orangetoughguy | log post II

[Get out of the coach.

Her gun goes off, then so does his. Just once because one bullet is all it takes for Orange to react in self-defense. She shot him first, who knows if she might've been planning to do it again. They're lucky the horse hasn't trampled them both in fear. But as a lawman in disguise Orange can't help feeling what he just did, pulling the trigger, was the wrong thing to do. He lays there in shock, mouth forming something between a grimace and a frown. The woman in bloodied blouse and layered skirts slumps over to hang out the other side of the coach.]

[White can't be two places at once. He takes to lifting up his partner from the dirt and tall grass. The woman got what was coming to her, riding out alone is dangerous. They got outlaws. Case in point. Keep a move on, he tells himself. Lifting Orange to sit in the coach is no easy feat. The height forces him to literally shove the wounded man before climbing in.]

Okay, partner, okay. [All that blood already. Why is he even saying that? Larry positions the kid on the seat before stepping to the front. As for the woman, well, he pushes her out to sleep forever on the prairie. Reins in hand they have to get out of here. Good horse takes to the gunfire in stride. At least one thing is going right.]

[Breathe, Newendyke. Just breathe. His mind tells him to help White get a move on but his body isn't reacting quite like he wants it to. Either way he finds himself painfully rolling into the cab's backseat, wishing he could be on the floor. Only then does he start noticing the blood. A whole lot of blood.]

Oh God...oh God.

I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die!

[This is not the mission Freddy signed up for with the local sheriff.]

[He was so quiet there. Larry had hoped he passed out there. No luck.] Just hold on, buddy boy.

[Reins go to one hand since they're heading straight on through the terrain and feels behind him. Poor kid. His first heist and this happens. After all of the time spent reassuring.]

[The way everything hits him is inexplicable. Things went to shit real fast. The lawmen shot Brown down. Then White shot them down. Then Freddy took one to the gut for which a woman, a civilian, paid the price with her life. He kicks back there, writhing from the pain. For fuck's sake, there's some child's clothing back here but no baby. Thank Christ for that, except a baby without a mom is as good as dead out on the prairie too.]

I'm bleeding all over the fucking place. [He whines. Bloodied hands make prints on everything back here, including White's hand which he brushes against but doesn't quite clutch.] I'm gonna fucking die, I'm gonna die.

[Oh God Freddy knows he's crying now even though he's not shedding any tears, or maybe he can't tell the difference between his cold sweat and his tears. He can feel his chest staggering like his breath.] Wh-what's your name?

[A mother and child alone got no business traveling. That's the logic. However, White doesn't have the wound nor the point of view of Orange. White steadies the horse, okay he's got to spare a glance.

All that blood. Holy hell.]

You're not gonna die. Cancel that shit.

[White reaches out to take a hold.]

Lawrence. ...Larry. Pleased to make your acquaintance.

[He's still blindly writhing but somehow his hand connects with Larry's. He clutches it right away, like he's holding on for dear life which he is. Freddy wants to tell him he's pleased to make his acquaintance too, glad to have met him like a human being despite all this.]

Larry.

[That's a gasp then another cry. Fear and pain and anguish.] Larry all this blood scares the shit outta me. I'm gonna die I know it.

[Hell, Newendyke. Maybe you kinda deserve it.]

You're hurt. You're hurt real fucking bad, but you ain't dying.

[Reassuring? Okay, not very reassuring at all. He squeezes that man's hand.]

How do you know? Huh? I didn't know you were a physician. [Could have been an apprentice before finding that it doesn't pay off as quickly. Breath, old man. Keep your head.] Are you a doctor?

[Some of that pain turns hysterical.]

I can't believe she fucking killed me, man, who the fuck saw that?

[Only to turn back to frustration and pain. It serves him right to think a woman on her own wouldn't be armed. Freddy kicks the carriage door, any harder and he might bust it open. He's clinging onto that hand as his groaning turns into a low keening. Why are you doin' this for me?]

No...No I'm not. Shit...

[Painful screaming to come in 5, 4, 3...]

[White throws his gaze all around them. No one is visible, but that don't mean a thing. After all, that's what the woman thought.]

See there? You just admit you don't know what you're talking about. Now, since you're through giving me your amateur opinion, lie back and listen to the news right here: I'm taking you back to the rendezvous. Joe's going to get you a doctor. The doctor's going to fix you up, and you're going to be okay.

[Again he looks back into the seat behind him.]

Hear me? Now say it! You're going to be okay.

Oh God.

