He watched the prison escorts carefully. His only opportunity to escape would come in the next few minutes when the two guards stopped to water their horses. The trip from Tentafield to the territory prison was about eight hours so the trio would probably only pause the once to rest the animals. His men would know that. They should be watching and waiting. Ready to affect his escape.

"Let’s water the horses here," the senior guard stated, coaxing his mount across to the river that had been their constant companion for the past two hours.

The younger guard, who had been leading the prisoner’s horse, nodded and followed his superior. "We gonna stop for a while, Max?"

"No. I want to get this one safely locked away."

"He ain’t gonna give us any trouble. Are ya?" the young man teased. The prisoner glared at the youth with such undiluted hatred that the youth shuddered.

"Leave him, Paul. Just water your horse and let’s get on our way."

‘He’ watched as the two unsuspecting men dismounted and walked toward the edge of the river. Once they both had their backs to him he allowed his eyes to scan the area. Where were they? As if in answer to his unvoiced question, there was a volley of shots. The two guards tumbled into the river, their corpses floating away from the bank.

"Rest in hell," the prisoner snarled with satisfaction.

Moments later, several men on horses approached.

"You alright, Sir?"

"Cut me loose, Radly," the former convict ordered harshly. As the bonds fell from his hands he began to rub his chaffed wrists.

"We can be over the border in a couple of hours, Sir," another of his men offered.

"No. I have some unfinished business that needs taking care of." The men gathered around their ferret faced leader, glancing at each other uneasily.

"Sir?"

"I am going to make them pay!"

"Who?"

"Those seven guns from Four Corners!"

**********

"I ain’t gonna sit here and listen to this, Buck. There ain’t one word of truth in it," J.D. objected. The other five men at the table were grinning.

"Truth!" Buck bellowed. "You have the hide to mention the truth! You’re the one who told that fella that we was..."

"Shut-up, Buck, I mean it!" The saloon was full this afternoon. It had been a hot day and even now as the sun began its arc to the west, there was still an uncomfortable heat in the air.

Josiah raised an eyebrow. "Now, just what exactly did you say you and Buck were?"

"Don’t start, Josiah. I ain’t in the mood."

Buck continued to grin at his uncomfortable friend. The fact that the entire front of J.D.’s shirt was plastered with molasses was only part of the story.

Ezra winked at Vin and then turned to the boy. "Now, let me see if I have ascertained the situation correctly. You, Mr. Dunne and Mr. Wilmington both..."

"That’s it, I’m outta here," J.D. snapped, rising to his feet.

"Sit down, Kid," Vin stated softly. "Reckon that’s about enough boys," he added. Vin never usually presumed to make such ‘suggestions’, but Chris was out of town and Vin could see that the joke had moved from funny to hurtful.

"I don’t need you protecting me like I’m some sort of kid that can’t..." J.D.’s voice faded out. Tanner’s eyes had narrowed. J.D. wasn’t sure if it was surprise, hurt, anger or curiosity. The youth sighed. He was attacking Vin for no reason. The youth was angry with Buck but that didn’t give him the right to take it out on anyone else.

It was only then that Buck realized that he had pushed too far. "Sorry, Kid," the scoundrel stated. J.D. eyed his big friend and finally sank back into his seat. Apology accepted. Normally, Buck’s good-natured ribbing didn’t worry the boy, but today... well, it was hot and J.D. was tired, sticky and uncomfortable.

"So can we expect Mr. Larabee back tomorrow when the gold shipment passes through town?" Ezra asked Vin, acknowledging the fact that it was time to change the topic.

Tanner nodded, his eyes flicking around the room to see if anyone had heard the gambler’s statement. It was no secret that Guilford Mining was sending their gold through to Denver, but Vin didn’t like the thought of it being advertised to anyone and everyone.

"And the wagon is supposed to come through here around three tomorrow?"

Again Vin nodded.

"And I take it that you and Mr. Larabee have worked out some sort of strategic plan in the unlikely event that someone actually tires to pilfer the treasure wagon on its journey through Four Corners?"

A single bob of the head.

"Are you purposing to divulge this information or are we supposed to determine your contrivance through osmosis?"

The tracker’s head bounced slightly from side to side.

