing a lot of money, he wouldn’t have cared otherwise. The gambler didn’t like what he’d been accused of. Gunned my son down.”

“And you think that gambler was me?”

“Like I told your friend, you fit the description.”

“Doesn’t mean I did it.”

“You cheat when you gamble, you con people out of their money . . . “

“I use to, I don’t do that anymore.”

Mortimer turned around and looked at the young man. It was an admittance he didn’t expect, maybe this was going to be over quicker than he thought.

“I only kill in self defence and that’s if there is no other choice. I can usually talk my way out of things. My gun is my last resort.” Ezra moved his head to the side and looked at man standing by the window. “What’s your name?”

“Mortimer Johnson, my son was Carl Johnson. We lived in Bakersville. You been there?”

“How long ago did it happen?”

“Five years ago.”

“At the moment I can’t remember what I did last week.” Ezra mumbled and returned his gaze the ceiling above him.

“Gambler, fancy dresser,” Mortimer moved to the cell bars and stared at the man lying on the bed. The blood was already soaking through the jacket, "good-looking, brown hair, green eyes, about twenty five but he would be thirty now. How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“Were you in Bakersville five years ago?”

“I don’t know.” Ezra said seriously.

“You cheated back then when you played cards?” Mortimer went and grabbed the chair behind the desk and pulled it the cell, he sat down and made himself more comfortable.

“Already told you I did, I don’t do it now.”

“Doesn’t matter what you do now, it matters what you did then.”

“I don’t commit murder.”

“The man also had a Southern accent.” Mortimer lied.

He had to use what he had to get the man to confess, he would even lie. He wasn’t going to live much longer, he needed to put his need for revenge to rest. The old man knew he couldn’t die without revenging his son’s death. It had come to the point where he would convince an innocent man that he was guilty. All gamblers were the same, if it wasn’t this one, it was one just like him.

“There are plenty of Southern gamblers.” Ezra retorted.

Mortimer decided to use the letter that he had read. “Are there many who work with their mothers.” he saw the reaction and knew he was right about lying, he was going to get a confession, he knew it now.

“The man you’re talking about worked with his mother?” Ezra swallowed and took a deep breath, he grimaced at the pain it caused.

“This gambler did.”

Ezra knew it couldn’t be him, he never killed anyone in cold blood, even though he couldn’t remember that far back he knew he would never do that.

“You worked with your mother?”

“Yes.” Ezra whispered.

“You killed my son.”

“No.”

“You're a liar as well as a cheat.” Mortimer accused him.

“Did you know that I’m one of the men who were hired to protect this town?” Ezra sat up, the position he was in wasn’t helping much, and he wanted to look at the man he was talking to. He shifted his back against the wall and felt a river of blood flow down his chest.

“I don’t think that matters, do you?”

“No I suppose not, it doesn’t matter what I do now, it’s what I did then, isn’t that what you said.”

Wasn’t it always, it didn’t matter how much he’d changed, people still believed that he was capable of cheating, that he did cheat and was willing to con any rich man who entered town out of his money. He didn’t cheat and he didn’t con. He wished people would trust him to do the right thing.

“That’s right.”

“I didn’t kill your son.”

“How do you know?” Ezra was stunned by the question. “You said it yourself that you can’t even remember what you did last week.”

“I don’t have to remember, I know I wouldn’t shoot anyone in cold blood.”

“How many people have you killed?”

“What?”

“You heard the question, the bump on the head didn’t affect your hearing.”

“I don’t know.”

“That many huh?” Mortimer wondered how many other sons this man had killed. He himself had killed in self-defence once and he still carried that man’s face and name in his memory, he would never forget him.

“Self defence . . . “

“That’s bull shit, you probably killed when someone came after you for cheating. Of course, they would have to use some force. You call that self defence, I call that making them make the first move, that way you can call self defence after you killed them but it really wasn’t the case was it.”

“No it wasn’t the case. If I kill someone it’s because they were trying to kill me, or someone else.”

“My son was doing neither!” Mortimer almost shouted.

“I didn’t kill your son.” Ezra repeated.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Your mind has been distorted by the hate and need for revenge, you don’t know what you’re thinking anymore.”

“It’s not what I think, it’s what I know.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know you killed my son.”

“I didn’t kill him.”

“We’re you in Bakersville five years ago?”

“No.”

Ezra closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. He needed Nathan, needed his help. If only he had stayed . . . stayed where. He couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember. His pain filled features frowned, he had to remember.

“What’s the matter, you remember.”

