AUTHOR: Texas Aries

RATING: FRT, MV, MP
ALTERNATE UNIVERSE INFORMATION: Dallas Central AU
CHARACTERS: CHRIS LARABEE, VIN TANNER, EZRA STANDISH
UNIVERSE: Old West/Dallas Central AU

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Texas Aries and Setcheti create The Dallas Central AU.  Texas Aries has created the following original characters: Jason Yosemite Sheriff Michael Dunne and Lorna Wells.

JTCTF is Joint Terrorism and Crime Task Force also created by Texas Aries and Setcheti.

WARNING:  Those that like Mary Travis then you really don’t want to read this fic.

DISCLAIMER: The names of all the Magnificent Seven characters contained in this story is the property of Trilogy Entertainment Group, the Mirisch Group and MGM. No Infringements of these copyrights are intended in this story, which has been written for the joy of writing only

CHALLENGE: May 2002 Challenge, offered by Michelle, summarized:  Do you believe in the supernatural, the unusual, the out of the ordinary things that can not be explained? What would the boys do when faced with such a situation? Write a story where one or more of the boys are caught up with forces beyond their control. My one stipulation is that there most be some other worldly figure, (ghost, alien, angel, etc...) there to help them along. Note: This should not be a horror story!

CHRIS'S POV - July 23, 2005

I checked the rearview mirror to see if Ezra was still asleep. FBI JTCTF Agent was stretched out on the backseat out with his feet up and a cushion under his head. I had to smile, for Ezra was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, a white t-shirt, cowboy boots and his hair was tousled from sleeping. Gone was the suave, expensively groomed FBI Agent; instead a relaxed, average Joe lay there fast asleep.

I then slid my eyes towards the right side of the Jeep cab to see that Vin was taking advantage of the reclining passenger seat and was asleep as well. Both men were catching up on two months of sleep, they lost due trying to track a suspected terrorist across the southwest part of the United States.  From what they had discover that the terrorist main target had been the Hoover Dam which had earn both men commendations by the FBI but they would have preferred a week off instead.

Vin, Ezra and I had decided to go to Santa Fe for a three-day Western Antique show and exhibit. We’d left early on Friday to make it there for the Saturday morning opening of the show. Each of us had taken a turn driving and we’d arrived Friday night around 11:00pm. Due to the number of people attending the show we’d had to share a hotel room, but we were all too tired to care.

It turned out to be a great trip with the three of us relaxing and indulging in a hobby that fascinated all of us. Ezra had purchased a great big four poster bed which would be delivered to his home the next week and Vin had found an old brown Cavalry-type hat, a mare’s leg shotgun and a couple of photographs all dated around the1880's. I had bought a roll-top oak desk, a rocking chair and a cedar chest, which I have loaded into my trailer. I knew all three pieces needed to be carefully restored, but once they were, they would be beautiful.

This morning had been the final day of the show but we’d decided to leave early since the majority of the vendors would be gone and so we’d set off towards home. Now we were about five hours from Dallas and I wanted a break from driving; I’d just reached over to wake Vin when the Jeep started to sputter and almost died in the middle of the interstate. Seeing an exit sign for Four Corners, Population 2,000, I sighed in relief when I noticed how close to the town we were and hoped that they would have a mechanic someplace.

By this time both Ezra and Vin were awake and looking for a garage, which we all spotted at the same time. Yosemite Garage was on the outskirts of the town and looked like it had been converted from an old stable. As I pulled into the garage the truck died completely and we coasted the last few feet before parking.

Sighing, I got out of the truck and was met half way to the office by a mechanic who was around Josiah's age. As I drew near he gave me a strange look but I ignored it. I asked him, "I was wondering if you could take a look at my truck to see what the problem is?"

"Sure, Mister. Let's take a look." Vin, by this time, had popped the hood and was leaning over the engine trying to see what the trouble was. The mechanic started to look and then leaned over a little more before pulling back to wipe his hands with a rag. "Well, Mister, it looks like your fuel pump is cracked. The good news is we can get your part here by tomorrow, but I won't be able to work on it till Wednesday."

I looked over at Vin to see if he had any objections to staying in this town for a couple of days. He simply shook his head and I turned to Ezra who was just now climbing out of the Cherokee. "Hey Ez, any problem staying here a couple of days till the truck is fixed?"

With a shrug of his shoulders Ezra replied, "It's fine with me, Chris."

Turning back to the mechanic, I asked him, "Is there somewhere nice we can stay?"

The mechanic nodded his head towards town and said. "Well, there is Potter's Bed and Breakfast or the Four Corners Hotel, they are both easy walking distance from here."

Holding out my hand I told him, "Chris Larabee. Thanks. The stuff on my trailer, is there anywhere I could store it?"

He was giving me a weird look as he shook my hand. "Don't worry, Mister Larabee, I’ll put your trailer inside at night. The name is Jason Yosemite and I'm the owner, so I’ll see you Wednesday." He then turned back to the garage and I picked up my bag as we set off towards town.

The town had made an effort at restoring the old buildings and had turned them into a quaint historical attraction. The old jail was now a museum and so was a restored newspaper office called The Clarion, both of which all three of us would probably want to check out. The various stores we passed were also beautifully restored and I looked forward to exploring the antique shops.

We first checked Potter's Bed and Breakfast, which appeared to be an actual restored version of an old west boarding house, but they were full so we went to the Four Corners Hotel. The hotel was restored like the rest of the downtown area, and the clerk inside was in costume and gave us a friendly grin…until we took our sunglasses off.

I though for a moment she was going to faint and rushed over to her. Ezra and Vin followed and Vin helped me to sit the girl down on a stool while Ezra got her a glass of water. Everywhere we’d gone so far in town people had been doing double takes and falling over things staring at us and now this. "Miss, are you all right?" I asked.

She just continued to stare at Ezra, never taking her eyes off him, which was starting to make the FBI Agent uncomfortable, when a middle age man stepped out of the back room. "Elizabeth. I..." Seeing that the girl he was looking for had three men surrounding her, he hurried to the girl’s side and demanded, “What happened? What did you do to her? My God Elizabeth, are you all right?"

"Sirah, all we did was walk in the door and the young lady almost fainted." I could tell that Ezra was still unnerved by the girl's reaction to him and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rising as if someone had walked over my grave. I shot a look over to Vin to see what he made of this town's strange behavior and could tell that he felt the same.

The man swiveled to look up at Ezra and then slowly rose to stand between him and the girl. The color had drained from his face and now I was worried that he might faint. Then in a shaky voice he asked, "What can I do for you, sirs?"

Figuring I’d better take over and get our rooms so we could figure out what the hell was going on with this town, I said, "We would like three rooms for two, maybe three nights." The man swung his eyes towards me and then to Vin, and if it was possible he got even paler. He reached for the girl's arm and pulled her up to follow behind him as he made his way to the counter. When they reached the door he’d just come out of he pushed her through it and closed it before turning back to help us.

I was starting to get a pounding headache what with all the strange reactions we’d been getting from the townspeople and all I wanted was to lay down and rest. Taking out my wallet I handed my Visa to the manager. "Here, put it on my card. You guys can pay me back later."

The man took it and told me, "The rooms are $49.99 each and we are running a special so if you stay two nights the third night is free. Is that all right Mr. ..." Then he glanced down at my name and squeaked "Larabee?"

That was the final straw and I growled, "Yes ... yes that's fine. Can we have our rooms now?"

This made him even more nervous as he handed us cards to fill out. "Could ... could you and the other two ... gentlemen sign these ... while ... while I get your keys?"

We hurriedly filled out the cards, grabbed our keys and headed up to our rooms, all three of us just wanting some time to ourselves to soothe our ruffled nerves. As I lay down for a nap my last thought was that we’d either need to go shopping for some clothes or do laundry someplace.

July 24, 1877

"You both know what to do?"

"Yes."

"I want their deaths to look like an accident."

"No problem. Just remember we both get $50.00 apiece for doing this."

"Yes, yes, I’ll have your money ready tomorrow. Now just do it."

EZRA'S POV – July 25, 1877

I sit here keeping watch over Chris and Vin, not really believing that they are gone.  They look like they’re sleeping and waiting for me to wake them…but I know that they are dead for I have touched them and found no life. The others are watching me carefully, as if I were made of spun glass and might break any moment.

Chris, Vin and I had become close friends after the assassination attempt on Mary's life. Their friendship had helped me accept my role with the Seven and had encouraged me to reject my mother's training. Mother didn't like the fact that I had no intention of ever leaving Four Corners and that I was finally happy. I’d even told her that the three of us had decided to pool our money to buy McAllister's ranch to start raising horses. Now that dream was just so much dust.

Buck was the first to find me after I escaped their constant supervision.  I told him that I was fine and that I just wanted to watch over them tonight; to say my last goodbyes to my two friends. Josiah, Nathan, JD and Buck took turns checking up on me, probably afraid that I might do something rash. Instead I sat between them, holding one of their cold, lifeless hands in each of mine and trying to come to terms with the idea that I would never again hear their voices, never again feel the warmth of their friendship and brotherhood. I now understand how Chris had felt at the deaths of his wife and son, for it felt like my heart and soul were as dead as my friends ... no, my brothers.

Buck told me that the men who found Chris had been murdered outside of town, both shot in the back, but I couldn't even raise enough interest to ask who they were, not with me trying to deal with this.

"Ez.--" I raised my head to look around, because it sounded like Vin calling my name.

"Ezraaaa --" I drop their hands as I got up and pulled out my gun, to peer-gun. I peered into the shadows of the room to see who would pull such a cruel joke by, trying to make me think that Vin and Chris were calling my name.

Then, in one corner of the room, a glow started and a warm summer breeze assaulted my senses. Inside of the glow I saw a beautiful summer meadow with buffalo roaming free on green pastures.  Two figures appeared as they walked towards me and I knew instinctively that it was Chris and Vin. I dropped my guns and I rushed to embrace them, not caring that it would be impossible for them to be here with me. 

I felt their strong arms go around me, embracing me. I cried as I held them close. They held me in their arms and comforted me with soothing words and gentle touches until I grew calm.  Only then did they pull back a short ways, but still allowing them to touch me. I had closed my eyes when they started to withdraw, not wanting to open them to find that this was only a dream, but they called to me to open them.

"Ez ... open your eyes"

That voice was Vin's and the concern in it almost made me open them, but I shook my head determinedly. "No ... If I open them you will disappear and I will be all alone again."

I then felt Chris gently grasp my shoulder. "Ezra, please open your eyes. Come on."

I couldn't resist their pleading and opened my eyes. They were my Chris and Vin but somehow more. Gone was the pain from Chris' face and he looked years younger; joy shone from his eyes but there was still a little sorrow there as well. Vin's eyes were also lit with happiness, but like Chris the sadness could be seen in them too. Their faces glowed with an inner fire and I thought that this must be what angels looked like. I saw how worried they were for me but I couldn't care, I was just happy they’d come back and I clutched at them not intending to ever let them go.