Ezra rolled his eyes. "I declare, having a conversation with you is about as stimulating as partaking in a discourse with a carbuncle."

The left side of Vin’s mouth twitched into an amused smile. Vin Tanner was a man of very few words. He only spoke when there was good reason to.

"Chris out at his cabin?" Nathan asked.

Vin nodded.

"He leave this morning?"

The customary nod.

"Mr. Tanner, the good Lord saw fit to provide you with vocal chords so I feel it only befitting that you utilize them from time to time."

Vin started to open his mouth but stopped. His eyes took on an intenseness that echoed a thousand silent messages. The other men froze. They had been riding with Tanner long enough to recognize that look. Something was wrong. Vin’s nose twitched, that particular sense warning him. Abruptly, he rose out of his chair. "GET EVERYONE OUTTA HERE!"

The other occupants at the table leapt to their feet.

"Everyone out!" Josiah boomed. He had no idea of what was wrong, but Vin had just raised his voice and Vin only did that when all hell was about to break loose.

"Vin?" Buck called, as he dragged a drunk out of a chair and sent him barreling toward the door. "Vin, what is it?"

Tanner was rushing from table to table glancing underneath them. "Gunpowder. Get everyone out and back!"

Buck nodded and dragged another drunk to his feet. Gunpowder? In the saloon? "Come on, and that includes you, Vin!" the scoundrel called back to his young friend as he hastened out onto the veranda, an almost comatose drinker slung over his shoulder. Vin scanned the now mostly empty room. Nathan and Josiah had already reached safety. J.D. was just disappearing out into the street pushing the barkeep in front of him. Ezra was forcing two disgruntled drinkers toward the door. That only left old Sam seated at the bar.

"Come on, Sam!" Vin thundered, racing to the old miner’s side. But Sam was not about to be thrown out of the saloon without a fight.

"Bugger off. I ain’t finished my drink."

"Sam, we’ve got to get outta here! Now!" Vin yelled, struggling to pull the seasoned and considerably drunk man to his feet. The old miner, who outweighed Vin by a good 50 pounds, wrestled the trim tracker swearing at the top of his lungs. This was far from the first time someone had tried to force him from his drinking stool before closing time.

Outside, Buck could hear Sam’s ranting. "Dammit!" The scoundrel took two strides toward the saloon when an explosion ripped through the building, sending the mustached man retreating without his consent. Glass from the windows shattered outwards and rained down on the mob that had all been thrown to the ground by the force of the blast.

As the sound of the explosion echoed away, Buck, along with everyone else, began to drag himself to his feet, too stunned to comprehend what had just happened.

For a split second there was silence. The mob stood staring at the inferno directly in front of them as they tried to clear their minds and crystalize their thoughts.

"VIN!" five voices shouted at once. All five raced up the stairs, ignoring the heat from the fire that was raging inside. Smoke and flames filled the room. Tables and chairs were strewn everywhere from the power of the explosion.

"There!" J.D. shouted pointing. The other men strained to see through the thick haze. Sam was lying on his side, a huge splinter of wood protruding from his chest. It was clear from the outset, that the likeable layabout was dead. Only two feet from him, hidden under a pile of wood and debris, was Vin. The tracker was face down, a large wooden girder that had once supported the ceiling, lay across his back.

Holding their breaths, the five regulators rushed to their fallen companion’s side.

**********

Chris wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. He had been sawing and erecting fence posts all day. The corral was beginning to take shape, the gunfighter noted with satisfaction. Both Vin and Buck had offered to come out and give him a hand, but he had declined. This was something that he wanted to do on his own. He didn’t know why, he just did. His two best friends had understood, neither pushing the point.

Moving further along the tree trunk, Chris placed the saw in place and... a strange feeling washed over him. The gunfighter paused. His gut lurched. Chris lowered the saw. Was it the heat? Was he just tired? Or...

**********

The inside of the saloon was ablaze, the heat singeing and destroying everything within its reach. Flames licked the walls and were creeping toward the bottles of alcohol that lined the wall behind the bar. Once they reached there, the bottles that had not been shattered in the initial explosion would explode and fuel the fire.