“No, shoulder hurts.”

“It’s going to hurt for a while, unless you admit your guilt.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“How do you know?”

“You always repeat your questions.”

“Thought you were forgetful.”

“That’s why you keep asking them twice?”

“No.”

Ezra just nodded. He was becoming tired, he didn’t want to talk anymore. Why was this happening to him. Because it was his way of life, it didn’t matter that he’d changed, people still came looking for him. He was certain that he didn’t kill this man’s son. He’d never murdered anyone in his entire life. Killed; yes, but it was always self-defence and now he often killed to protect others when their lives were being threatened.

“You tired?”

“You think! You shot me, I’m bleeding, and of course I’m tired.”

“Don’t forget the bump on the head.”

“And I have a headache.”

Mortimer smiled. “Do you always complain so much?”

“No, usually people tell me to shut up before I even have the . . .“

“Shut up.” Mortimer told him.

“See, no one ever lets me finish what I’m trying to say.”

“How come you changed the way you live?” Mortimer was curious as to what made this man stop his cheating ways and become a lawman instead.

“I made a mistake . . . someone gave me a second chance. There was also the fact that I was offered a pardon for my services.”

“So it was for your own health.”

“At first. It was only for a month but that was over a year ago. I could have left then but I decided to give it some more time. Made some friends, learnt what it was like to give to others instead of taking. I care about my friends and they care about me. I’ve never had that before. I enjoyed the feeling. It’s what’s kept me here for so long.”

“You have a mother. Didn’t she care about you?” Mortimer frowned at him. He couldn’t see the green eyes, they were still hidden behind closed eyelids.

“My mother. She taught me everything I know about gambling, cheating and conning. Nothing else though, nothing about friends, family, caring. All of the things that a mother is supposed to teach her child.”

“What about love?”

Ezra opened his eyes to find Mortimer staring at him. “I don’t know what it is. My mother doesn’t really love me, has never shown me what it is. It’s as though I’m her apprentice, brought into this world so she could teach me what she knew and carry on the business after she died. She comes to visit me and each time she does, she does something that will enhance my skills. She says that I will become rusty, that I need to practice.”

“My wife was a wonderful mother . . .”

“Is she here in town?”

“No, she died a few years back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Yes I am.”

“Do you have a father?”

“I never knew him.” he closed his eyes again, he no longer liked the look he saw in the old man’s eyes. It was disturbing, unnatural.

“Did he die when you were young?”

“I don’t really know.”

“I’m sorry about that. I man should know his father.”

“I never told anyone about this stuff before.”

“Not even your friends.”

“No. That was another thing my mother taught me. You have to keep your emotions to yourself. Don’t get close to anyone. Look after number one. My mother lives by the same rule. Do you know what it’s like when you mother tells you to look after number one. I’m number two to her, she’ll always come first. Not her only child.”

“I would have given my life for my son.”

“I don’t think my mother would.”

“A parent should. A child should never die before their parents.”

“How did your wife react to your son’s death.”

“She died with him. It sounds stupid I know . . .”

“No it doesn’t, she gave birth to him, brought him into this world and took care of him for twenty five years. Of course she would die with him.”

“She didn’t want me to go after the person who did it, said that it wasn’t want Carl would want.”

“So why did you?”

“I was angry, my son died for no reason, the murderer got away. There wasn’t any justice served so I decided to serve it myself.”

“But you don’t know who did it.” Ezra had enough, he could no longer sit up, his strength was draining from his body and so was his life. He allowed himself to fall onto his side and groaned at the pain that shot through his shoulder.

“I think you did it.”

Ezra noticed that Mortimer no longer had confidence in his statement, it had changed. He was no longer sure that the gambler in front of him had killed his son.

“I didn’t kill him Mortimer, I don’t kill people.”

“I’ve been looking for five years. There were other times when I thought I had found him.”

“What happened?” he could feel his body becoming weaker, it was as though something was sapping his strength.

“I don’t really know, something in me said they didn’t do it.”

“What does that something say about me”

‘That you didn’t do it.’ Mortimer thought to himself. ‘But I need to finish this before I die.’

“Mortimer?”

“I’m going to fix that shoulder up for you.”

“Why don’t you just let Nathan do it.”

“No, we haven’t finished yet. I just don’t want you dying before you confess.”

“Confess to what?” the darkness that was approaching caused his mind to lose focus on what was happening around him. He was no longer sure what was happening to him.

“Why don’t you go to sleep, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“Not if Nathan gives me one of those drinks.” Ezra opened one eye to see who he was talking to. “You're not Josiah.”

