“You’re a Tanner... you can do it.”

“Can...do...it,” Vin muttered, his voice slurring badly. He was still ten feet from the top.  Night had closed around him at some stage... he didn’t remember when.  He lifted an arm trembling with fatigue and gripped a protruding rock.  With all his might he pulled with sapped muscles.  A groan escaped his cracked and parched lips but he inched upward.

Again he paused to rest.  For three days and nights he’d tracked the bandits, pausing only to rest his horse.

Vin tried to swallow but his throat had been without water for fifteen hours.  He titled his head back and sighted another handhold.  Each one seemed further away than the one before.

“You’re a Tanner... keep climbing.”

Urged on, he gripped the rock.  He’d found the bandits yesterday morning.  He’d taken them in alive, though every fibre of his existence had urged him to seek vengeance for the Roberts - for the little ones who he’d helped into a wagon the morning before they’d died.  He’d lifted them when they were live... and he’d lifted them into coffins when they were dead.  Their faces were so clear in his mind...  their voices ringing in his head.  For their sake, he’d had to track their killers.  And he had. When he’d dropped the murders off in Lisbon, the sheriff had urged him to stay a while and rest, but he’d refused.  He couldn’t trust anyone there to watch his back as he slept.  He needed to get back to Four Corners... then he could rest.

Some time yesterday on the trip home, he’d passed out in the saddle from exhaustion, blood loss and fever, courtesy of the bullet received during the skirmish with the bandits.  Some time yesterday he’d woken on a small ledge half way down the side of Donovan Cliffs. 

Vin gripped a rock with bloodied fingers and raised himself a few more precious inches.  He’d been doing this for twelve hours.

Exhausted, he let the side of this face rest against the cold face of the cliff, his chest heaving.  Every breath burned his broken ribs. 

“You’re a Tanner... keep climbing.”

 Vin shut his eyes.  He had no idea what had happened to his faithful horse. Had Peso fallen in a rock slide?  Wandered too close to the edge?  Had Vin simply passed out and slipped from the saddle when Peso had started down the side of the cliffs on the trail home? 

“My fault,” Vin slurred softly.  Blind determination to catch those responsible for the murders had interfered with his usual common sense. When he’d seen the bodies of Mark and Donna Roberts and little Dan, Jane and Mary, something inside him had exploded. The little ones hadn’t deserved to die like that.  He’d seen it before... a long time ago. 

“Tanner’s don’t give up.”

Responding to the prompt, Vin searched the moonlight for another handhold.

For three days his determination to capture the murders had given him the strength to keep going.  His mission was complete and his need to rest overwhelming.

“You’re a Tanner... keep climbing.”

Vin sighed and searched above for something to pull himself up.  The rocks were loose and more than once over the 12 hours he’d slipped back.  However, he had to keep going.  No one knew where he was. He was at least two days’ ride from Four Corners.  The others had turned back after one day...their reasons many, varied and sensible.  But he hadn’t been able to.  He couldn’t let the mongrels get away with it... to do it again... to harm kids like Penny.  The thought froze in his mind. 

Penny.

He hadn’t thought about her for years.  He and Penny had played together when he’d lived at the ranch – she the ranch owner’s daughter and he an orphan sponsored by the family.  Bandits had come after dark and a stray bullet had taken 9-year-old Penny’s life.  For a second time, Vin’s world had fallen apart. Penny’s father...Vin’s sponsor...  had died that evening too.  Because of cowardly bandits who attacked good people in the night, Vin had again been left alone.  His tragedy had been repeated three days ago, for the Roberts sponsored an orphan. That orphan was now alone... well, would have been but Gloria Potter had taken him in.  Regardless, Vin had been determined to stop this ever happening to another child and it was that that had driven him.

Vin shivered.  The chill of the evening and the frostiness of his past combined. He was totally spent.  He knew if he passed out now, he’d fall and that would be it. He’d never feared death.  Death promised peace. After all, life had taught him what it was to be alone - experience had taught him no one gave a damn – and instinct told him, that even if he reached the top, he’d die out here alone.  What would death teach him?