Chris gently broke my hold on them both to capture my face in his strong hands and told me, "Ezra ... we can't stay."

"Listen pard, we will always be there for you,” Vin said, hugging me. “You just won't be able to see us or touch us, but we will wait for you to join us. But Ez, you got to listen to us now ‘cause we don't have much time."

Chris then took over. "Ezra, we were murdered..."

Murdered!

Someone killed my brothers. A burning flame ignited within me and I wanted to tear apart the one who did this. "Who?" I demanded.

"The last thing Vin or I remember is having a drink with your mother. She wanted to congratulate us on the ranch. It surprised us…but that is all either of us remembers until we woke up here."

My Mother?

Could she really have planned this and murdered them?

Yes!

Now things added up; she’d hired those two men who were murdered.  She must have drugged Chris and Vin and then had let those two murders kill my brothers. They must have been the ones who threw Vin off the roof of the hotel and somehow got one of their horses to kill Chris. Then, so that they couldn't blackmail her for more money, my mother killed them as well. I closed my eyes to steel myself for I would see to it that she was punished for her crimes.  At this moment she had ceased to be my mother and became a murderess.

"I will see to it that she is punished for what she has done," I told the spirits of my two friends.

They stayed with me for a short while before returning to heaven, leaving me but not. When Josiah came in to check on me I told him I believed that Vin and Chris had been murdered. At first I thought he believed me, but I soon realized that he was patronizing me. None of the others believed me, except maybe for JD. Figuring that I had to get proof myself, I thought up a quick con that I would put into effect tomorrow night against Maude.

Since we had found my two friends, Mary Travis was constantly at my side offering support and comfort to the remaining gunslingers and myself.    It still surprises me how her attitude changed once I stepped in the way of the assassin’s bullet.  I believe she thinks of me as her hero and I couldn’t tell her the reason that I did what I did.  It wasn’t for her but for Chris Larabee, one of the men few men that I would die for.   I couldn’t let Chris be cut down by an assassin bullet.

The whole town turned out for the burial. It took every lesson my mother ever taught me not to let my grief rage as their bodies were lowered into the ground side by side.   I wanted to fall to my knees scream out my denial and grief to the world, instead I stood there with tears running down my face.  My other brothers’ grief was as silent as my own, but we stood together to offer each other the support of our shared grief.  But when the first shovel of dirt Vin’s coffin I felt my knees grow weak.  Something must have given me away for Mary wrapped her body around mine holding me up, but making it look like I was the one to offer support.  She was a good friend and I regretted the last few weeks of avoiding her, thinking her interested in me was more than just friendship.  No, she was a true friend being here for me.

When I returned to my room after the funeral I sat down and planned my trap for Maude, outlining everything in my journal which I hid in my secret place in the floor boards. Knowing that she also kept a journal outlining every sting, how much it gained her, who she worked with and who the victim was, I knew that if I could get that book I could find proof of her murderous scheme.   I waited, watching her every move and when she left her hotel room to start her rounds around town, I entered her room. Knowing I had to work fast, I searched her room and finally found it hidden in the dresser, attached to the bottom of a drawer. She would know soon enough that I had taken her book and would come to find me.

Now I just had to find JD and show him the proof, and then…then I would confront Maude and have her confess so that JD could hear it straight from her own mouth.

Tonight, Mother, you will be punished for what you have done!

EZRA'S POV - July 23, 2005

I knew I was dreaming for I was facing my mother but not my mother - this woman was dressed in something from the past. Anger and vengeance burned through my heart and soul and I snarled at her, "Admit it, Maude! You killed Vin and Chris."

The woman drew herself up as if I’d insulted her. "I did no such thing, Ezra. Where did you get such a ridiculous idea?"

Sneering, I told her, "I have your journal, Mother. I know. I know everything, but why."

Her face drained of all color and she demanded, "Ezra, that's private property and I insist that you return it to me."

"No, Mother, you will be punished for killing Vin and Chris. I swore to their spirits that you would get what is coming to you." I turned my back on her determined to leave the room, when I heard the signature click of her derringer being released. Turning back towards her I said. "Put that away, Maude, you’re not going to shoot me."

"Give me my journal, Ezra," she demanded as I took a step towards her, to disarm her.

"No," I told her and then grabbed the gun, which she refused to let go of. As we struggled over the weapon I heard JD slam open the door and then I felt a bullet rip though my chest. I never heard the shot, but the last thing I did hear was Maude screaming my name.

I sat straight up as I awoke from the strange, deadly dream patting my chest making sure that there was no hole or blood from that vivid dream.

Why did I dream that my mother had Chris and Vin killed?

VIN'S POV - July 23, 2005

The dream started with me being dragged by two men and I couldn’t seem to move. All I heard was, “She wants it to look like an accident.”

Then another voice said, “He’s up here all the time, so falling off in the middle of the night would be just about right. His luck just ran out.”

Then I was thrown from the roof and I felt myself falling…

I awoke shaking and gasping from the dream, taking deep breaths to calm myself after experiencing the fall to my death. As I calmed down I tried to shake it off, but it didn’t seem like a dream; it was too real, almost like it had happened sometime in the past and I’d recognized the place that I was thrown from…for it was this hotel.
 

CHRIS'S POV - July 23, 2005

The dream started off with me feeling two men dragging me to the stable. I couldn’t move, but I knew that if I didn’t I would be dead. Then from somewhere, I knew that Vin was dead and one part of my soul cried out in denial while the other half was frantic with fear for Ezra. I knew that he would be next if I didn’t get away, but I couldn’t.

Then a voice said, "I'm starting to think $50 apiece isn't enough for this job."

"I think you’re right ... more like a $100 apiece. After all, she doesn't want to get caught."

They threw me in a stall with a strange horse and then I heard a whistle, and the next thing I felt was a blow landing on my chest. I awoke, crying out my denial, my heart racing, and I took gasping breaths to try to calm down. It was only a dream. It was only a dream.

The three men could not go back to sleep but paced around their small rooms, each man trying to deal with the death aspect of their own dream.  The dream that was too vivid to be a figment of their unconscious, for it had the feeling of a memory.  Ezra kept touching the spot where the bullet had entered in the dream and noticed a bruise forming at the site, while Chris and Vin still felt the hands of the unknown men pulling at them.

Hunger finally drove Vin to knock on Ezra's door, and the young detective waited nervously till the southerner opened it. Both men shared an uneasy glance and Vin took a deep breath, determined to push aside the vision. "I'm hungry and I thought maybe you and Chris would like to join me for dinner."

Ezra chided himself for letting a dream, that was nothing but a figment of his unconscious fears, shake him so badly. Pulling himself together, the FBI Agent smiled warmly at his friend.  "That sounds great Vin. Let me just grab my wallet."

Chris startled them by opening the door before Ezra could even knock. The blond blinked at their sudden appearance but smiled warmly at his two friends, determined to put the disturbing dream behind him. “I guess what they say is true, great minds do think alike.”

The three men wandered slowly down to the lobby, each man preparing themselves mentally for the strange reaction of the townsfolk. As they reached the lobby they noticed a twenty-something young man standing watch at the front desk. Bracing themselves for the typical reaction, they were surprised when he turned and sent them a friendly smile. “May I help you, gentlemen?”

Letting go of the breath he was holding, Chris asked, “Is there a restaurant within walking distance?”

The desk clerk thought for a minute and then told them. “Normally I would suggest the hotel, but our chef had to leave for an emergency and the kitchen is closed tonight, but you could go to the Saloon across the street. The food is not fancy but it’s good, plus it was once a real Western saloon and it has a small museum that you can tour. The people around here told me that it’s supposed to be haunted by a dead gambler, but I just moved here so I can’t tell you if it’s true or not.”

Chris nodded his thanks and the three men headed to the saloon. As they were crossing the street Vin remarked, “JD will be disappointed that he missed the chance to meet a ghost.”

Ezra shot a glance to his friend and said, “Vin, you can’t tell me that you believe in such things?”

Vin’s expression turned serious. “I don’t know, Ez, but I have seen some odd things during my years on the reservation and police force. I can’t really say for sure. How about you, Chris?”

Chris glared at Vin and answered grudgingly. “Yeah, I do.”

Chris opened the door to allow the other two men to enter the saloon first and ran smack into them. The room grew deathly quiet as everyone stared in wide-eye wonder at the three men waiting in the doorway. A waitress walked in from the kitchen carrying a tray, which she promptly dropped upon seeing them standing there.

Then a little girl of about five stared at Ezra, pointed her finger and screamed at the top of her lungs, “Mommy, the ghost! The ghost is after me!” and then started to scream and cry at the top of her lungs. 

That seemed to break the frozen standoff between the three men and the people in the saloon. It was also the last straw for Chris; he raised his voice and growled, “What the hell is wrong with you people? It’s like you’ve never seen strangers before!”

The town sheriff got up from the back table he was sitting at to make his way over to the three men who were obviously very confused and uncomfortable with being the center of attention. The sheriff was a friendly-looking man in his mid forties; around six-two with a slender build and black hair turning slightly gray.

Turning to an older waitress he asked her, “Nancy, why don’t you box up my dinner and three more for these gentlemen. Send them over to the office.” Then turning to the three men he introduced himself. “Gentlemen, I’m Sheriff Michael Dunne. Why don’t you come with me and I can answer some of you questions.”

Figuring it would be the best thing for everyone involved, Chris turned to walk out of the saloon followed by Ezra, Vin and Sheriff Dunne. “Gentlemen, this way please.” The three men followed the sheriff to the right and down about two blocks before going into the sheriff’s office. Dunne ushered them past the gaping deputies and into his office, where he closed the door and then closed the blinds. He hung his hat on the coat rack before indicating to his visitors to have a seat.

Once he took his seat, he looked at his three strange visitors and said, “Gentlemen, I hate to do this…but could I see some identification please?”

Vin and Chris pulled out their identification, including their Dallas Major Crime badges, while Ezra handed over his FBI identification. Once the sheriff had looked at all the ID’s he handed them back and sat looking at the men who owned them in complete wonder.

Ezra was feeling that things had just gotten a little out of control and decided to do something about it. “Sheriff Dunne, could you Please tell us what the hell is going on around here?”

