Continues on from  The Hunter Becomes The Hunted

The following is a work of fan fiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters and settings. This story is strictly for entertainment. 

My thanks as always to my hard working beta reader Sarah, without you there would be no story.

Warning for adult situations, (E/V), (E/OMC, rape)  

M7  OW

Darkness and Light:

The Gambler and the Renegade  

Ezra Standish was in serious trouble.  Naked and tied by the wrists, he was surrounded by four bounty hunters.  The one in the lead was holding the rope, the one to his left was jostling him so that the horse’s shoulder would knock into him. His nude body was already filthy with dirt, there were seeping cuts all over him and blood stained the left side of his face. A hard foot in the centre of his shoulders sent Ezra staggering forward and he went down hard onto his knees. Blood tricked down his chin as he tried to bite back the pain.  He made to get back to his feet, only to fall over once more.  He managed to roll onto his back and there was pain as the rocks cut into his already abused flesh. The leader pulled his horse to a halt.  “Frank, get him on his feet.”

“Marty-” the man started to complain. But when Marty tapped the butt of his gun, he just did as he was told.  Grabbing hold of Standish, he dragged him to his feet and gave him a push so that he collided with the other rider. Young JD Dunne caught hold of the bound hands and supported him, his young face showing his disgust at what he was seeing.

This wasn’t what JD had thought it was going to be. Newly arrived in the West, the chance to join a real posse was something he couldn’t turn down. Even when the lawmen turned back, JD had kept going.  After hearing what these four men had called the others, JD wasn’t going to quit.  Now he was regretting it.

The first night after they had caught Standish they had just left him tied up.  JD had brought him a small plate of stew, but hadn’t got too close.  He had been told that Standish was a tricky bastard. But instead of taking him back to Clarkesville, they had decided to return him to Gus Parker’s Ranch.  The bounty was a private one, and they might be able to barter it up higher in person. By the third day, they had started to mistreat Standish and there was nothing that JD had been able to do to stop them.

Then, three nights ago, they had stripped the gambler and it had gotten really nasty.  JD had fled from the camp site until early the next morning. When he had returned, Standish had been shivering under a threadbare blanket; a boot in the stomach had woken the prisoner. It was then that JD had seen the dried blood coating the inside of his thighs and the heavy bruising on the trim body. But Standish had still made it to his feet.  They had since walked him for miles in the sun and the almost casual abuse was taking their toll on the wanted man.

Each night since, they had become more violent in their games.  His throat already bore a rope burn where they had started to hang him last night, only to cut him down and fuck him raw, before leaving him tied up and freezing  cold until they decided to start again.

JD wanted to run; he knew that if he did they wouldn’t care, he was one less person to claim share of the $350 reward. But if he did, he would have to leave Standish.  What did that matter, he told himself bitterly.  He wasn’t doing the man any good as it was. He could take Standish with him, but it would mean going against the other men and he wasn’t sure that he could take them. Looking at Standish he could see the other man was shivering and the flush of fever was starting to colour his face.

The other men were still in the process of making camp for the evening.  It was already dark and the only light came from the fire.  No one was paying him any attention so, mind made up, JD walked across and thrust a canteen into the bound hands.  For a heartbeat his eyes met Standish’s and then the wanted man took a deep drink from the canteen, coughed and then took another, before Marty came up, pushing JD out of the way and knocking the canteen from Ezra’s hands.

“You don’t give him anything,” he smirked.  “He has to earn it, don’t you, beautiful?”  He caught hold of Standish’s face, the fingers digging deep into his flesh.  Then he gave him a hard push so that he sprawled onto his back, to the laughter of the other bounty hunters.  Marty said; “See boys, he can’t wait for it.”  Dismissed, JD backed away as the bounty hunters began to circle round their prisoner, before they started to fall on the struggling bound man like vultures on a carcass.

JD turned and headed away from the camp, trying to blot out the yelling and the catcalls. It was then he saw the man in front of him.  The way he dressed, the man was a tracker or buffalo hunter.  JD went for his gun and then froze as the man’s hand snapped up and he found himself looking into the barrel of a Mare’s leg.  The Texan accent was soft and rasping.  “How many of them?”

“F four,” JD stuttered.

The man swung the butt of the Mare’s leg round fast and JD pitched down, flat on his face.  “You’re lucky boy, you never touched him.”