[Is that his stomach falling out of his belly or just his guilt? Could be both. Freddy's practically oozing sin in that blood. He doesn't deserve Larry's care and protection.]

I'm okay, Larry. [He sniffs, brow furrowing. It's a brief moment of calm because his heart is sinking to the pit of his bloodletting stomach and Freddy doesn't know what else he can do about it.]

I'm okay.

[White has had his share of poker games where the house is loading up on the chips, it would seem that all is lost only to be reversed with the next card. Those times he kept a straight face. He's working on applying the same logic to this situation. He's got a partner here who desperately needs him to step in.]

Atta' boy.

[He clicks his tongue at the horse to urge it along.] Right here with you. Don't go movin' around so much, save your strength.

I've been fuckin' shot I'm not gonna stay fuckin' still.

[To emphasize that the kid gives the side of the coach another kick. Still hasn't busted a hole through it so good for that. Except after this short tantrum he just curls up again, closer to Larry's side.]

Fuck there's so much blood back here, Larry. I don't think I can have another taco. [Two seemingly unrelated thoughts, but they're related completely.]

[He's going to learn the hard way if he keeps squirming like that.]

Not now, now's not a time for tacos. Another time, how about sometime next week? [There's a tomorrow and a day after. Everything is going to be alright. That's what is between the lines. His hand gives another squeeze. This man is going to live if Larry "Two Guns" has anything to do with it.]

[Are they still holding hands? Good, cause it seems like Freddy's trying to hug that big old paw to himself.]

I'm not gonna make it to next week.

[There's sweat and blood in the mix, real warm blood, so don't necessarily assume those are tears touching your knuckles, Mr. White.]

[No way he's gonna let go right now and let the guy just worm his way this way and that. Besides that, all he has to offer for comfort is a hand.]

How do you know? Huh? Ever-ever been shot? A doc is gonna see you and fix you up.

[Let's try distracting.]

[Well Larry has a point there cause Freddy can't lie and say yes. He's lied enough in more ways than Mr. White can know.]

No. No I ain't ever--[He swallows.] I ain't ever been shot.

[He's seen people who've been shot though. Not pretty at all. The up and coming kid doesn't want to be a statistic, just a number to indicate the danger of living on the frontier.]

Yeah. Well. I have. An' I seen other sorry fellas shot.

[Fatally and not so much. We're not going to talk about the fatal though.]

I'm not no ghost.

[Sure it's not pretty, but people can live. Why can't this kid? Bad enough luck to be shot. White slows their carriage, that looks like another stranger traveling. They're passing at a far enough distance not to know but no need to attract attention.]

No, no you're not a ghost.

[Freddy repeats like doing so, making it some kind of chant, will help him believe it better. Hell he's holding the guy's hand, he sure feels fucking real. God bless him.]

I don't wanna be no ghost, Larry. [He whispers.]

Hey, cowboy. You're not gonna be done in by this. Looks real bad, I know it does. Hold on. From the looks of it we'll be there in an hour or so.

[What did they do before horses? Fastest way to get around.

He rubs the back of the kid's hand with his thumb...to calm him down.]

It feels real bad too.

[He nods twice but there's a brief smile on his face as if making light of this situation were possible. Could be the way that thumb is working its magic. Who knew it would come to this. If Freddy had any idea he might have said something--or done something--to Lawrence Dimick the way he wanted to. Wants to. Too late now.]

I know. [He couldn't believe it turned out like this. An apology starts forming on his lips, but it isn't his fault or the kids. The plan was perfect, perfect. Not some hair-brained train robbery.] You're real fucking tough.

[As if he didn't have an idea when he saw him. Something about how he approached in that leather he was wearing. Well, he got his wish in spending more time with him.]

[Oh God why'd he have to go and say that? The kid grimaces then coughs.]

No I'm not, Larry.

[He shakes his head, ready to start spinning again. Being tough is about more than just taking a bullet like a trooper. Freddy's not tough. Tough guys don't shot innocent women and lie through their teeth to men who give him their names.]

You are.

[He grips that hand tighter shakes it a little as though it'll affirm something. Now is not the time for modesty. That's got to be the pain starting. Or was that his first kill? Oh fuck. Green through and through, this shouldn't be happening.]

Tough guys go down but they're not out. You, my friend are not out.

I'm gettin' there, I'm so fucking gettin' there.

[He groans like he's out of breath, sick from all that bloodloss and perhaps close to passing out. Freddy doesn't want to pass out. What if he doesn't wake up? The shaking to his hand helps in that respect, it reminds the kid he's still alive.

log post II

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