The sheriff took a deep breath and began his explanation. “Well, this might take a while so get comfortable. Four Corners was settled around 1868, and like all towns in the West it attracted some bad elements as it grew. Around 1873 five men were passing through and two of them prevented the hanging of a healer name Nathan Jackson. Judge Owen Travis hired them as peacekeepers for the town and surrounding areas. The leader was a well-known gunfighter by the name of Chris Larabee. His second in command was an ex-bounty hunter, Detective, and tracker named Vin Tanner who had a $500 dollar reward on his head for a murder he didn’t commit. Then there was another gunfighter, an old-time friend of Larabee's named Buck Wilmington, the healer Larabee and Tanner saved from lynching, Nathan Jackson, and the Preacher Josiah Sanchez. Next was my great grandfather, Sheriff JD Dunne, and lastly the gambler Ezra P. Standish.”

The three men sat stunned as Dunne listed the names of each of the town’s peacekeepers. Chris was first to recover somewhat and asked, “I can understand our names spooking people, but why …”

“Why do they react that way to just seeing all three of you?” interrupted Dunne. “Well simply put, you are carbon copies of Larabee, Tanner and Standish. The only difference I can see is Detective Tanner here has short hair while the tracker grew his hair long, as was common in those days.  I can take you over to the town museum to see for yourself. Now as to why little Cassie Wells screamed ‘ghost’ at you, it’s because your … relative … Mr. Standish, haunts the saloon. Believe me, it’s true; I ran into the specter for the first time when I was eighteen.”

Ezra couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Excuse me Sheriff Dunne, but you can’t be serious!”

“Oh I am totally serious, and we’ve had experts out here who have documented and confirmed the haunting. I can even show you proof, for the bedroom floor of the gambler's room has a pool of blood that appears every night around nine o’clock and then disappears before dawn.”

Ezra couldn’t give up the augment and questioned Dunne. “Well it could just be a hoax, or maybe something wrong with the wood. Maybe you should replace the floor.”

Smiling at the tense man Dunne replied, “Well the floor has been changed twice and each time the pool of blood reappears. We’ve taken samples; the blood is human and always the same type and DNA match.”

Vin’s curiosity was aroused and he asked, “So why does this gambler haunt the Saloon?”

Dunne leaned back in his chair to rest his hands on his stomach. “Weeellll, the legend has it that one night both Vin Tanner and Chris Larabee died—” The sheriff paused as both Vin and Chris’ faces drained of color. “Gentlemen, is something wrong?”

Vin nervously licked his dry lips and asked, “Did your Vin Tanner fall from the hotel roof?”

The Sheriff sat up to look intently at the Major Crimes Detective. “Yes, but …”

But before the Sheriff could finishing ask his question Chris interrupted to ask, “Was the gunfighter killed by a horse?”

Intense brown eyes locked gazes with the MC captain and the sheriff said, “Yes, but how did you know? Did someone tell you?”

Still not fully understanding what was happening to him and his two friends Vin answered, “I took a nap and dreamt of being thrown from the roof.” He shuddered as if someone had walked over his grave. “It wasn’t pleasant.”

Shifting his eyes between the three men, the sheriff continued his story but watched the three men’s body language and facial expressions; he could tell the other two men had also had similar dream experiences. “Tanner did fall from the roof and Larabee was killed by a horse. The thing was that everyone thought they were just accidents, all except for Standish. He told the other peacekeepers that he thought the two men were murdered, but no one believed him. They just though he wanted someone to blame for his friends’ deaths. Well, according to legend, Standish found proof in his mother’s journal. Apparently Mrs. Standish didn’t want her boy to waste his talents as a peacekeeper in a small town, so she hired two men to kill Tanner and Larabee. Standish showed the journal to my great grandfather and they set up a sting. The gambler took the book and hid it someplace so that his mother couldn’t find it. When he tried to get her to confess to killing both men she denied it, but when he told her he had her journal his mother pulled a gun. They fought and she shot and killed her only child. My great grandfather was too late to save his friend but even though Mrs. Standish was hung for her son’s murder she was never convicted in the deaths of the other two men. It’s said that the gambler can’t rest until the proof is uncovered and everyone knows that his mother indeed killed Larabee and Tanner.”

Chris ran his hands though his hair, thinking over everything that the sheriff had told them. He didn’t blame the townspeople for their reactions now; here the three of them had come to Four Corners, the spitting image of three men that had a profound effect on the town. And now Dunne had revealed two possible murders with missing evidence, plus there was that damn dream…

The sheriff leaned back, watching the three men, and told them, “There have been reports that the two murdered men appear once in a while near where they were found. I can’t say if it’s true or not, but I thought you might be interested.”
 

The three men silently made their way back to the hotel after eating a surprisingly good steak dinner and finding out more about the town’s murdered heroes. Each man was lost in his own thoughts and feelings, trying to come to terms with what they had been told and seen. The Sheriff had brought out a picture of the seven men and the resemblance between themselves and their other team members was astonishing.

As they made their way up the stairs to their respective rooms, each of the men called out a good night to the other two before going in and closing their doors. None of them thought they would be able to sleep after everything, but surprisingly they all fell into a deep sleep. None of them knew what was in store for them in the early hours of the morning.

EZRA'S POV - July 24, 2005

Something woke me from my dreamless sleep, calling to me, demanding that I follow it. I could not deny that call and quickly dressed and left the room, not bothering to shut the door. I was pulled down the hall to a closed door that led to the roof.  I reached out to open it, but jumped back when it silently opened of it’s own accord.  I hesitated for a moment but the commanding tug had me walking through the doorway into a glowing fog.  I should have turned around at the sight and run to the safety of my friends, but instead I calmly ascended the stairs.  Everything was like a dream and instinctively I knew that nothing would harm me.

The door at the top of the stairs open soundlessly to allow me to step out onto the roof as the glowing fog rolled out across the rooftop.  I could only look up in wonder, as the sky seemed filled with stars, taking my breath away with the timeless beauty.  I was lost in the beauty before me when I felt a presence and a familiar voice greeted me. “Ez, is that you?”

I turned to a darkened corner where Vin’s voice had come from and asked, “Vin, what are you doing up here?”
 

As the form moved closer I saw that the man was dressed in a buckskin jacket, Calvary hat, jeans and had a sawed off shot gun strapped to his leg.  As the man moved closer and the dim light, produced by the glowing fog, revealed his face, my breath caught for the face was Vin’s but there were slight differences that told me that it wasn’t him.  As the man drew closer I could vaguely see the stairwell through his form and I felt my heart skip a beat.  He stopped in front of me and raised his hand to touch me.

I tried to jerk back, afraid of the unknown that I have been confronted with, but I couldn’t move.  It was like some force had seized me, holding me firmly in its grasp.  Sorrowful blue eyes that were so much like the Vin I known caught my attention.  As I watched his eyes they changed, the sorrow replace by joy.  Cold fingers gently caressed my cheek as he whispered with pent up emotion, “I’ve waited such a long time for you, Ez.”
 

VIN'S POV - July 23, 2005

Something woke me from a sound sleep with the knowledge that Ezra was in danger. Quickly dressing, I jerked open the door to see that Chris was already in the hall looking around, searching.  We exchanging a single glance I could tell he felt the same air of danger I did. It was then that we noticed the door at the end of the hall was open and the strange glowing fog shrouded the stairs and the doorway.

Pulling our guns we made our way cautiously down the hall, not knowing what we were facing but taking comfort in the feel of the cold metal of the guns in our hands.  Slowly we made our way up the stairs in the eerie silence that wrapped around us, too afraid for Ezra to be afraid for ourselves.  The strange fog wrapped around our legs and seemed to caress us in it’s welcoming embrace.  It was as if there was some sort of intelligence behind the wisp that kept urging us upwards almost as if it was pushing us faster.  Giving into the urging we hurried up the stairs to emerge onto the rooftop where we separated, seeking cover as our cop instincts told us to.

From the safety of my spot, I started to scan the area, looking danger and for our missing friend.  My eyes quickly found what I was searching for, but my mind refused to believe what I was seeing.  I must have made some sound for Chris came to my side and I heard his breath catch in his throat as we observed Ezra and the creature wearing my face.

The ghost was putting off a faint white light as it stood there with it’s arms around Ezra, holding him tenderly as if he was embracing a long lost friend or brother.  But it was the strange blue glow that surrounded my friend that got my attention and some instinct told me that it was slowly sapping the life out Ezra.  I started forward, determined to rescue Ezra from the danger that the ghost represented.

CHRIS'S POV - July 23, 2005

At Vin’s gasp I quickly made my way to where he was.  Following his gaze I felt my own breath catch in my throat.  Ezra was being held tenderly by a man that could have been Vin’s twin except for two things.  One he was glowing with a faint white light and the second was that we could vaguely see through him.  The ghost had somehow immobilized Ezra with a blue light; a light that instinctively I knew was slowly killing the southerner.  It was Vin’s angry growl that broke through my shock and I was right at it side as he moved forward to rescue Ezra from whatever hold that the ghost had on him.

A strong wind suddenly came up, making us stagger a bit before we noticed that the ghost was gone and that Ezra was standing there alone.  There was no expression on his pale face and then like someone had cut a string, Ezra collapsed bonelessly to the roof.

Rushing to his side, I hesitated before reaching out to touch him, afraid that whatever the ghost had done had killed him.  With trembling fingers I placed them along the vein in his throat to feel a slow, thready pulse under skin that was freezing to the touch.  I leaned over him, using what little light there was to see that his skin was colorless and lips blue, all signs of hypothermia.  Here it was a warm eighty degrees at night outside and Ezra was literally freezing to death.

Vin knelt down on the other side of Ezra and picked up his hand to check the pulse before trying to rub some warmth back into the freezing limb, but I knew that it wasn't going to be enough. "Vin, we need to get him back into bed. Help me." I looped one of Ezra’s cold arms around my neck and wrapped my other arm around his waist while Vin copied me on the other side. Awkwardly we made our way down the stairs, Vin going first and me taking up the rear with Ezra a dead weight in our arms.

Once down we made our way to Ezra’s room since it was the closest to the stairs.  In under a minute, we had the southerner tucked under the warm sheets and blanket but he was still shivering and hadn’t regained consciousness.

Vin and I took up positions on opposite sides of our friend and started to rub his cold limbs trying to warm him up but I could tell it wasn’t enough.  My concern and fear was rising as the minutes went by.  Knowing we had to do something more, I turned down the sheet of the bed and started to unbutton Ezra’s shirt. “Vin, we have to get him warmer.  I need you to go start the shower, put the water on as hot as it can go and then come back and help me get him in there.”

Vin went into the bathroom to start the water as I continued to undress my friend.  It wasn’t right that Ezra was lying so still for it reminded me too much of times spent in hospital rooms waiting for him to wake.  Another pair of hands helped me to lift Ezra up so that I could pull down his pants and underwear.  I then quickly stripped down so that I was only in my underwear before helping Vin lift the southerner from the bed and we made our way to the bathroom.