"Nathan you drag Vin out when we lift this thing!" Buck managed to choke out. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see, not to mention breathe.

Another beam crashed to the floor only feet from the group of men crowded around their fallen companion. The roof groaned loudly.

"The whole place is about to collapse!" Josiah shouted.

"On three," Buck called.

"Three!" Ezra screamed. They no longer had time for anything else. The men strained to heave the heavy beam off their unconscious friend. It didn’t move. The roof creaked again.

"It’s too heavy!" J.D. shrieked. For one terrible moment he feared they might not be able to shift the girder. If they couldn’t shift it, it would mean that...

"Again!" Buck yelled. There was no way any of them were going to leave the room unless Vin was with them.

"Three!" Muscles strained. The beam moved only three inches, but it was enough. Nathan gripped Vin’s shoulders and slid the tracker out from under the massive piece of timber. By the time Vin was safely clear, the men had begun coughing, their eyes streaming with tears.

Josiah turned, dragged Vin into a sitting position and then hoisted his smaller companion across his strong shoulders. Together, the regulators stumbled toward the door. As the fresh air hit them, their lungs began protesting wildly, all of them half-collapsing as fits of coughing racked their bodies. Thankfully, others were there to watch over them and a dozen sets of hands grabbed them from the porch and dragged them to the safety of the dusty street.

A bucket brigade had been set up to try and control the fire before it spread to other buildings. Mrs. Potter, Casey and Mary began tending to the singed peacekeepers; the men struggling to bring their breathing under control.

Nathan crawled across to Vin who was being examined by Gloria Potter.

"He’s got a nasty gash on the side of his head," the woman stated. Nathan nodded and began to inspect his friend’s injuries. The ‘gash’ was deep and bleeding profusely.

"Mrs. Potter, put your hand there and..." Nathan’s lungs began protesting again. They were in no condition for talking. About the only thing they could handle at the moment was breathing, nothing else.

Mary rushed to the healer’s side with the canteen of water she had been administering to the others. Nathan took the water gratefully. "Put pressure on his head," Nathan finished after taking a quick sip of water. "We’ve got to stop the bleeding." The healer began running his fingers over Vin’s head. Under the gash there was a growing lump. Whatever piece of debris that had hit Vin, it had hit him hard.

"You alright, Kid?" Buck whispered to his young friend. J.D. was seated in the middle of the street still coughing. The boy managed to nod.

"Ezra?"

"Yes." The gambler was staring at the saloon. "If Vin hadn’t..." Ezra couldn’t finish the sentence. If Vin Tanner had not somehow sensed, or smelt, or done whatever it was he had done, they all would have been inside when the dynamite went off. Chaos and death would have rained around them if they themselves had been fortunate to survive the initial blast.

Josiah rose to his feet and offered his hand to Ezra. The gambler allowed his friend to pull him to his feet.

"We all would have been killed," the preacher muttered, flicking his eyes from the burning building to Vin who lay so quietly on the ground only a few feet away.

Nathan was muttering to himself as he examined the rest of his unconscious patient. Quickly, he began stripping the shirt from Vin’s chest. There he found bruising already darkening Vin’s skin.

"Ribs are cracked. A couple broken by the look of it."

"His back?" Ezra asked quietly, stepping up beside his companion.

Nathan glanced at the gambler. He had been avoiding that. The girder had been heavy enough to shatter Vin’s spine. "Boys," Nathan called urgently. The others gathered around him, their faces white with concern behind the layers of soot that marked their strong features. "I need you all to support him as I roll him onto his side." Nathan didn’t even want to think about any damage that may have been done when he had reefed his friend out from under the beam; or when Josiah had hoisted him up onto his massive shoulders; or when Vin had hit the ground when Josiah had collapsed on the porch of the saloon. Nathan could only pray that somehow none of these things had exacerbated any damage the girder may have done. "Try and keep his back straight and still."

Gloria Potter moved out of the way and watched as Josiah, Ezra, Buck and J.D knelt beside their silent friend and following Nathan’s instructions, supported Vin’s spine as he was rolled gently onto his side. Then each held their breath as the healer’s nimble fingers traced the line of Vin’s backbone.

"Nathan?" J.D. asked breathlessly.