“Go to sleep Ezra.”

Mortimer waited until he was sure the gambler was sleeping. He got the key and opened the door to the cell. His right hand nudged the sleeping man’s shoulder, he received no response. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the jacket away from the shoulder. The vest was next. The buttons were torn off and the shirt pulled away from the congealing blood. A hiss of pain reached his ears and he waited until he was sure Ezra wasn’t going to wake up. Mortimer manoeuvred his hand under the clothing and underneath the body. There was no exit wound. He was grateful, it meant that he didn’t have to move him.

A fire was started in the stove, water was boiled, a sharp knife was sterilised and hands washed. There wasn’t anything he could really use as a bandage, only the shirt on Ezra’s back. When he was ready, the old man moved back to the bed. He noticed that Ezra hadn’t changed positions. This had to be done quickly, if he woke up, it would be difficult for him to hold him down while trying to remove the bullet.

He pressed his fingers against the wound to see if he could feel the bullet, he couldn’t. That meant it was in deep, he was going to have to dig for it. He gritted his teeth and cut the wound open. The man beneath the knife arched his back against the pain but didn’t wake. Mortimer used his fingers to separate the flesh as far as he could, the back arched even higher as the form tried to move away from him. He put one knee on Ezra’s chest and put his weight on it. As the knife searched the wound for the bullet, Mortimer had to press harder into the gambler’s chest with his knee. It took a couple of minutes for him to find the object that had been fired from his gun. He removed it and began to clean the wound.

Ezra had settled but his head moved side to side while he sterilised the wound. He then used the bloodied knife to cut the shirt from Ezra’s back and tore it into strips. Now he had to lift him off the bed so he could wrap the chest with strips of material. When he finished he placed his hand against the forehead and felt a fever building. He pulled the waistcoat and jacket closed.

Why was he doing this. He was no longer sure that this man had killed his son. What if he was innocent like the others. He couldn’t kill him, he couldn’t be responsible for his death. That would make him a murderer. No, he needed more time to sort this out but his friends were outside, he didn’t have a lot of time.

________________________________________

“Vin, I want you to find a good position, shoot him as soon as you see him through the window.”

“That’s your plan?” Buck smiled in surprise. “That’s what we always do. Why’d it take you so long to come up with that?”

“Shut up Buck, this is serious.”

“I know that Chris, just thought I’d ask that’s all.”

“Ask later.”

“Sure will.”

“The rest of us will go in as soon as the shot is fired.”

“Now that’s a good plan.” Buck added.

“Buck!”

“Think Vin will hit his mark.”

“Shut up Buck.” Vin growled at him. “I can hit him, my aims better than yours.”

“With a gun, yes . . . “ Buck let the rest sink in before he received a smack across the head from JD.

“Let’s get into position.”

________________________________________

Mortimer watched as the group of men split up, they were up to something but he didn’t know what. He did expect them to try something, they wouldn’t leave their wounded friend in here to die.

“Don’t go near the windows.” Ezra warned him when he saw Mortimer was about to put his upper body into a position that would allow Vin to shoot him.

“What?”

“Vin would be in a position that would allow him to shoot you when you show yourself.”

“Why are you tellin’ me this.”

“Same reason you took the bullet out of my shoulder.” Ezra smiled.

“Just didn’t want you to die before you admitted to killing my son.” Mortimer growled.

“That’s what you say. You don’t want to kill me.”

“Why not?”

“Because you know I didn’t kill your son.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I can see it in your eyes.”

“You can read my eyes?” Mortimer frowned and tried to hide what he was thinking and feeling.

“I can read anyone, it’s part of what I use to do. It comes in handy when you’re part of the law enforcement.

“Then why am I keeping you here instead of letting you go.”

“You don’t have anywhere else to go, I’m your last chance.” Ezra wanted to sit up, he used his good arm and pushed with what strength he had left. It took him a few minutes but he made it. He looked at Mortimer who was staring back at him. “Your dying aren't' you?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Your repeating yourself.”

“Just answer the damn question!” Mortimer grunted.

“I can see . . . “

“It in your eyes.” Mortimer finished for Ezra.

Ezra nodded. “Can I have some water please?”

“You want something to eat as well?”

“Where are you going to get food?” Ezra questioned him.

“I’d have to open the door wouldn’t I.”

“Yes you would.”

“I’ll get you some water.”

“Thank you.”