Once there I made sure that Vin could support Ezra before going to the tub and closing the drain, letting the tub fill with hot water.  I then stepped into the shower, before taking Ezra’s dead weight in my arms, as Vin helped me maneuver the unconscious southerner into the tub.  Vin was soaked by the time we had Ezra shifted around so that the hot spray of the water fell on his shivering form. 

I held him firmly in my arms, letting his cold face press against my neck. Keeping one arm firmly around my friend, I started to gently stroke his back in what I hope was a soothing manner.  It seemed to do some good because I felt him shift a little closer to me.  Keeping the petting up I started telling him to wake up, that we had him and we were worried.  

It seemed like forever before he stopped shivering and his skin seemed to have lost some of that coldness, but in reality it was probably about five minutes.  Happy at that small success I still was worried that he showed no other signs of coming around.  My gaze met an equally worried one from Vin who stood at the ready if I needed him or if I slipped.

When the water reached my calves, Vin shut off the shower. With care we maneuvered Ezra around so that we could gently lower him into the hot water.  Vin knelt down, not caring about the water that was soaking the knees of his jeans, as I used his shoulder to carefully step out of the shower.  He gently sponged Ezra’s face with a washcloth as he tried to wake him, while I quickly stripped off my soaked underwear and dried myself off.  Wrapping one of the larger towels around my waist, I joined Vin at the tub.

Vin looked up at me worriedly as he continued to gently stroke Ezra’s face. “Cowboy, I don’t like it. He should have come around by now.”

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to find some form of release for my own worry.  The only solution that I come up with was to get Ezra to the hospital.  Maybe they could figure out what is wrong with him. “Okay, Vin; get some towels from my room, we’re going to dry him off and then take him to the hospital.”

Nodding his agreement, Vin left to get the towels from his and my room. I propped the FBI Agent up, making sure that Ezra couldn’t slip under the water before I got back. I quickly went to the other room to pull on my jeans before returning to the bathroom.  Sitting on the side of the tub, I gently brushed the damp hair back from my friend’s forehead as I waited for Vin to get back.  I just prayed that Ezra would be ok.
 

VIN'S POV - July 23, 2005

I returned to Ez’s room with the extra towels and noticed that Chris had pulled on his jeans. When he saw me he pulled the plug, letting the water drain out as we worked together to lift Ezra from the tub, both of us getting wetter in the process.  Ignoring the uncomfortable feel of wet denim, I wrapped a couple of towels around Ezra to keep him warm before Chris swept him up into his arms.  I followed Chris back to the bedroom with the remaining towels, making sure that Larabee didn’t bang one of Ezra’s legs or head against the bathroom doorframe.  

Chris gently laid Ezra down on the double bed before grabbing one of the towels I was carrying.  He started at the top while I quickly started to dry the southerner’s feet and legs.  We just finishing drying him off when Ezra gave a small moan, letting us know he was coming around.  I tucked Ezra’s feet under the bedding as Chris pulled the sheets up, tucking him in.  I took the towels back into the bathroom and tried to dry the floor before dumping them in the tub for room service in the morning.

When I came back out, I saw that Ezra was just waking up. Walking over to the side of the bed, I looked down into a confused pair of green-eyes. “Hello pard, how are you feeling?”

Blinking up at me he asked, “Vin, what happened? The last thing I remember – ” Ezra’s eyes widened and he sat up in bed, shock evident in his face and voice. “The ghost … he was on the roof …”. His eyes shifted from my face to Chris’ and back to mine, to see if we believed him.

I sat down next to him. “Chris and I saw, pard.”

Sitting down beside him, Chris cupped Ezra’s face between his hands peering into the southerner’s eyes to see if he could see if he could see anything wrong. “Ez, you have been unconscious for almost half hour or more.  Are you dizzy?”

“No –”

“Sick to your stomach?”

Ezra gently tugged at Chris’s hands so that he would release him.  “No.  Chris I’m all right.  I’m just a little cold and tired.  That’s all.”

I grasped his shoulder causing him to turn to me.  “Are you sure?”

He gave me a weak smile, “I’m sure my friend.  I just need a little rest.  I promise no more midnight walks with ghosts.”

I started to smile when something seemed to brush past me.  The temperature in the room quickly dropped, causing not only Ez to shiver, but Chris and me as well.  I pulled my gun from the back of my jeans where I had tucked it while Chris retrieved from the bedside table.  All of us knew something was happening but this time we waited and the room got awful cold all of a sudden. Ezra started to shiver, and all of us knew something was happening. Then in the far corner of the room a figure started to materialize. It was the ghost.

I placed myself between it and the two men on the bed; I wasn’t about to let it come anywhere near either of them. But when it was solid enough that I could see its face I relaxed. I could tell it was upset at what it had done. Ignoring the other two men he looked at me. “I’m sorry … he just looked so much like my Ez … when I saw him it was like he was there … it’s just been so long.”

My heart ached for this being, at the pain and sorrow that rolled off it in waves. “As long as you don’t do it again.”

I could tell that he wanted ask us for something but it was hard on him. “It won’t happen again … but I … I … we need your help. Please help us. I know I have no right to ask this of you but please, we need your help.”

The plea, filled with such loneliness, touched that spot in me that used to be empty before I found my soul brothers. I spare a quick look over my shoulder at my two friends to see what they thought about helping this lost soul.  At the look of determination and compassion that shone from both their faces, I knew that they wanted to help.

I turned back to the ghost and my heart went out to this trapped being, unable to move on and separated for well over a century from all those he knew and loved, what else could we do but help?

“How can we help you?”

Joy lit the ghost’s face but soon became very serious. “You need to find where Ezra hid his mother’s journal to prove that she did murder us. Only then can we move on … but … you might run into a problem.”

I sure in the hell didn’t like the sound of that. “What kind of problem?”

The ghost took a step closer his expression screaming concern as he told us. “There is a force that might try to stop you. It doesn’t want the journal found because it would cease to exist and it doesn’t want that. Chris and I think maybe … maybe it’s Maude’s desire to keep Ezra with her. If you can find someway to get to our Ezra he would be able to help you, but that force will try to stop you.”

Great, so not only do we have three ghosts that can’t rest, but also an evil force that doesn’t want to die so it will try to stop us. Just great. I was tempted to change my mind but I knew that I couldn’t. I couldn’t let anything suffer like these beings were.

Sighing, I looked at the ghost and told him, “All right, we’ll help you.” 

EZRA POV - July 23, 2005

I was still in a daze as the ghost of the tracker made his plea for our help.  I knew we had to help them, but my mind was also dwelling on the fact that we were talking to  … a ghost … a ghost who resembled Vin to a disturbing degree.

The thought of Vin dead or any of my teammates dying was like a cold knot in my heart.  Rationally I knew that in our line it was risky and there was no guarantee of a long life.  But we tended to suppress those disturbing thoughts that only come out at night in nightmares that we frantically try to forget when we are awake.  Telling ourselves that it won’t happen to us. The only thing is that all it would take is a lucky bullet and we would lose a member of not only our team … but family as well.  I’m not sure that the loss would ever fade for any of us.  It would either pull us apart or pull us together making us stronger, but still missing that part of us that was no more.

When a cool breezed caressed a certain part of my anatomy that was usually clothed I realized that I was naked under the sheet and comforter that was wrapped around me.  Another freezing tentacle reached in between the gaps, causing me to shiver and to shift closer to the heat source to my right.  It was only when Chris tightened his arm around me that I realized that he had me tucked possessively against him, sheltering me with his own body and providing heat to me.

I then turned to see that Vin was standing in such a way that he would block any move the ghost might make towards Chris or me.  I was overwhelmed, for I knew that they were my best friends, but to see that these men would protect me by putting themselves in harms way was something I had only read about in stories.  I knew that if the ghost decided to attack there was little they could do, for there would be no way we could fight him.  How do you fight a ghost if it wishes to harm you?  From out of nowhere, the theme from Ghostbusters suddenly started to play in my mind, making me wanting-want to laugh insanely at the situation we were in. 

I must have let some sound escape me and felt Chris give me a one arm hug and whisper, “Relax … nothing is going to happen.  I won’t let it.” 

I know that simple declaration shouldn’t have calmed my nerves, but it did.  If it were anyone else I would have looked at him as if he had lost his mind, but this was Chris.  This was a man that had never let me down, who backed me against everyone and only one of seven people that I can trust.  Slowly my muscles relaxed and as I did I found the tension just seemed to leak out of me; causing me to feel extremely tired and making it difficult for me to concentrate.  I felt my eyes drift closed and I fought it, but the call of Hypnos to sleep was far too strong. The last conscious thought that I had was that I safe with Chris and everything would be fine.

When the ghost had faded leaving the three men alone, Vin turned to look at his two companions only to notice that Ezra was sound asleep, head rested comfortably on the blond’s lap, one of Chris’ arms holding their friend protectively close.

Smiling, Vin sat down gingerly so that he wouldn't wake the southerner.  “He looks much better.  Poor guy, he's not having a good day.”

Chris looked down, smiling at his sleeping FBI Agent and gently petted his hair, enjoying the soft silk feel of it under his hand.  “No he hasn't, but I don't want to leave him alone tonight.  I don't like the sound of that force thing ... or whatever it is that's hanging around.  It might try to hurt any of us, so no one is to be alone until we leave here. Agreed?”

Stretching his back, Vin told Chris. “Sure Cowboy.  So who takes first watch?”

Gently Chris lifted Ezra's head from his lap and placed the sleeping man back onto his own pillow.  “I will.  There is plenty of room for you on the bed Vin, so get comfortable.  I’ll wake you in a couple of hours.”

Vin removed his boots and lay down beside the FBI Agent, falling asleep quickly.  Chris sat in the only chair and watched his men sleeping.  His mind wandering over the events of the day, but his thoughts kept being interrupted, as his eyes rested on the two men in the bed.  Vin was lying on his back while Ezra had rolled over to rest his head on Vin's shoulder, an arm wrapped around the Detective's middle. With both of their faces relaxed in sleep, the two men looked younger than JD.

Chris smiled at the sight and relaxed back in his chair.  His thoughts turned to the problem of the ghosts and a cold knot started to form in the center of his chest.  The tracker looked so much like Vin it scared him right down to his boots.  He didn’t want to think about any of his friends dying and did everything in his power to ignore the persistent thought … that is until the ghost made itself known.  

To see Vin’s face on the ghost’s and know that this was just a shade of someone long dead, brought to light the fact any of his friends could be killed at any time.  The blond knew that in their line of work they took that risk but seeing the ghost hit too close to home.  Chris leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees, his face cradled in his hands as he gently rubbed his forehead.  

The first thing Vin noticed when Chris woke him at four was that he had wrapped himself around Ezra.  The southerner was still sleeping soundly, buried under the blankets so that only the top of his head could be seen.  Gently, Vin extracted himself from his sleeping companion, getting off the bed to allow Chris his time to sleep.

