TBOS Round 2, Part 3

A day later, Danny walked along beside the wagons, his brow dark with troubled thoughts of Mr. Lawson. As he passed the wagon where Charley was sneaking a ride, the thin man slipped off the back of the vehicle and stepped up beside Danny, wiping his palms off on his jacket. Daniel hadn't seen  him much since the confrontation with Mr. Lawson; he hadn't yet had the chance to see what was under his hat.

"So, I guess you're a fighter then, huh?" Charley said. Danny couldn't help but laugh a little at that; if only Charley knew.

"Yes, I've been trained to fight," he answered. "Among other things." Normally he wasn't so cryptic; Charley really did put him in an odd mood. Danny guessed it was because he wasn't used to being around someone with so many secrets; it seemed this man had even more secrets than Knives did. And, like her, he wasn't using his real name. He had caught Geoffrey almost calling him by some other name several times. Danny couldn't imagine why, and was surprised to discover that he didn't really care. Charley wasn't the kind of person Daniel felt he could become a friend to.

"Like what?" Charley asked, interested. Daniel didn't want to get into an involved conversation with Charley about the intricacies of his training, and he finally saw his chance.

So rather than answering, Danny looked up at Charley's hat. "There's a bee on you!" he said, and swiped at the imaginary insect, knocking Charley's hat from his head.

To Danny's immense surprise, a fat yellow bird was suddenly revealed, its round feathers ruffled and tiny wings flapping. "I say!" it squeaked, but didn't get out much more before, like a flash, Charley scrambled, caught his hat before it hit the ground, and jammed it back on his head. Then he stared at Danny with wide, frightened eyes. Luckily, it seemed that none of the people walking with the wagons had seen the little creature.

Daniel blinked, and he smiled a bit shakily to reassure Charley. He had rarely seen someone look so panicked outside of a life-or-death situation. "A... a talking bird?" he ventured.

Charley nodded slowly, still holding onto his hat. "It's been... following me," he said. "I can't get it off my head."

Danny nodded consideringly. "And that first day I met you...?"

Twisting his face, Charley moved his shoulders in an odd kind of shaking shrug, without letting go of his hat. "I thought if I caught it, I could make it tell me why it was following me, or why I'm here. But it attached itself to my hair. I can't get anything but nonsense from the dirty, rotten thing."

Danny spluttered with contained laughter. He had never heard anything so ridiculous, and was amazed at the strange turns this broken Book threw at them. Charley smiled nervously at his laughter. "Ha ha, yeah. Funny, right? I've got a bird stuck to my head."

Looking around, Daniel broke down coughing to cover his laughter from the settlers who were giving them odd looks. "Listen," he finally said, "Let's talk about it more tonight when we camp, alright? Maybe we can get some sense out of it together."

They resumed walking, and Charley managed to lower his hands. "It told me I wasn't dreaming, but sometimes I doubt it. Particularly when it tells me stuff. Once, it lead me right into the hands of people who were trying to capture me. Turned out okay, I guess. I ran into Geoffrey. But... still. I find it hard to believe what it tells me."

Listening, Danny cocked his head. "What does it tell you now?"

Charley rubbed his arms as if he were chill, but it was still warm this low in the mountains. "Nothing," he said. "Just creepy stuff like, 'you're on the right path, sir,' and, 'Just keep following Daniel, sir.' I have a bad feeling that you're leading us into something bad. Unknowingly, of course," said Charley quickly as Daniel shot him a look. "But still. Be careful, okay?" He suddenly sighed loudly. "I've been wanting to tell you for that for days. Ugh. Well, now it's finally out."

Danny looked askance over at Charley. "You... why didn't you tell me earlier, if that's how you felt?"

"Well, I didn't have a good reason to!" Charley fussed with his hat again. "I could tell that you didn't trust me." When Charley looked back at Danny, he thought he saw something in the thin man's eyes that he hadn't noticed before. Weariness. Exhaustion of the soul. Danny was suddenly forcibly reminded that he had no idea what Charley had been through.

Suddenly attacked by a bout of guilt, Danny shook his head. "Well...."

Charley shrugged it away. "Well, now you know. I'm gonna go up and sit with Geoffrey for a while."

Danny couldn't think of anything to say as he watched Charley trot up the line of wagons, holding onto his hat with one hand.

He tugged on the sleeve of his buckskin jacket, frowning. He felt angry with himself for judging Charley too quickly; he always got mad at others for judging him, underestimating him, assuming things about him because of how he looked. Who was he, to think Charley was a certain way because of how he acted? Daniel determined to be more understanding and to treat Charley more kindly. Maybe, like Knives, he would eventually become a good friend, and maybe he would learn Charley's real name.