Ezra watched Mortimer practically crawl across the floor to get to the pitcher of water. Once the cup was full, the old man crept back to the cell. The Southerner could see the pain in the eyes as old bones did things they hadn’t done in a while.

Mortimer unlocked the cell and instead of standing up, he stayed in the position he was in. He was afraid to stand, the pain that would erupt through his body would be unbearable. His bones were old and fragile, not young and strong like they once were. No, he didn’t have a lot of time left.

Ezra took the water that was handed up to him and drank. The water was warm but he didn’t care, it would ease his dry mouth and force the strong thirst away for a period of time.

“Are you ill?” he dropped the cup on the bed and leaned his head against the wall.

“No.”

“Then what makes you think you’re dying?” Ezra was confused, he read death in the man’s eyes but he wasn’t ill.

“I know my time’s almost up, I can feel it. The body isn’t the same, neither is the mind. I just know that I don’t have a lot of time left.”

“So you’ve convinced yourself that you’re going to die.” Ezra growled, he couldn’t help it. The man was thinking himself to death. If he believed it, then it would happen. He’d seen it before.

“The only think that I’ve convinced myself of is that you killed my son.” Mortimer snapped at him.

“Uh huh,” Ezra nodded, “there is no proof, no admittance of guilt so you’re trying to find something that will allow you to say I’m guilty so you can kill me without feeling any remorse.”

“You killed him.” he muttered.

“No I didn’t Mortimer.”

“But I have to find his killer before I die, I won’t rest if I don’t.”

“You’re not going to find him Mortimer, you know that.” Ezra leaned forward and ignoring his body’s pain, he rested his arm on the man’s shoulder. “You should be at rest now, spend your last days doing the things your son would want you to do.”

“If I did that I would fail him. I have to find his killer, for Carl.”

“Now you’re making excuses. Your son wouldn’t want you to spend your life like this.”

“You don’t know what my son would want.”

“Then you tell me what he would have wanted.”

Mortimer twisted around and looked into the green eyes that told him this man was innocent. “I . . . don’t know.”

“Yes you do, what would he want you to do?”

“Carl was a good kid, always happy, didn’t have a bad bone in his body, forgave everybody for anything . . . “
“And?” Ezra pushed.

“He wouldn’t want me to do this.” Mortimer whispered but Ezra still heard him.

Ezra fell back against the wall. “Now what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’ve still got some time, you can use it to think.” Ezra told him. “In the meantime, I'm going to get some rest.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. You think, I’ll sleep.” the gambler lay down. “And Mortimer . . . don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m sorry I shot you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve had worse.”

“You don’t seem to be so forgetful.”

“No . . . “

Mortimer nodded, this person seemed to be a good man, even if his past had been full of deceit and trickery.

“I know now that you didn’t kill my son.”

“Thank you.” Ezra mumbled.

“For what?”

“Believing me . . . not everyone does that . . . “

Mortimer grimaced as he strained to hear the words as the gambler drifted off to sleep. The jailhouse became silent and lonely. Talking to Ezra made him realise how much he’d missed having friends that he could talk to. Most of all he missed his wife, he didn’t spend her last years with her and it was something that he always regretted; more than not finding the man who’d killed his son.

His eyes searched the window for any sign of the six men who wanted their friend back. If he did stand in front of the window, would they really shoot him? He’d shot the gambler, of course they would shoot him. In their minds, he was a man that wanted their friend dead and they would do what they could to protect him.
Protect him like he should have protected his son and wife. He could protect his only child while he was alive and now he couldn’t even do the simple task of finding his killer. But it wasn’t simple, it would take more than a lifetime to find the killer, time that he no longer had. A few months, that was all he had, he knew it in his heart. Was he going to spend that time alone, live with the guilt that had been eating away at him. No, that was something he couldn’t do.

________________________________________

Ezra blinked his eyes trying to clear the confusion in his mind. He had to think, needed to think. Everything was a blur and he wasn’t able to find anything clear enough to remind him what was going on around him. The room he was in wasn’t his, he turned his head to the right, a brick wall. The jail house, what was he doing here. His head then turned to his left. The old man staring at him brought back some of the memories.

“Mortimer?”

“You don’t look very well.” the worry was written all over his face, he would have to let his friends get to him or he was going to die. The last he needed before he died was the death of an innocent man on his mind, he didn’t want to take that to his grave.

“I feel better than I look.” Ezra smiled.

“I’ve decided what I’m going to do.”

“Give me a minute and you can tell me all about it.”

“I don’t have a minute Ezra, besides, you’ll probably try and stop me.”