Vin sat down in the same chair that the commanding blond had done his watch in and observed his friend holding himself stiffly, lying as far from the curled up southerner as he could get. The Detective just watched the odd behavior and hoped that the blond would get some sleep.

The young man got comfortable, picked up the local newspaper and started to read it.  About an hour later he looked up and Chris was now occupying the same position that he had been in when he had awoke.  The blond had his arm around Ezra, his hand on the southerner’s bare stomach, holding him tightly against his body and resting his cheek on the other man’s head.

Smiling at the protective nature of his friend, especially where Ezra was concerned, Vin had to admit to himself he was just as protective.  The FBI Agent’s job was one of the most dangerous and stressful of them all tracking and detaining Terrorist one slip and hundreds or thousands could die.  If anything went wrong Ezra would be the first to be harmed, the first to die, but not if Chris, Major Crimes or himself could prevent it.

He was about to pick up one of the magazines to read when a movement from the bed caught his attention.  The southerner had tried to roll over on his back, which caused Chris to do so. Ezra then wiggled around until he was resting his head over the blond’s heart and his hand on Larabee’s hip.  Chris wrapped his arm around the southerner holding him against his chest.  The way that the two men were wrapped around one another was adorable and on the blond’s part protective.

Another scene just a few hours ago flashed through his mind bringing with it the image of Ezra standing in the ghost’s thrall and then collapsing to the rooftop when he was released.   Vin could remember how his heart stopped beating as he watched it all and the overwhelming fear that the southerner was gone; taken by something he couldn’t fight with any weapon at his disposal.

Vin got up from his chair and started to pace around the room and stopped in front of the window looking out over the sleeping town.  He tried to put the thought of any of his friends dying out of his mind but it wouldn’t let go and it kept him occupied until the sun started to rise.

The two ghosts stood quietly in the corner, watching the three men in the room.

The shade of gunslinger looked over at the long-dead tracker.  “Vin, do you think they can help us?”

The blue-eyed shade looked up at his friend.  “I think they are our only and best chance, but we’ve got to help them.  They can’t do it all themselves.”

“Then I should go and tell Lorna Wells about them.  She could break through to Ezra with their help.”  The ghost of the gunslinger reached out and firmly grasped the arm of the tracker, conveying his command to be careful.  The tracker gently squeezed back before the gunfighter disappeared.

The tracker leaned against the wall, making himself comfortable as he took up his protective watch over the three mortal men.  Knowing that they were their last chance to find eternal rest.

EZRA POV - July 23, 2005

The first thing I noticed upon waking was the steady solid heartbeat under my ear. Keeping my eyes closed I just listened to that steady rhythm, letting it soothe and wrap me in the safety that it promised.  The next thing that registered to my befuddled half-asleep mind was the feeling of strong arms, holding me gently against a very male chest.  Once that fact registered it had me wide-wake, but I lay perfect still, trying to figure out what was going on without giving away to anyone that I was awake.  As the events of the previous evening started to replay in my mind I realized that it could only be one of my friends that I was snuggling tightly against.  I must have tensed, causing the large warm hand that resting in the small of my back to use gentle soft strokes to make me relax and surprisingly I did. 

Then I felt a presence near the bed and a New Mexican drawl said, “Come on Cowboy, time to wake up.”

I was sleeping on Mr. Larabee!

I felt Chris stir and some instinct told me to fake that I was still sound asleep.  I felt a small movement of his chest to indicate that he was looking down at me.  Keeping myself relaxed, I felt Chris brushed my hair out of my face and tuck it behind my ear like I remembered my father doing when I was very young.  His arms tightened around me as he rolled to the side.  He then gently arranged me so I was lying comfortably on my pillow before standing up.  He turned and tucked the sheet up under my chin, as he would do for a child.

Then I felt him place his palm on my forehead, checking for a fever before gently brushing the hair from my forehead.  “No fever, so he should be alright.  Just let him sleep a little more.  Any sign of trouble?”

Trouble?

What trouble?

They stayed to protect me obviously, but from what? 

Were they in danger as well?

“I didn't see anything, but I felt someone watching over us.  I think it was that ghost.  I guess he felt responsible and stood watch with me.”  That was Vin's voice.

Interesting.

“Chris, I don't like that dark force the ghost mentioned.  I have a bad feeling something is going to happen because of it.”  The worry in Vin's voice made me uneasy as well.  Anytime the wily New Mexican had a hunch it usually meant trouble was on the way.  On top of Vin's hunch, my own instincts were telling me that we should get out of town as fast as possible, but we made a promise to help and I would hate to break it.

“Same with me Vin, but if we stick together we should be alright, I have a feeling the ghosts will try to help as much as possible.”

Well that clinched it, the three of us with the same bad feelings. Something is going to happen, I better prepare myself for anything and to keep my two friends safe.  

All three men made their way down stairs and started to walk to the little restaurant across the street.  This time they dressed, trying to conceal as much of themselves as possible, which met baseball caps and sunglasses.

Larabee felt ridiculous, trying to sneak out of the hotel without being recognized like he was some movie star or something.  As Chris passed the check in desk, the man from yesterday called out to him hesitantly. “Mr. Larabee, there is a note for you.”  Chris accepted the folded paper held out by the manager and opened it.  Inside was a message for the three of them.  A Lorna Wells requested to see them at 10:30 a.m. to discuss their role in helping the ghosts and left instructions on how to get to her place.

He then passed the note onto Vin, who passed it to Ezra.  Looking at his watch, Chris saw it was almost ten o'clock.  The three men decided to stop on the way to Ms. Wells’ place to pick up some breakfast.

It was a beautiful morning and the three enjoyed the short walk.  Ezra looked at the neat little house with the luscious Rose garden in front and started to explore the little paradise. 

Then a pleasant voice asked him, “Do you like roses Mr. Standish?”

Turning, the three men encountered a small woman around seventy-five in a large hat carrying roses and smiling in a grandmotherly sort of way.  All three of them removed their hats and glasses to greet this diminutive woman.

Ezra went over to take the basket from her and offered his arm to escort her into the house. “Yes ma'am.  My father has a rose garden very much like yours.  It brings back very fond memories of times the two of us spent there.”

Slipping her arm into Ezra's, Lorna gave him a gracious smile.  “Well gentlemen, please let's us make ourselves comfortable.”

Once inside she ushered them into the parlor and brought out tea and coffee for her guests.  Taking a seat she looked over at the three men who bore a remarkable resemblance to the three ghosts, but unlike the town folk she could see the slight differences between the living and dead.

Sitting a little straighter in her chair she looked at each man and told them, “Gentlemen, I was contacted by one of the ghosts last night and it told me of your offer to help them.  I have to thank you for your help.  I have seen them suffer for 70 years and to finally be so close to freeing them ... it just feels good.  Thank you gentlemen.”  Putting down her tea she then became all business.  “All right gentlemen let’s get down to work.    Mr. Standish why don't you bring your chair closer, because I think you could be the one to break through the barrier and reached your ghostly counterpart.”

Ezra picked up his chair and brought it closer to her.  Once seated he turned a puzzled look her way and asked, “Ms. Wells, how am I suppose to reach him?”

Taking Ezra's hands in hers she told him, “I'm going to put you into a trance and hopefully you will be able to make contact.  Now I just want you to relax and listen to my voice.”

Ezra was skeptical but the experiences in this town had opened his eyes to possibilities he never imagined.  Doing as Ms. Wells told him, he felt himself floating free only to encounter a black shadow that radiated evil, hate and vengeance.  The FBI Agent took a step back but heard Ms. Wells calling encouragement, he pushed through the sticky inkiness and come face to face ... with himself. 

Time seemed to stand still for both of them as they looked over their counterpart, noting the differences but also the similarities.   Ezra took a tentative step forward when he saw the ghost’s eyes widen and the hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up.  The man started to turn to face the danger when he was tackled.  Instinctively Ezra grabbed hold of the other as he fell back through the shadows into himself, bringing the ghost with him. 

It had been a half hour since Ezra had fallen into the trance, causing Chris and Vin to become more and more worried as the minutes continue to tick by without any sign that the southerner was going to come out of it.  Chris had enough of just sitting there and got up to kneel down beside his FBI Agent.  The blond cautiously reached out to take Ezra’s hand in a firm grip, wanting the other man to know that he was there and hoped that he could be the anchor that brought his friend back from wherever he had gone off to. 

Vin touched Chris on the shoulder as he knelt down beside him to take Ezra’s other hand, wanting to do his part in helping bring their friend back.  Both men intently watched their friend’s face, noting that the southerner looked like he was fast asleep, but for the fact Ezra was sitting up and the rapid eye movement telling both men that something was going on in another plane.

It took a second for it to register on both Vin and Chris that Ezra had opened his eyes, but their joy was cut suddenly short for they noticed that there was something different about their friend.

The ghost of the gambler looked out of his living counterpart's eyes and took his first breath since his death.  It was then that he noticed the two men who were kneeling beside him.  It had been over a 125 years since he last seen those two faces as he stood the final watch for his friends.  Tentatively he reached out with shaking hands to gently touch the faces of his two friends, something that he had been denied even in death. 

Feeling the warmth of living flesh beneath his fingertips had the gambler letting out a shaky breath.   With a glad cry the gambler reached out and embraced Chris in a warm tight hug.

To say Chris was shocked would be an understatement for Ezra didn’t like to be touched, but he found himself responding to that gentle hug and returned it, letting the southerner rest his head against his neck.  Gently he caressed the other man’s back when he felt the southerner’s body shake with emotion, knowing that this is what exactly Ezra needed. 

The southerner pulled back to cup the blond’s face between his hands.  Voice husky with emotion, he said, “Chris, it’s been so long, ah missed you.” He then turned to Vin and continued, his southern accent very prevalent. “Vin” Ezra whispered, before hugging the Detective.

Vin couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw Ezra hugging Chris, for the man loved his personal space. Seeing the tiny shivers in the tense shoulders of the southerner had the Detective reaching out to gently pet the FBI Agent’s back, offering his own comforting words to the ones whispered by Chris.  When the southerner pulled away from Chris and turned to him, he found himself automatically opening his arms and embracing his friend in a fierce hug.  Both of them buried their faces against the other’s neck, while Ezra clutched the back of Vin’s shirt, holding on for dear life.

The embrace was broken by the sound of someone clearing their throat, which had them turning to a very stern looking Ms. Wells who was looking pointedly at the southerner.  “Ezra, you weren’t supposed to possess Mr. Standish, you were only to tell him where the journals were.”