“Tanner.”

The insistent nagging broke through his thoughts.  His mother wouldn’t have wanted him to give up.  She’d fought to the very end.

 “You’re a Tanner... just a bit further.”

The words lit the inner fire of his soul and he lifted his weary head. 

“You can do it.”

He was now less than five feet from the top, but didn’t have the physical strength to lift his arm. 

“TANNER... keep climbing, dammit!”

His endurance was at an end.  He had nothing left.  The edges of his vision darkened and blurred.

 “Tanner, don’t you dare give up on me!”

Vin’s weary body became heavy and he felt himself fall... and jerk to a stop.  Pain exploded through his body.  His eyes snapped open.  Directly above, a face glowed in the moonlight and piercing green eyes grabbed his own.

“Come on, Tanner. Keep climbing.”

It was an apparition... it had to be. 

“Vin!  You got to help me... or we’re both going over.”

Vin blinked and realized he was swinging freely, anchored by the left arm which was being clutched by... “Chris?”

Abruptly, he slid.

“VIN!”

Refocusing, and summing up the last dregs of his energy, Vin grabbed a rock with his free arm and pushed with his feet.  Chris hauled and Vin flew upward over the verge and sprawled on top of something spongy.  For a moment his vision faded.  Gently he was rolled to the side and his consciousness wavered.

Larabee’s face appeared above him, the expression twisted with concern.  “God, you’re a mess.”

Vin stared, still unable to believe his eyes. “Chris? How’d you find me?”

“Been tracking you for a day and a half.” Chris stated softly, placing a hand on Vin’s brow.  The touch was comforting, but the fever obviously concerning for Chris’ face darkened with worry.  “Found Peso a few hours ago... Damn.  How long ago were you shot?”

“Yesterday morning... I think.  Went straight through. Peso’s okay?”

“Yeah.” 

Vin’s body stiffened as Chris fingered his ribs. 

“Easy.  Need to shift you away from the edge.  We’ll set camp here for the night.   I need to stitch your side.  Won’t be as fancy as Nathan, but it’ll stop the bleeding.”

 “You came after me?”

“Yeah... you damn fool.”

Despite the tone and the words, Chris squeezed his shoulder. 

The warmth of relief and security blanketed Vin.  “Thanks.”

Chris nodded once.  Clearly he was angry but too relieved to act upon it.  Vin shut his eyes.  Tomorrow would be a different matter and he’d have to face his friend’s wrath.  He’d explain... and Chris would understand.  Larabee always did.

The next few hours blurred in a sea of red and black blotches.  When everything settled, and Vin’s consciousness returned, he was wrapped in a blanket, a canteen resting against his lips.

“Sip some water,” Chris ordered.

Vin sucked without opening his eyes, but the act of swallowing shifted his ribs and again the red and black veil descended. 

“Easy, Vin.”  Vin felt pressure to his good shoulder and the assuredness that he wasn’t alone overwhelmed him.

Vin forced his eyes open and peered up at Chris who was leaning over him, light from a fire flickering off the other man’s face.

“On that cliff, I thought you were going to give up on me, Tanner,” Chris growled.

Vin blinked. Now he understood. The voice that had kept urging him to climb hadn’t been in his mind at all.  It had been Chris... roaring at him from above, “Tanner, keep climbing... just a little further... Tanner, you can do it.”

“What?” Chris asked, returning Vin’s smile.

Vin sighed and shut his eyes.  He waited for the squeeze of reassurance he knew would come.  After all, life had taught Vin what it was to have a friend like Larabee - experience had taught him someone gave a damn – and instinct told him, that even if he couldn't reach the top on his own, someone would be there to help.  Thanks to Chris, death had nothing to teach Vin... at least not for a very long time. 

---

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© June 2009 Aussie Lass. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to MGM and Trilogy Entertainment and thank them sincerely for turning a blind eye so I can borrow them. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.