"It seems okay." Nathan allowed his eyes to close briefly with relief. At least that was something. "He’s taken the full force of the blow across the shoulders. Left one looks like it’s dislocated."

"His breathing don’t sound good," Buck noted.

Nathan nodded. "We’ve got to get him up to my clinic... and someone should go and get Chris." The last part was said quietly.

"Nathan?" Buck asked sharply. He didn’t like the look on the healer’s face.

"His condition ain’t good, Buck." The other men stared into Nathan’s serious and pained eyes.

At that moment, the roof of the saloon came crashing down, the men and women who had been lined up in three separate bucket brigades dived to safety. For several seconds the town’s citizens froze as they stared in horror and disbelief at the destruction the dynamite had caused.

"We all would have been killed," a man near the regulators stated. He turned to face them. "You saved our lives - again."

"Is Vin going to be okay?" Mary asked softly. Silence. All two dozen people collected on the street waited.

"Get, Chris," Nathan repeated urgently, as he gently brushed Vin’s damp hair off his blackened face. Those two words said more than any medical analysis of the tracker’s condition.

"I’ll go," J.D. offered.

"No," Buck stated firmly. "None of us can. Someone set that dynamite for a reason. We all need to stay here and find out why. We’re already three men down."

"But what about Chris?" J.D. asked.

"I’ll go," Casey offered quickly.

"Ride like the wind, my dear," Ezra whispered, staring first at Vin’s ashen face and then at the very real concern on Nathan’s.

"I will."

"And Casey, be careful," J.D. added, watching as the girl raced for the livery.

**********

He had been standing across the street waiting patiently for the explosion. He had seen his men exit the saloon quickly. He had smiled then, for he knew that they had just lit the fuse. But the smile had slipped from his face only seconds later when masses of people began racing out of the saloon and emptying onto the street. He had been cursing loudly when the explosion finally went off because he could see several of the Seven safely collected outside. To his delight, however, they had all raced back into the flames. The seconds had ticked by and then the peacekeepers had reappeared, only to collapse as they burst through the batwing doors.

The citizens of the pathetic town had raced to their rescue, but he could see that even though his goal to kill the seven guns had failed, he appeared to have scored one victory. The scruffy tracker was in a bad way. He could tell by the way the others were fussing around him. He watched as the young man was gently lifted by four of his team mates and carried up the stairs to the healer’s clinic.

"Larabee doesn’t seem to be around, Sir."

"Maybe he was killed in the explosion," another man offered.

"No, they just sent that young lass riding out of here to fetch him."

"Do you want us to follow her and deal with Larabee?"

His brow furrowed as he considered his options.

**********

Vin stared out directly in front of him. He was standing on the edge of a large body of water. The water was shrouded in a white mist. There was absolutely no sound around him. None. The stillness was unreal... eerie. He suddenly realized that he was completely alone. Turning to glance behind him, he could see only emptiness - nothing real or distinct.

**********

"Mr. Jackson, is there anything we can do?"

"I need you to boil some water. I need to get some heat on his chest to bring out the bruising."

Josiah, who had just lowered Vin onto the bed, glanced at the healer. "His breathing is ragged."

"I know. It could be that one of his ribs has punctured his lungs, or it could be the head wound. I won’t know until I can examine him in more detail," Nathan stated, washing his hands.

Buck couldn’t take his eyes from Vin’s still form. Kneeling down, he took the young man’s hand in his own. "Hold on, Vin. You’re gonna be okay." Dear God, you’ve got to be okay.

"Buck," Nathan ordered. The scoundrel rose to his feet and moved out of the way.

"You’ve got to help him, Nathan."

"I’ll do my best, Buck."

The big man nodded and then turned toward the door. "Come on, boys."

"Buck?" J.D. asked. He wanted to stay here, just in case he could help. Just in case… he just wanted to stay here and help.

"Someone set that dynamite. We need to find out who before they set any more."

Josiah glanced at Ezra and the two men nodded. "We better find whoever it is before Chris gets into town," the preacher muttered.

Buck glanced back over his shoulder, his face set like stone. "Nathan are you sure you don’t need one of us to stay and help?"