Vin and Chris looked stunned as it dawned on them that it wasn’t their Ezra that had embraced them, but the ghost of the gambler.  The ghost pulled back from the two men; he now realized weren’t his long missed brothers.  He took a minute to collect himself before turning to smile charmingly up at Ms. Wells and told her.  “Ah can assure you my dear woman that it was totally unintentional.  Mother was about to hurt this young man and A’am could not stand to see it happen.  Somehow he pulled me back with him.  So here A’am.”

Then he turned to look searchingly at the two men beside him.  They look remarkably like his Vin and Chris, but as he looked he could see little differences.  These men weren’t his long time friends and brothers.  Gently accessing the memories of the man whose body he was in, he could see the friendship that had developed, not only between these two but also with his other four friends that were absent.  He could see that the FBI Agent had a hard time accepting that they were his friends and that they would not betray him. 

The betrayals and let downs that this man had experienced in his live, from not only his mother but others as well, made the ghost realize that both of them had much in common. But he had learned the true meaning of friendship that this living one hasn’t quiet accepted.  Hasn’t accepted because of the past that had prevented them … a past filled with lies that this living Ezra told and his mother told.  The gambler started to open his mouth to tell the two men about the FBI Agent’s past when the other jumped him.

The living Ezra had felt the ghost accessing his memories and felt what the ghost intended to do.  Afraid, Ezra imagined wrapping his arms and legs around the ghost, stopping him from doing anything.  The only sign this internal wrestling match was going on was Ezra’s eyes rolling upwards and him collapsing into the Detective’s arms.

Larabee shoved the chair aside to get to his unconscious friend, while Vin cradled Ezra’s body in his arms, panicky blue eyes seeking assurance from his captain.  Chris helped roll the southerner unto his back, cradling the man between the two of them.  Gently the blond turned the southerner’s pale face towards him and tapped it, trying to wake him. “Ezra … come on Ez … wake up.  You’re scaring us … come on wake up.”

Both men were so worried about their friend that they didn’t notice the room’s temperature dropping, as two ghostly figures appeared to kneel beside them.  

The ghost stopped struggling in the mental hold of the FBI Agent.  He could feel the panic that radiated off the other man and lay quietly until the other relaxed.

He could understand why the other panicked and reached out to gently caress the arms that held him, trying to give comfort and to calm the mortal down.

Ezra felt the ghost surrender and slowly released his death grip on the spirit.  He looked pleadingly at the dead gambler and asked, “Please don’t tell them?  I don’t want to lose them as friends. If they found out that I lied to them about my life they will feel betrayed.  I just can’t.  I finally have people besides my father and grandfather that care about me, friends that would die for me and I for them.  If you tell them my secrets I would lose everything that I have built with them in Dallas.  I don’t want that.”

The gambler looked at the man that he was sharing this body with.  He was astonished at the resemblance between them; he could tell that this man had the same fear of losing those he held dear as he did.  Holding out his hand, the ghost told the living man, “Ah promise Sir, not to do anything to harm you.  Friends?”

The FBI Agent reached out his own hand and replied, “Friends.” 

---

Vin and Chris watched as Ezra’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as he was coming to.  They cradled him more securely between them, gently stroking his face and talking to him, wanting him to feel safe and secure. 

Slowly, confused green eyes opened to look up at them.  Looking into those eyes, both men could tell that they belonged to their FBI Agent and not that of the long dead gambler.  

Ezra struggled to sit up, feeling a little dizzy as he did so, which had him groan and cradle his head in his hands.  Slowly he became aware of strong arms supporting him, making him feel secure in their embrace.   As the feeling of dizziness slowly left him he lifted his head and looked into the concerned eyes of his two friends.  Ezra squeezed Chris’s hand that rested on his thigh while giving Vin a gentle smile.  A movement behind his two friends grabbed Ezra’s attention and he looked over their shoulder, right into the concerned faces of … two ghosts.  

The two men saw the southerner’s eyes widen as he looked over their shoulders.  It was only then that they felt the hairs on the back of their necks standing up.   Swinging around, Chris moved so that his body blocked access to Ezra and Vin, while the New Mexican had pulled the Southern into the shelter of his arms. Both men were determined to put themselves between their vulnerable friend and any danger that might be threatening them from behind.    

Chris looked into a face that was a mirror image of his own.  The ghost of the gunslinger squatted; give his living counterpart a once over.  Neither male giving an inch to the other until the raspy voice of the tracker told them, “Pards you might want to turn down the glares, you just might set something on fire.” 

The two alpha males looked a little sheepishly at each other, then the gunslinger asked, “Is he alright?” 

Chris turned around to look down at the pale face of his FBI Agent, gently cradled in Vin’s protective arms.  Twisting around, he leaned over the southerner and reach out to stroke one pale cheek. “How are you feeling Ezra?” 

Without knowing it, Ezra snuggled into Vin’s embrace, prompting the other man to hold him tighter.  “Just tired Chris.” 

Chris smiled down at this friend and gently told the tired man, “Go to sleep Ezra.” 

The green eyes closed without argument, then they suddenly opened and the four men knew this was not the FBI Agent’s soul looking out at them.  The ghost of the gambler moved the mortal body he was in away from the two live men, concentrating on the ghosts before him.  Three pairs of eyes filled with friendship and love looked at each other, they reached out towards one another, stopping just shy of touching. 

Chris and Vin looked on in wonderment at the friendship and love expressed between the three men.  The longing in the three ghosts' voices and eyes, the way they reached for one another, brought tears to both living men's eyes at the pain these poor souls had suffered.   

The clearing of a female throat had the men and ghosts turning towards Lorna.  “Gentlemen, I hate to interrupt, but Ezra you have to allow Mr. Standish and yourself to rest.  This has been very tiring for you both.”  In her eyes the ghosts saw understanding and hope that their 125 years of hell would come to an end.  That the three of them could finally rest after their long years chained to this earth and joined their families in the afterlife. 

The three old west men nodded their heads in agreement, as the green-eyes of the FBI Agent closed and his body slumped, only to be caught by the other two men.  Both the ghosts and the living men hovered over the sleeping southerner until Ms. Wells’ voice broke through their daze they had slipped into.  “Mr. Larabee, Mr. Tanner, we should get Mr. Standish to some place comfortable so he can rest.  If you could pick him up and follow me?” 

Chris and Vin lifted the exhausted man so that they could carry him between them into the bedroom that Lorna directed him to.  The blond gently held the sleeping southerner as Vin pulled back the sheets and quilt.  Chris then gently settled his friend on the bed, as Vin  removing the southerner’s boots before covering him with a quilt.  Chris gently stroked the side of Ezra’s face, feeling the southerner gently turn towards him as he sighed.  The blond smiled at the innocent picture the southerner made as the man snuggled into the soft pillow. He then exited the room, closing the door so that their voices wouldn’t wake him. 

Returning to the living room he was met by the others.  Plans and decisions were made so that the three ghosts could finally be free of their prisons.

The coiled darkness twisted in its madness, frustration and anger, for it’s beloved had somehow escaped the protection it had created for him.   Escaped with the help of the other. 

The darkness slowly condensed into a body that was faintly that of a human female with large black wings that were spread wide with her rage.  As the figure finally became solid it roared her frustration as she slashed the walls, leaving long grooves in the hard earth.  The creature lowered it’s wings, letting the leather skin wrap around her.  As it did so the wings became a flowing gown while the demonic features smoothed into that of a beautiful woman except for the eyes, which were inhuman in the blackness. 

The demon woman started to pace the dank underground room until she noticed her surroundings.  With a wave of her talon hand, it was transformed into a large bedroom, richly furnished.  

Satisfied with the changes she had made, she moved over to a little alcove and parted the green silk hangings to look down at the body that she had preserved with her power.  Her eyes soften as she moved over to the still form of a man laying on raised platform.  The clothing the figure wore was well over a hundred years old and by the look it he would have been considered a gambler.  The short red jacket came to his hips, while a fine white cotton shirt peaked through the v of the colorful vest.  Black pin strip pants led down to finely fashioned boots that finished the outfit.  

She reached out to run her hand through the man’s hair before gently caressing the dead man’s cheek.  She leaned down and gently kissed the figure’s cold lifeless lips before straightening up.  “Soon beloved … Soon you will be with me for all - eternity.” 

The demon started to turn away before she froze as she remembering two pair of large green-eyes that had turned to her … eyes that were a duplicate of her beloved’s.  She paused as she pulled up that memory of the other that stole her beloved from the protected room that she couldn’t enter.  Her eyes widened when she realized that the stranger wore her beloved’s face. 

She moved into the room and sat down in a plush chair, staring blankly into the fire.   The darkness taped a talon finger on the fine wood thinking about how sad the beloved had been through the years as it waited.  Could this other bring happiness to the beloved?  

The darkness sent out her mind to try to locate the stranger until she found him asleep in Lorna Wells’ home.  The demon smiled at how easy it would be to enter and remove the sleeping man that was until she felt the others she had thought she had conquered so long ago.  Snarling she stood, her anger transformed her back into the demon she truly was as her leathery wings touched the ceiling.   

She called out to the darkness that gift her with so much power, vowed that the twisted ones would be given to it allowing it to destroyed their bodies and devour their souls.  The ancient evil accepted her gift and promised to return her true beloved to life as well as this new one.  Both would be hers for all eternity.

Four spirits of the lawmen that use to patrol the town had been silent witness for over a hundred and twenty-file years to murders that this creature had inflected on their town.  When alive they had started to try to figure it out and when they drew close to figuring out the creature came for them.  Robbing them not only of their lives but, in the case of JD and Nathan, the chance to be there for their children.  Instead they were force to watch the creature commit murder after murder, unable to stop it because of the thick barrier that kept them separated from it but, also their three friends.   

Hatred for the creature burned in their hearts as they watched it try time after time to get to the gambler only to be driven back because of the barrier that surrounded the southerner.  They had watched as Chris, Ezra and Vin had to relive their deaths over and over and they vowed to all that is holy that the creature would pay.  Pay for their brothers’ deaths and imprisonment and all of the others that it had killed to feed and grow in power.  

Then everything had changed when the three strangers had arrived in town.  It was like a fresh breeze that swept through the town, slowly tearing apart the murky cloud that had enveloped it since the creature had come into its power.  It was JD who started to notice that the barrier was weakening and soon they would be free.   Free to rescue their brothers and wreak long overdue punishment on the creature.

When the creature finally noticed the three strangers, they tried to break through the weakened barrier but were unable to.  Instead they witnessed the vow that the creature made and the promised award the devil would reward the demon.  All of them were determined to see that the creature would fail even if it caused them their souls.

Lorna Wells and the three men approached Sheriff Dunne about searching the gambler’s room for the fabled journals.  He wasn’t sure about allowing them to do so, fearing damages to the historical site, until Lorna closed the blinds and the two long dead lawmen requested that they be allow to do so. 