0-0-0-0-0-0

Marty was pounding into the abused body, the others pinning the struggling man’s arms and legs down, when suddenly they went quiet.  Looking up, Marty saw the man standing in front of him; the old boots, the rough pants and shirt, the faded bandana and the old filthy buckskin jacket. The face was hidden by the slouched confederate cavalry hat.

“Get off him.” The voice was deadly.

Marty looked past him.  “This is our bounty Tanner.  Now get the fuck out of here, before we decide to cash in on yours.”

The only answer he got was the chambering of the bullet in the Mare’s leg. “Ain’t going to be asking you again.”  

Marty Richards reached a hand down and groped the prisoner to make his point as he leered up at the newcomer. “You want a piece of his ass, put your money down and take your turn, but no way are we letting him go until we get our bounty.”

The newcomer shook his head then fired.  The bullet took Marty in the chest and then he dropped the other three; the shock of seeing their leader cut down froze them just for that crucial second.

The prisoner rolled onto his side and then pushed himself up on his knees, bound hands held in front of him, breathing heavily, as his gaze took in his rescuer.  Vin Tanner pulled his knife and went over to the kneeling man.  “Take it easy Ez, I’m just going to cut you free.” 

Crouching down, Vin cut through the rope.  Just then, Marty groaned and started to try and push himself up from where he lay on his back.

Vin suddenly lunged at the wounded man and brought the knife down with his full weight  behind it, embedding it in the rapist’s groin.  Marty’s body arched up as the agony exploded  through his body.  Snarling curses in English, Comanche and Spanish, Tanner pulled the knife out and then slashed it across Marty’s throat, cutting through to his spinal cord. Then, standing up, he spat down into the unseeing eyes of Standish’s dead abuser.

Only then did he turn slowly to look at the man he had just rescued.  “You going to say something?”

“No, Mr Tanner, he got what he deserved,” Ezra Standish said.  He reached out his hand and was dragged to his feet.  “I think that I am going to find my clothes.  Gentlemen should never be seen without at least a modicum of clothing.”

Standish dragged the boots off one of the men, dug out his pants and now grubby white shirt from a saddlebag and dressed quickly, before stripping his red coat from one of the dead men, followed by his hat. He rooted around another saddlebag and retrieved his derringer, shoulder holster and gun belt and strapped them on, before turning back to Vin Tanner.

In three steps he had his arm around Vin’s neck, pulling his head down so that he could kiss him long and hard.  A strong arm circled his waist and he was pulled tight against the long, lean body of his lover.

“What took you?” Ezra finally managed to mutter as he broke the kiss.

But Vin didn’t answer him; he just pulled him close and ravished his lover’s mouth, at the same time as his knee pushed between Ezra’s legs, rubbing up against him, making him gasp into that punishing kiss. It sparked pain in his abused body, but at the same time it was counterbalanced by a need.  He had been raped and abused, day after day since his capture. What he needed now was to feel his lover and know that he wasn’t disgusted by what had happened, to know that he was loved.

Ezra buried his face into the shoulder of his Texan lover, nuzzling through the long hair to nip at his throat. The dead bodies forgotten, Vin swept him up and carried him to the pile of blankets and laid him down with great care. The Texan, Ezra knew, had very few possessions in his life and the fact that he was considered one of them never ceased to amaze him.

“The kid, did you...”

“He’s alive, but he won’t be going anywhere.”

Vin eased down over him, pushing the black hat off even as Ezra mimicked his action and then the Texan swooped in for another long kiss, as he stroked down the southerner’s body with one hand and he felt his lover’s hips rise to his touch. Then suddenly Ezra gave a big yawn, his jaw clicking, and drifted off to sleep.

The bounty hunter shook his head, a smile ghosting across his face and, placing a light, almost chaste kiss on his lips, he pulled the blankets over him and once he was sure that he wasn’t going to wake up, began to drag the bodies away from the campsite.

Going to check on JD, he knelt down to the bound younger man and tapped his face a couple of times, none too gently, until the brown eyes opened.  JD tried to back pedal away from the Bowie knife that was being held right against his face, but a hand caught him by the scruff of the neck and yanked him forward again.

“I am going to cut you free kid, but you come near Ez again, and I’ll gut you.”

Looking into the cold blue eyes in the moon light, JD believed him.

When he was cut free, he grabbed his horse and rode, never looking back.

The end

Story continues in  The Bad Element