“Stop you from what? Are you leaving?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you going?”

“Ezra, I want to apologise for what I put you through, none of this was your fault, and I found you out on that road after you fell from your horse. I read the letter from your mother, that’s how I knew. I needed to blame someone for my son’s death, I was running out of time and as far as I was concerned the next gambler I found was going to be the one whether he was guilty or not.”

“You wouldn’t have killed an innocent man Mortimer.” Ezra assured him.

“I shot you, it would only be one more step to kill you.”

“You wouldn’t have, you don’t have it in you.”

Mortimer hung his head. “I’m going now Ezra, it was nice to have a conversation before I left. You’re a good man Ezra, I hope you know that. Good bye.”

“Wait and I’ll let them know you’re leaving . . . “

“That won’t be necessary Ezra.”

Ezra watched, first with confusion then sudden dread when he realised what Mortimer was about to do.

“NO!” he struggled to get off the bed but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get to Mortimer in time to stop him.

Mortimer stepped in front of the window and raised his gun. He heard a gunshot and felt the sudden pain as the bullet entered his chest. This was it he thought, he was about to die without fulfilling his life’s goal. The only thing that made it easy for him was that he knew he was about to join his wife and son.

Ezra fell to his knees beside the body and forced the pain away as he lifted Mortimer into his arms. “Why?”

“What else . . . was I going . . . to do . . . “

“You could have stayed here, we would have taken care of you.”

“No . . . couldn’t be . . . a . . . burden.”

“Mortimer . . . “ Ezra waited until he had his attention, “I killed your son.”

“No you didn’t . . . “

“Yes I did.” Ezra continued the lie. “I’m a con man remember, I can make you believe anything.”

“You’re lying . . . I know you are . . . just trying . . . to make it . . . easier for . . . me.”

“You can’t die like this.” Ezra heard the door burst open. “GET OUT!”

Chris and the others were stunned at the reaction they received from the gambler.

“GET OUT!”

Chris motioned to the others to leave, he stood in the doorway and watched the scene unfold before him.

“They’re . . . your friends Ezra.”

“They didn’t have to shoot you!”

“What else were . . . they going to . . . do . . . they didn’t know.”

“Shit Mortimer.”

“I know.”

Mortimer’s eyes glazed over and he let out his last breath. Ezra lowered him to the ground and used a trembling hand to close his eyes. He would make sure he received a decent funeral, it’s what he deserved after what he’d been through. He would have returned his body to his hometown to be buried with his wife and son but no one would be there to take care of him. He was sure Mortimer wouldn’t mind. It didn’t matter where you buried. If there were life after death, he would be with his family.

Ezra felt a hand on his shoulder and shrugged it off. “You didn’t have to kill him.”

“We thought he was going to kill you Ezra.” Chris told him.

Ezra lifted his head and looked up at his friend. “Sorry.”

Chris nodded and helped Ezra to his feet. “Come on, let’s get Nathan to have a look at that shoulder.”

“He walked in front of the window on purpose Chris, knew Vin would shoot him, I told him Vin would. He wanted to die.”

“We can talk about it later Ezra.” he pulled Ezra towards the door but Ezra hesitated. “He needs to be looked after, he’s been alone, and I don’t want him to stay that way.”

“You knew him?”

“No, only met him today.”

“I’ll take care of him for you Ezra.” Josiah patted him on the shoulder and walked to the dead man.

“He just needed a friend Josiah.”

“It’s okay Ezra, he’ll be fine.”

Ezra walked away from Mortimer Johnson out onto the boardwalk. The rest of the seven were there waiting for him.

“You didn’t have to kill him Vin.” Ezra muttered as he walked past him.

“Ezra, here, let me have a look at that shoulder.” Nathan walked after him.

“It’s fine Nathan, Mortimer took the bullet out.”

Nathan nodded. “So what did you do to this one, cheat his son out of his money.”

Ezra turned, his fist clenched as tightly as his jaw. Nathan always accused him of doing something that resulted in the trouble that had found him. He’d always kept his mouth shut before thinking that it was a waste of time trying to explain his personality and that he didn’t cheat, or force men into playing against him.

But he didn’t want to talk now, to explain what happened so he used his fists instead. He used his left fist first knowing that the right shoulder would be too painful. The force of the blow didn’t knock the healer off his feet so Ezra hit him again. His anger was growing with each physical blow. He didn’t notice that Nathan was refusing to defend himself. Ezra continued to lash out at Nathan until someone finally dragged him away from the bruised and bloodied Jackson.