"No, you go and find whoever did this."

"You call for us if..." Buck could feel the worry he felt being replaced by rage.

"I’ll call," Nathan assured his companions as he set about doing all he could to prevent the Seven from becoming ‘The Six.’

**********

There was a slapping sound - oars striking water. Out of the mist appeared a small boat. Vin stared at the tiny craft and at the oarsman.

"Hello," the man called. He was old - wizened - but surprisingly strong for his age.

Vin just stared.

"Well, come on, young fella. It’s time to go."

"Go?" Vin asked. His voice sounded hollow and it seemed to echo in the overwhelming silence.

"I’m here to pick you up. Come on." Vin glanced at the emptiness that surrounded him. Puzzled, he stepped into the small boat. "What’s your name?"

"Vin Tanner."

"I’m the oarsman."

"Where are we going?"

**********

Chris picked up his canteen and lifted it to his lips. He had been planning to ride back into Four Corners early tomorrow morning to begin preparations for the gold wagon’s safe passage through town, but now... the strange nagging was becoming hard to ignore. Perhaps he should get cleaned up and return to town this afternoon. Or was he just being paranoid?

The boys were more than capable of handling anything that arose in town. Ezra’s sharp mind and uncanny ability to read situations would place the men in good stead should any problem present itself. And Nathan was no slouch when it came to planning things out. Buck would be prepared to take the bull by the horns if no one else raised their hand and started giving orders. J.D.... Chris smiled. J.D. was no fool, but he automatically looked to his older companions for guidance. Josiah was a strange one. Ninety percent of the time he was well under control and there to watch over the others. But the preacher had an unpredictable side - an explosive side.

Chris lowered the canteen. Maybe he should head back. He smiled again as he thought of the one man he had forgotten. Had he done that deliberately? Vin was well qualified to deal with whatever arose - whether his leader was there or not. Tanner had a cool head, all-seeing eyes and largely unheralded leadership qualities. If there was a problem and Chris wasn’t there, the Seven’s leader had complete confidence in the group’s tracker. Vin would automatically step into the leadership role and the others would accept his orders without question.

**********

Vin felt strangely calm. Calm was not a feeling he had felt for a long time - years. He noted that the oarsman was studying him intently.

"You seem to accept all of this without question. Most of my passengers are far more inquisitive."

"I feel like this is right."

The oarsman nodded and continued to propel the boat over the still water. "You are one of the few who has prepared himself for this journey."

"What journey?"

"The journey after life?"

Vin frowned. "I’m dead?"

The oarsman paused in his rhythmic rowing. "Not quite. I’ve picked you up so you are on the way."

"Did I hang?"

"You must know by now that your friends would never allow that to happen."

"My friends?"

The oarsman inclined his head toward the bank that they were pulling away from. Vin glanced back. The shoreline was no longer empty. He could see people standing there. Nathan was the clearest. That puzzled Vin. "He is fighting to save you," the oarsman stated simply as he resumed his stroking.

"Where’s Chris?"

The oarsman smiled. "Further back. Behind the others."

Vin turned to face the elderly man who seemed to know what was going on. "I don’t understand."

"You are dying. This is your final journey. Look at the bank in front of you."

Vin strained his eyes to see across the distance. He could distinguish another group of people but they were a long way away and he couldn’t make them out. Then something caught the young man’s eye. A pink dress. That pink dress! It was only thing he ever remembered his mother wearing.

"Mama?" he whispered.

"She’s waiting for you. She’s been waiting a long, long time."

Before he knew it, Vin was on his feet. The boat began to rock wildly.

"Sit down," the oarsman ordered. "You must not fall in the water here."

Slowly Vin sank back into the boat. "Why?"

"This is the Lake of Lost Souls. You have lived a good and fruitful life and thus you have earned a ride across it. Those that don’t - those whose souls are unsavable - I don’t come for, and they end up lost in the lake forever. The lake is filled with the doomed spirits of both the living and the dead. If you fall in here, your soul will join theirs and be lost in limbo."

Vin strained to see the woman in the pink dress. "You’re taking to be with my Ma?"

"If that’s what you want."

"I still don’t understand."

"The decision is yours, Vin. Life or death?"

**********