After the sheriff recovered from the shock he was more than willing to help, he too had seen the three ghosts suffering and wanted to do something.  He then escorted them over to the saloon to help them in their search, but as soon as they entered everything went wrong. 

There were few customers in the saloon at 3:12pm, as the four men and one woman entered.  All present knew Sheriff Dunne and Ms. Wells but the three men behind the two long-term residents caused a stir.  They watched as the group moved towards the staircase, but as they approached it a black cloud started to roll down from the second floor towards them.

The hairs on the back of Dunne’s neck stood up as he saw that cloud, but when he felt the madness and evil radiating from its core he knew that he had to get the civilians to safety.  He grabbed Ms. Wells’ arm to push her out of the saloon as he shouted at the other patrons “Get Out! Now!”  Dunne and the three Law Enforcement Officers stayed by the door to help the civilians exit the building, but as they were about to leave the darkness struck.  It threw the three Agents to the other side of the room while it shoved the Sheriff out the door.  As soon as Dunne was outside the building, all the doors and windows vanished, covered in black oozing goo reeking of death, madness and decay. 

Mothers and fathers clutched their children who were screaming in fear, couples held each other as they watched in frozen shock as the blackness started to spread to the other buildings and across the street.  Suddenly, flashes of blue light started to dance along the liquid, attacking it, driving it back until it was confined only to the saloon.

Chris and Vin fought a choking sensation as the black fog tightened a coil of itself around each of their necks, cutting off their air supply. The FBI Agent frantically tried to pull the darkness from his friend’s throats, only to watch his hands pass through it like smoke.  Suddenly the ghosts of the tracker and gunslinger appeared, shooting rays of light into the darkness, driving it from the two mortal lawmen lying near death on the floor.

The blackness retreated from the fury of the two long dead lawmen, but not before it made a last ditch effort to snatch it’s prize.  It reached out black tentacles and wrapped around the FBI Agent’s legs and pulled the southerner toward itself. 

Ezra was unprepared for the attack and fell to the floor hard knocking the breath out of him.  It took a few seconds for him to realize what was happening and he frantically began reaching out to grab at anything to stop his progression towards the darkness.  Chris and Vin laid grasping for breath when they heard something fall.  Twisting over they saw that the darkness was dragging Ezra toward itself.  Scrambling across the floor, Chris and Vin finally dove forward to capture their friend's hands but even with their body weight it didn’t even slow their progression towards the darkness. 

The three men desperately tried everything to free Ezra from the creature’s grip, but nothing was stopping it.  The southerner knew that his friends couldn’t stop his slide towards death and if he didn’t do something soon they would join him.  He had to prevent that at all cost.

Chris and Vin both saw the decision shining from their friend’s eyes and the blond snarled in desperation. “Don’t … you dare … leave us Ezra!” as he strained with his whole body to pull the southerner back, but instead slid forward another inch.

Vin was just as frantic as Chris and growled out from clenched teeth, “We’re not … going ... to ... let ... you … go, Ez.  You’re going … to stay with us.”

Green-eyes flashed in rage and fear as Larabee ground out, “Damn right … we’re not letting … you go … not for anything…”

Knowing he had only a few more seconds to live Ezra looked into their eyes opening all windows to his soul and heart.  Letting them see what he felt for them and whispered, “I love … you both … I … live … remember me.”  The southerner then yanked his hands from their grips.

Heart-breaking cries of “No!” vibrated through the room as the southerner was swallowed up by the darkness.  But as both Tanner and Larabee made a dive towards the darkness, two pairs of strong hands stopped them.  The two men could only watch helplessly as the darkness retreated into the woodwork leaving no trace of the FBI Agent or itself behind.

Both men laid on the floor where they had last touched Ezra, both men lost in anger and grief.  Chris turned to those who prevented him from rescuing his friend and brother, to snarl, “Why did --”.  He froze as he looked up into his long-time best friend’s face, but realized that was not the case.  For it was not his Buck, but the dead lawman that protected this town so long ago.  Looking to the right he saw that the ghost of Dunne was the one to prevent Vin from going after Ezra, while the ghost Josiah held the long-dead gunslinger, and Jackson the tracker.  Shaking off the transparent hands of the dead lawman, Chris sat up to crawl towards Vin, who’s defeat showed in the man’s lowered head.  The blond gently wrapped his arms around the other man, who returned the embrace.  Both men clung to each other in their grief as they came to terms with their loss. 

With a gasp, Ezra awoke to find himself in total darkness.  Not one speck of light could be seen in the total darkness, but his body and fingertips told him that he rested on hard packed dirt.  This was confirmed by the earthy smell that reminded the southerner of the times he helped Rebecca, his father’s housekeep store her preserves in the basement as a boy.   

Still feeling a little dizzy, he sat up. Carefully he reached out around himself trying to get some idea as to where he was.  As he reached to the left he felt damp stones and after a few seconds of exploration he realized that it was a wall.  Standing up he felt the wall, trying to determine how tall it was and found that he couldn’t reach the ceiling.  The FBI Agent determined that he was underground someplace. 

Then it dawned on him that the presence of the gambler's ghost was gone from his mind.  Wetting his lips he whispered, “Mr. Standish ... Ezra ... are you ... are you there?” 

A dim light grew as the ghost started to form in front of him.  For the first time he came face to face with his ghostly counterpart in the real world.  Both men took this time to look at each other, to note the differences but also to draw strength from each other. 

The FBI Agent looked around the darkness, asking the ghost.  “Do you know where we are?” 

The ghost squatted beside the Agent, shaking his head as he also scanned the darkness.  “No.  Something is preventing me from leaving here.” 

Sighing, the FBI Agent stood and brushed off his hands and the seat of his pants.  “Well, let's try to find out where we are.” 

The ghost and man moved together, with the glow from the long dead gambler providing some light as they began their search.  The first thing they noticed was that the ceiling and the first wall showed dirt between the wooden support beams.  This confirmed the FBI Agent's suspicion, they were trapped underground.  Following the wall he came across a little desk, chair and a lantern.  Finding matches in a drawer, the FBI Agent lit the lantern and sighed as soft golden light lit up the small room.   He then turned as he heard a shocked exclamation from the gambler. “Oh Lord!” 

The FBI Agent totally understood the shock that the ghost was experiencing.  On one wall of the cellar room were pictures and portraits of the gambler, filling the space.  Some were old photographs, but the majority were sketches, the paper old and yellow with stains.  The FBI Agent moved closer to look at the display when the photograph of seven men caught his eye.  It was the same one that Sheriff Dunne showed them with the images of the gunslinger and tracker defaced.  A chill went down Ezra’s spine for this seemed to be the classic case of obsession.  

Moving back to the desk, Ezra started to search it for the identity of the person responsible for this room.  Knowing deep in his heart that if he could find out who it was, it would also tell him about the being that had kidnapped them.  The ghost just stared at the wall filled with his image, with the dawning suspicion that he might have been wrong about his mother.  That she was not responsible for his friend’s deaths. 

The FBI Agent couldn't find anything in the desk and sat back to look at it.  Something wasn't right about it, the top of the desk seemed too thick. 

A secret compartment.

Running his sensitive fingers along the top, he found tiny groves to suggest the presence of a hidden space.  Quickly he searched for the release, pressing it when he found it.  Up popped the section he had identified, revealing a swallow indent containing three journals. Withdrawing the books, he found the first belonged to Ezra P. Standish, the second to Maude Standish, the third belonging to someone else.  Taking the third journal, the FBI Agent sat down to scan the pages for clues, while the ghost went over to the tattered remains of a curtain covering an alcove.   Pushing it aside he peeked into the space beyond, crying out in shock at seeing a mummified corpse in tattered clothing lying on a bed.

The FBI Agent quickly came to the side of the ghost and pushed aside the material to look at the corpse.  Lifting the lantern higher, the Agent scanned the body, noticing that the rags remaining on the skeleton gave the impression that they were the same as what the ghost was wearing.  Wetting his lips he told the ghost, “Mr. Standish ... I think that this --”

“ – Its me.  Isn't it?”

The Agent turned to face the ghost and nodded. The same being that had kidnapped him had also dug up the dead body of the gambler to bring it here.  A shiver of fear entered the heart and soul of the FBI man.  Knowing he had to find out who was responsible, he returned to the journal and continued his search.

“I think I found something.”  The ghost turned to lean over the human so he could read what the FBI Agent found.  “As I pointed out before, this is written by a woman, but until this point it only detailed the various gunfights and battles that you and the rest of the seven were in.  Except now, hopefully you will know who this is.”

Agent Standish leaned closer to the lantern and started to read.

“A couple of mornings ago, the body of an assassin was found at the hotel along with $10,000.  Everything pointed to the fact that the man was after the Governor.

With the battle for statehood heating up, many of citizens of Four Corners and the surrounding areas have argued, the debates sometimes ending in flying fists and bodies. So it would make sense that the assassin was after the Governor. To this end the seven guarded the Governor, but both Mr. Tanner and Mr. Larabee seemed to have their doubts about the intended target, so they had me dig into some unsolved murders that had been following in the Governor’s trail.  They were right, but it was Ezra Standish that stepped in front of a bullet for me.  A man that I didn’t even give the time of day saved my life, willing to sacrifice his without a thought for his safety.   Like a shining knight.”

The FBI Agent turned to the ghost of the gambler who frowned and said, “Mary Travis.  What else does it say?”  The FBI Agent started to skim, reading over entries that increasing talked about how wonderful and intelligent the gambler was.  Then it changed to talk about a blooming romance between the gambler and Mary Travis that seemed to increase in passion until it started to read like some steamy romance novel.

The nagging suspicion of the FBI Agent that started with the pictures was slowly being confirmed by the increasingly shocked expression on the gambler’s face.  This Mary Travis had somehow become obsessed with the southern lawman, building a fantasy life that had nothing to do with reality.

Then they hit pay dirt.

Apparently Mrs. Travis found out that the gambler was going to leave town with Tanner and Larabee to start a ranch about a half a day’s ride from the town.  The way she saw it was that they were trying to steal away her lover and force him to give up his rightful place as the leader of the remaining peacekeepers.  In her writing she had planned out the southerner’s and her life together.  In her deranged mind she had determined that the gambler would become the Mayor of the town and then with her help he would become the Governor of Colorado and eventually the President of the United States.

With the gambler moving out to the ranch, it had put her fantasy life with the southerner in jeopardy.  She had determined that the only way for her plan to work was to see that both Tanner and Larabee died. With the two men dead, Ezra would not move away and would assume his rightful place as leader.  Even in the woman’s deranged mind she knew that it had to look like an accident; Ezra and the other lawmen would look for their friend’s murderers and she couldn’t allow that to happen.  No, it had to look like an accident.