“Ezra! Leave him be, he didn’t do anything to you.”

Ezra forced them to let him go, he stepped forward and glared at Nathan with eyes full of anger and disgust.
“Don’t you ever, accuse me of doing something like that without any proof that I’m guilty! Do you understand me! I’m sick of you assuming that I did something every time I get into some trouble! That’s not the case and it’s about time you understood that! I don’t live my life like that anymore.”

“Take it easy Ezra,” Nathan wiped the blood from his cut lip, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Yes you did, you always do Nathan!”

“I’m sorry Ezra.”

“No you’re not, you wouldn’t say it if you didn’t mean it!”

“Ezra,” Chris took him by the arm and began to lead him away from Nathan, “you need that shoulder taken care of.”

“I’m fine.” Ezra growled and pulled his arm from Chris’ grip. “I’m going to help Josiah with Mortimer.”

“Ezra!” Chris warned him. He was willing to forcefully take the man to Nathan’s clinic and throw him on the bed and tie him to it.

“I don’t want to hear it Chris, not now.” Ezra walked away from then knowing that he would be stopped before he made it to the door. He was stopped but by a different force; his body. It gave in to the blood loss and physical abuse and collapsed in a heap in the street.

________________________________________

When he woke, again, his memory was working fine, he remembered what happened, the feelings he felt for Mortimer were strong. The man had been a good family man, a father who had loved his son, a husband who had adored and cherished his wife. But fate had taken over by killing his son, the life he led change dramatically causing him to also lose his wife. He’d spent his final years full of anger and revenge as he searched the country for his son’s murderer. It had ended with the old man killing himself.

Ezra opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling above him. He didn’t blame himself, there would have been nothing he could have said or done to change Mortimer’s mind. Johnson’s mind had been corrupted to the point where he could no longer think straight.

A suntanned, rugged face appeared above his, his own green eyes shifted so he could return Chris’ stare. He suddenly felt a deep sorrow fill him at the sight of this man.

“Chris . . . “

“Yeah Ezra, it’s me.” Chris sat back down in the chair he’d spent the night in.

“Promise me, you won’t end up like that.” Ezra turned his head to the side so he could continue to look at his friend.

“Like what Ezra?” Chris frowned at him.

“A man who’s only thought is to find the person responsible for his family’s death. That you won’t spend what time, you have searching for them. Be full of anger, hate and the need for revenge. Promise me Chris.”

“I promise Ezra.” Chris bit his lip. “Is that what he was like?”

Ezra nodded. “There was still some good him but he lost everything . . . that shouldn’t happen to anyone, especially you . . . “

“I’ve got too much to lose Ezra, got friends that mean too much to me, don’t want to lose that.”

Ezra nodded again. “He thought I killed his son.” he waited for Chris to ask him if he had.

“You didn’t, even back then you wouldn’t kill anyone unless you had to, you’re not that kind of person Ezra.”

“I know.”

“You never were, he saw that in the end didn’t he?”

“So he said.” Ezra lifted his left arm and touched the area of his skull that had hit the ground. “Wasn’t sure there for a while though, I couldn’t remember if I’d been to Bakersville or not.”

“You didn’t do it Ezra.”

“I’ve been to Bakersville, I remember now, five years ago, that’s when his son was killed.”

“You didn’t do it Ezra.” Chris repeated more firmly.

“What if I did Chris? What if it was different to what he was told? I don’t know anymore.”

“You didn’t do it Ezra.”

“Chris, I’m not forgetful anymore, you don’t have to keep repeating yourself.”

“And I’ll keep saying it until you agree with me Ezra.”

Then we’ll be here all day.

“How’s Nathan?”

“He’ll be fine.” Chris smiled at him. "What did he say to you?”

“Asked what I did to him, if I’d cheated him out of his money.”

“Stupid thing to say.” Chris agreed.

“I didn’t want to keep quiet this time.”

“That’s okay, sounds like he deserved it.”

“I’m not going to apologise for what I did.”

“You don’t have to Ezra.”

“Thanks.”

“Want a drink?”

“Not that stuff that Nathan makes.” Ezra grimaced at the thought of the taste.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a libation.” he smiled at Ezra’s frown and leaned over, he returned to his upright position holding a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “The good stuff.”

“What would Nathan say.” Ezra smiled.

“We don’t care.” Chris poured two shots while Ezra shifted himself into a better drinking position. “Here’s to Mortimer.”

“Mortimer Johnson,” Ezra added, “and to a promise.”

“To a promise.” Chris agreed.



The End





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