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They plodded on for two more days. They got the wagons and the oxen up and down the switchbacks with a great deal of effort, but no real problems. The weak spots in the trail had been successfully traversed, and they were almost to the end of their trek. Danny had nearly forgotten about Mr. Lawson and his seemingly empty threats, and he and Charley had a cooperative if strained friendship going. Danny used his Construct to light a few fires. The little yellow bird continued to be a mystery; all it talked about was destiny and the right path. Apparently they were on it. Geoffrey was particularly frustrated with the little thing; he tried all sorts of questions, simple to intensely philosophical; but the bird never budged.

It was the late morning of what was to be their last day up in the mountains when they passed a particularly beautiful view. Everyone decided to stop for lunch and admire it. It was a place Danny wasn't very happy with stopping at. It had a spectacular view over a vein of thickly wooded terrain extending into the smoky blue distance with the wide sky overhead, but there was a precipice near the trail that was very dangerous. Danny repeatedly asked to push on, and when the people, so smitten by the view, said they would not, he told them to keep a close eye on their children, and not let them near the edge.

But children would be children; a few boys disobeyed their parents and ventured close to the edge to peek out over the deadly drop. Daniel kicked a couple keisters, and the boys stayed away from the edge.

Sipping a watery soup, Daniel stood watch over the cliff until everyone was settled down and eating. His thoughts wandered, and he thought again of Mr. Lawson. Everyone had been keeping an eye out for him, but no one had seen him; Danny hoped he could solve this problem and get out of this story before the brutish tracker caught up to him. Not that he didn't think he could fight him; it was just that Danny had seen the craftiness in the larger man's eyes. And craftiness, applied with harmful intent, could do a lot of damage without anyone knowing the better until it was too late.

"Daniel!" came a frightened sounding cry. Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked around until he found Parson Junior, standing dangerously close to the cliff edge. The little boy was shaking visibly, and his 'coon skin hat was in his hands. Behind Danny, the wagon train was almost ready to start moving again. Danny set down his soup bowl and took a step toward the boy.

"Junior! What are you doing? Get away from the edge."

"I can't! You need to come here, Daniel! Quickly!" The high note of panic in Junior's voice spurred Danny to move, and he feared the worst. Had a child fallen while he wasn't paying attention? He would never forgive himself!

He skidded to a stop beside the edge. "What is it? What's wrong?" He looked out over the drop, fearing to see a body; and found himself almost nose to barrel with the business end of a rifle.

"Hallo there, Mr. Sovereign. Don't cry out, or you're brains'll be decorating this lovely prospect." Mr. Lawson growled, somehow standing confidently just out of sight of the wagons, below the cliff edge. Danny spotted a rope around the man's waist; it seemed there was a cave or something under and just off to the side of the jutting precipice. He was holding his gun propped up at his hip, and a dark smile was on his hairy face. "Didn't I say you're too green to know these mountains, boy?"

Junior looked on the verge of tears, his dark eyes glistening. "I'm sorry, Daniel! He said if I didn't call you over he'd shoot me!"

"Hush up now," Mr. Lawson said. "You two stand casual like you're talkin' to each other."

A rage Danny rarely felt began building in his chest. "Lawson, if you dare harm this boy-"

Mr. Lawson laughed quietly. "Only if you try something funny, Sovereign. I been fixin' this ledge here to give. I pull this line, you and the boy go tumblin' down." Lawson held up his free hand, showing a piece of thin white twine. Parson Junior gasped, and, looking out over the great distance to the ground below, began to silently cry.

Danny heard someone walking up behind him. It was probably Parson, coming to see why his son was so close to the edge. Danny held out a hand behind him where Mr. Lawson couldn't see, shaking it with the palm out, urging whomever it was to stop. Thankfully, the footsteps stopped. They didn't need another hostage, or more weight on the ledge; Mr. Lawson might do something drastic. Danny knew he had to keep Lawson talking.

"What do you want?" he asked coldly, holding out a hand to the child, who took it gratefully and drew closer to him.

Lawson leaned forward, fingering the twine, his eyes alight with maliciousness. "I want your life, Daniel Sovereign. I want your life for what you did to me."

As Parson Junior clung tightly to his leg, Danny's thoughts were racing. He knew he wasn't fast enough to dodge a bullet, nor was he fast enough to kill Lawson with a knife before he shot the gun. Danny loathed guns, he decided then and there. Such terrible weapons.

"What good is a specialized trade when someone else is willing to do the same thing for free? I'm takin' out the competition. The boy is collateral damage. Say your prayers, Daniel Sovereign; this crumbly canyon wall is about to give." The twine creaked ominously as Lawson tightened his grip, his cruel eyes watching their fear with relish.

Danny swallowed, and he put a hand on Junior's little shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. He couldn't allow the child to suffer and die because of him; he had to barter with the one thing he had.

"You want my life? You can have it," he said in a low, broken voice. "But if you try and kill this boy then I'll cry out no matter what you do, and these people will catch you and tear you to pieces. If you let him go back to his family, I will stay." Danny eased a step closer to the edge, putting himself between Lawson's gun and the boy, his heart thundering in his chest. "I will stay here on this ledge."