To set her plan in motion she contacted the one person she knew would unwittingly help her with her plan.  Maude Standish.  She wrote to Maude informing her that the two men were abusing her only child and that she was afraid of what might happen.

While Mrs. Standish was on her way, Mary found two drifters willing to help her for $50.00 each.  Everything was ready once Maude arrived.  When the two women met, Mary told the other woman about the plan to reveal the two men’s true character by drugging them and letting the town folk find them trying to rob the bank.  Maude believed her because she didn’t expect a woman of Mrs. Travis’ background to be pulling a fast one on her.  So Maude accepted the knock out drug and followed through with her side of the plan, while Mary carried out her true objective. 

The death of Larabee and Tanner.

As Ezra read the gloating details about Larabee and Tanner’s funerals, he watched as the ghost sparkled in anger. First at this woman’s murderous glee in killing the two men that meant more to him than anyone else, that she killed two other men to hide her crime, and to top it off, making him think that his mother murdered his friends and brothers.  The hate he had in his heart for his mother evaporated, leaving regret and sorrow behind, along with the flame of rage that had been ignited against this woman.

The FBI Agent read about Ezra’s death, and how she paid a drifter to dig up the southerner’s body.  She then killed the man and put the body in the gambler’s grave.

As the FBI Agent continued to read, splinters of horror and fear invaded his soul. Apparently Mrs. Travis had made a pact with the devil; in return for her soul and the death of others, Ezra would be returned to her.  From that point onwards, the woman never mentioned the gambler’s death, but listed other men and women’s names.  As the FBI Agent went down the list of names and date of deaths he was shocked to see that the list continued to the present day.

Ezra put down the journal and turned towards the ghost of the gambler, as the room seemed to morph into a grand bedroom.  A large canopy bed rested against the right wall, covered in green flowing silk, while a large fire was burning in the fireplace across from it.  He was still sitting, but instead of an old table it was at a beautiful oak desk.  Looking down at himself he saw that he was dressed in a red brocade dressing gown over a white silk nightshirt.  Getting up he surveyed the room, noting the dinning table in front of the fire, the expensive furniture and paintings that decorated the room with wonder and dread.

The presence of the gambler’s ghost in his mind made itself known when the large double doors opened to admit a blonde woman in a white sheer nightgown.  He didn’t need the gambler’s rage to know that this woman was responsible for the ghost’s pain and his own as well.

The Major Crimes Captain listened to all the questions thrown at the ghost that was Maude Standish.  But there was only one question he hoped she could answer, “Do you know if our Ezra is alive?” 

Her sad but hopeful blue eyes met his. “I believe so.  But I don’t know how much longer.  She is totally insane and extremely powerful.  Gentlemen, she isn’t a ghost like us but a Succubus.” 

The ghost of the preacher started to swear at this. As the others turned to him for an explanation, he told them “A succubus is a woman that has sold her soul to the darkest evil, usually for revenge on men for being scorned.  But in this case I think she made the pact for another reason.”  The preacher looked back to the con woman for an explanation.  

“You’re right Josiah, Mary did make a pact.  She wanted Ezra to be returned to her.  I believe she will recreate her favorite fantasy, and as long as both of our Ezra’s cooperate with her, the better their chances for us to rescue them.”  Then looking at each man, living and dead, she told them, “It will take all of us to break through the barrier to rescue them.  Buck, Josiah, Nathan, and JD, once we open the doorway you four need to keep it open.  If you don’t, then we will fail.  Chris, you and Vin must merge with your living counterparts to hide your presence from her.  Your job will be to hold her until the trap has been sprung.” 

The gunslinger hadn’t forgiven or forgotten what this woman was capable of when she was alive.  Turning cold green eyes on the woman he demanded, “And what will your part be in all this?” 

Hard blue eyes met green. “I will be opening the tunnel of judgment and I will take her to be judged.”  Her voice became harsh with anger as she told them, “I will see her in Hell for what she had done to my son and to you.”  Maude’s eyes then softened, as did her voice. “You just concentrate on getting our Ezra’s out of danger.  Protect them and tell mine that I love him.”  

The Major Crime captain watched as the ghosts of the seven lawmen shuddered as she spoke of opening the tunnel; it was obviously something he really didn’t want to know about from the expressions on their faces.  He just hoped that this evil would be stopped, that Ezra would be safe, and that these long lost loves could be reunited to find peace. 

“Gentlemen, if you are ready?”  The nine men nodded their readiness, and Maude continued, “Then let us begin.” 

It took all the FBI Agent’s skill to keep the revulsion and anger from his face and voice as he played along with this fantasy the deranged creature had created.  To all appearances this was a woman, except for the eyes.  There is an old saying that eyes are the mirror to the soul, in this case the solid black eyes held only madness, pain, and death.  

The presence of the gambler’s ghost in his mind helped them both to stay ahead in this game of life and death.  He had so far fended off the succubus’ advances by being the courteous southern gentlemen she remembered, insisting that they enjoy the fine meal that was prepared.  Why rush things when they had the rest of eternity to enjoy one another?  So far it had been successful, but the meal was coming to a close and he had to do something to prevent her from getting him into that bed.  From somewhere the knowledge came, that if he failed it would be the end for both him and the gambler.  They would be forever trapped, screaming silently through eternity as they were forced to pleasure this creature. 

The Agent watched helplessly as with a smile that displayed sharp fangs, showing that this creature was indeed a demon, the succubus got up from her side of the table. She walked around the table to take his hand, without him realizing it they were half way to the bed, minus his robe.  Acting on a hunch, he pulled the demon towards him, leaning into her body as he whispered softly, “Dance with me.” 

The FBI Agent allowed the gambler to take over and waltz them around the room while he tried to come up with a plan, but the succubus was through with the romance and wanted her mate.  With a strong grip the creature brought his body close to hers as her nails shredded his silk nightgown from the neck down to the small of his back.  She then yanked the two pieces down off his shoulders so that it caught at his elbows.  He could feel the thin trail of burning scratches being cooled by the small bit of blood welling from them.  The succubus grabbed his head with a hand of iron pulled it towards her shoulder, while the other pushed down his shoulder to expose his jugular to her fangs.  Fearing that this was the end, he closed his eyes not wishing to see the demon, but the faces of his friends.  She hissed in his ear. “No more games Ezra, you have been promised to me and I have waited long enough.” 

As he felt the demon’s fetid breath on his skin, he steeled himself to feel her teeth tearing apart his neck. Instead he felt himself thrown backwards to land sprawled on the floor, tangled in the ruined bed gown.

The combined spirits of both Larabee and Tanner's took in the sight of their friend’s face.   The despair and terror in that face had them shooting the succubus in the back, the rays of pure light piercing the dark creature’s being.  She threw Ezra away from her to turn and face the threat of the two gunslingers. 

Ezra looked up to see his two rescuers battling with the creature while the four ghosts of … his teammates? … stood holding open the portal, urging him to come towards them.  Keeping an eye on the creature he slowly got up and started towards freedom. 

When the succubus saw that her mate had reached freedom she howled her rage, not noticing the growing danger behind her.  Maude Standish raised her hands and called forth the tunnel of judgment.  As it was forming the two gunslingers increased their efforts, pushing the creature back towards the tunnel entrance. 

The succubus had enough and wanted her mate back. She used her power to throw the two rescuers across the room, where they hit the wall before falling stunned to the floor. But it was too late; Maude grabbed her around the waist and fell back into the tunnel.  The ghost of the gambler pulled out of the Agent’s body, rushing towards the tunnel calling out “Mother!”  The ghosts of the tracker and gunslinger tackled him, preventing him from entering the tunnel, which was turning black. Screams, cries, and groans of pain and despair filled the air as black shadows wrapped around the two women that were now trapped.  The gambler gave another anguished cry of “Mother!” as he reached out, wishing to somehow rescue the woman that had sacrificed herself for him and his friends.  

Maude Standish refused to let the creature in her arms escape punishment and hung on, determined to see it to the end. Even if it met eternity in hell, if it meant keeping her son and the other innocents safe, it was worth it.  Maude looked at the pain on her child’s face as he reached out to her, but it was too late to do anything but to tell him, “Ezra I love you and I’m proud of you.  Chris, Vin looked after him.   Love him.” Everyone watched as the tunnel collapsed in on itself knowing that the Maude had sacrificed herself to see that this evil would never kill or threaten anyone again.  As the tunnel disappeared, the room twisted back to the original small underground cell that it was before.  The only difference was that the door now stood open, allowing the shocked gaze of the handful of town folk that worked in the Newspaper Museum to see three men lying unconscious on the floor. 

Unseen by the humans that moved in to help carry out the unconscious men and make the grisly discovery of the mummified corpse of the dead gambler, six ghosts huddled around a seventh as he wept for his mother.  A mother who willingly sacrificed her very soul, to see that her - child and his brothers were free, while consigning herself to hell.  A glowing light started to form, but it didn’t register with the seven ghosts until a soft voice called out, “Ezra...”. 

The seven men looked up into the glowing face of Maude Standish.  They made room for her so that she could kneel by her weeping son.  Parent and child looked at each for the first time in over a hundred years and embraced.  Hugging each other and healing all the small wounds inflected on each other while alive and gaining forgiveness for all wrongs.  The pure love between mother and child made the eyes of the peacekeepers mist over. 

It seemed like an eternity and yet too short a time, when mother and son pulled back from each other.  Maude held the face of her beloved child in her hands and told him, “When you and yours are ready, I will be waiting for you in heaven.  I know that you have some unfinished business, but I will wait for you my sweet, sweet boy.”  She then stood and looked at the other six ghosts.  “All of your loved ones will be waiting for you all.  Do what you have to do and hurry home to us.”  She then faded, disappearing from their view. 

The next morning, the three men left Four Corners with Lorna Wells and Michael Dunne wishing them a safe trip home.  Unknown to all, they didn’t leave alone for there were seven additional passengers.  The seven peacekeepers didn’t like how the town had thanked the three men and they wanted to somehow reward them for their help in bringing them back together. 

On the hood of the Cherokee Jeep the ghosts of the tracker and gambler sat, enjoying the passing scenery and the speed. The ghost of the gunslinger sat in the backseat of the Jeep smiling at the joy of his two friends.  He also wanted to keep an eye on the three silent men in the Jeep’s cab, worried at how they avoided looking at one another or even talking about what had happened in the town.  The gambler and tracker both turned to look at him as they all silently agreed that they would work on whatever the problem was that was between the three men. 

Sheriff JD Dunne sat on the roof of the cab arguing with Buck Wilmington about where he was sitting.  The easy banter between the two men had the other five peacekeepers laughing at their antics. 

The ghost of the healer and preacher relaxed together in the trailer bed as they watched their friends interact with one another, enjoying being together once again as they rode into the dawn of a new day. 

 

The End … or maybe not …