Lawson shook his head. "Oh Daniel, my heart is bleeding. So sorry, kiddo, but if I let that boy go back, he'll blab to his folks about what happened here and they'd catch me anyway. So much better if a tragic accident snatches him away from them, hm? Then I hide down here and listen to the screams."

That was the last straw.

Daniel crouched as fast as he could, turning his body so his back was to Lawson. He wrapped an arm around Parson Junior and tried to cover as much of the boy as he could. Putting is other hand on the ground, he leaned his weight on it and struck out behind him with a foot at the same instant Lawson fired the gun. He felt his foot connect with something, heard the beginning of Lawson's grunt of pain when the terrible crack-BANG of the gun ripped through the air.

The child screamed. For a blinding split second of panic, Danny thought the bullet had struck Junior; then fiery pain spread across his upper back. His first emotion was that of relief; the child was safe. It only lasted for a moment.

With a thunderous SNAP, like a thousand panes of brittle glass all breaking at once, the precipice separated from the cliff and began to slide. Danny's balance was all wrong, and although he tried, he couldn't get the leverage needed to throw himself off the falling piece of stone, not even enough to throw Junior onto the stable ground. He looked up, and lifted the hand supporting his weight and fell forward, hoping to catch the edge of the cliff. It was hopeless; the edge was a good foot away from his hand.

But someone's hands grabbed his.

Charley screamed as the cliff-side fell away and Danny and Junior's full weight settled on his arms. "Aaaaaaaaaah! Help me help me help me!" Far away below, the fallen cliffside crashed against the rocks below. Parson Junior looked down and wailed.

Danny looked to the side, and saw that Mr. Lawson's lip was bleeding from his kick, and that he was quickly reloading his rifle. Danny tried to kick him again, but he just swung, being too far away, and Charley gasped in pain, his two-handed grip already tenuous.

"Sorry," Danny moaned, but he could give Charley no relief. The cliff side was too far away from him to get a foothold. "Junior; climb up and grab the edge..." he said gruffly, trying to hoist the child higher with his arm. The pain in his back was already fading, now just a distraction; he had been trained to keep functioning with worse. It was nowhere near the worst he'd ever had. He could do this, he could do this.

The child's little hands touched Charley's; Mr. Lawson rested the barrel of his gun at Charley's temple. "Drop 'im if you wanna live," he growled. His plan of secrecy was blown to the heavens with the gunshot and the screaming. He hoped to take another hostage and escape back down the mountain.

Charley's face was red, his tired eyes were wild with fear, but a steely determination that Danny had never seen in him before shone behind it. Charley's eyes trembled closed as he seemed to force himself to speak. "Jacket," he gasped. "Protection!"

"Charley," Danny gasped. "Let go of me, grab Junior." He pushed the sobbing child higher and kicked out at Lawson again, knocking the tracker's elbow and upsetting his aim. Gasping, Charley shook his head.

"Damn you!" Lawson bellowed and quickly brought his gun round again. Danny saw his trigger finger tighten as soon as the barrel brushed Charley's hair.

"Charley! No!" Crack-BANG!

Danny tensed for the fall... but it never came. Charley's grip remained strong. Mr. Lawson reared back, his rifle smoking, mouth gaping.

"Danny," Charley grunted, a disbelieving smile on his face and wonder in his blue eyes, "My real name is Campren. Just wanted to let you know... if we still die."

The little yellow bird peeked out from under Campren's hat. "Well done, sir," it said cheerily.

Geoffrey appeared at the cliff's edge, the settlers right behind him. The old musician grabbed a thick branch and clubbed Mr. Lawson into insensibility while Parson reached over the cliff for his son. "Junior! Up here, Junior!"

"Daddy!" Parson Junior latched onto his fathers arms and was swiftly lifted clear; as soon as the extra weight was gone Campren sighed in relief and Daniel was able to hang on with both hands. Several other men reached down and grasped their arms and wrists, and on the count of three, hauled Danny out of the gaping mouth of the abyss.

Kneeling where they had been left as Mr. Lawson was dragged up as well, Danny and Campren both rubbed their arms and worked their shoulders. Danny discovered that the bullet had just grazed his shoulder; the bleeding was already slowing. Campren was shaking like a leaf, and reached up to touch the place where Mr. Lawson's rifle had been pressed against his head.

"I... I didn't know if that would work or not," he confided. Danny slapped a hand on Campren's shoulder.

"Campren; thank you. You saved our lives."

Campren smiled, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck. His hat twitched. Geoffrey walked over and crouched beside them. "Well done, Charley," he said. Campren lifted a finger.

"Not Charley; it's Campren now."

Geoffrey chuckled. "Finally. It's nice to meet you, Campren."

Campren leaned back and laughed. Danny was nearly tackled by Parson Junior, who hugged him tightly around the neck, and the whole group gathered around them in a circle, all talking at once.

Danny hoped that this was the end of the story. He couldn't think of a better one.