This is my first Young Guns fiction and I hope everyone that reads it finds something enjoyable about it.

This is loosely based on the second movie but instead of Doc and Chavez leaving Billy like in the end of the first movie they stay with him here forming a close band with Pat, Dave and Tom.

I'm unsure how closely I'll be following the plot of the second movie but we'll see.

I also changed ages, travelling times and dates to suit the needs of the story.

So far I've always finished all my fictions, I hate leaving them unfinished and hope to carry on this trend.

Wild is the Wind

Billy looked up from his glass of whiskey. His intense blue eyes watched the bar in quiet contemplation. He pursed his lips together in the familiar serious pout that signified that all was not well with William Bonney.

He brushed his fingers through his straw coloured mid-length hair and then pushed his glass from one palm to the other.

"Chivato" came the voice of Chavez. Billy's gaze was diverted as his friend pulled up a chair next to him and rested his hand lazily on Billy's shoulder.

Billy turned his attention fully to the tall, lean Mexican Indian man and then back to the bar. Chavez's dark eyes scanned the bar along with Billy and he distractedly pushed his long black hair to one side as his other hand now rested a little nervously on the hilt of his large throwing knife.

"Trouble?" Chavez finally asked his eyes narrowing as he spoke.

Billy didn't reply right away but considered his friend's question for some time. He felt restless and a little jumpy and when Billy felt jumpy trouble was normally not far away.

"Maybe" he said at long last "Where's Dave?"

Chavez's eyes narrowed again but this time in clear distaste. Billy knew Chavez despised the newest member of the gang. Dave Rudabaugh was a cocky, unshaven man in his late twenties.

He'd been an outlaw for many years before Billy met him and Billy had found he and Dave shared the same mind in some respects. The other members of his gang were loyal and steadfast but each feared the hangman's rope, each feared that deadly bullet with their name on it… Billy and Dave didn't fear any of this… Billy had never feared death or killing… it was just part of life and if death caught up with him, Billy felt sure he'd have a fun time finding a way out of it before it grasped him in its cold fingers fully.

Chavez shook his head "Last I saw he was going upstairs with two whores"

Billy nodded as if this was satisfactory and looked over to the crowded card table where two more of his companions sat playing a fierce card game.

Doc, a well educated man of twenty six held his cards close to his chest but Billy knew his face would betray his hand at any moment. Doc was a terrible bluffer, and right on cue just as Billy had predicted Docs blue eyes widened and a brief look of pleasure rippled across his features giving away his good luck to all at the table. As the other men folded Doc scratched his sandy shaggy head in frustration.

Doc had been riding with Billy since the earliest days just like Chavez, and Billy considered both men his brothers. Billy often teased Doc for his tenderfoot ways and love of writing poetry but Billy would not have changed him.

A loud boom of a laugh came from the other side of the table and Billy's eyes moved to Pat.

Patty Garrett was a man of similar age to Doc and Billy looked up to him as an older brother. They shared a similar personality although Pat was not quite as wild and would back out of any big cattle heists for fear of ruining his name, Pat still had plans of marrying and running a respectable business one day and although he enjoyed riding with Billy there was only so far he would go.

Pat caught Billy's eye and grinned broadly, Billy felt his body relax a little, all his boys didn't feel the threat he did, perhaps he was being over cautious after the last cattle rustle.

Billy's eyes searched the bar area once more for his last companion and he found him easily. Tom sat at the bar and was nursing a glass of what looked like whiskey. Tom was the youngest of the gang, having just turned fifthteen that spring.

Billy was only just into manhood himself being only twenty years old but his upbringing had left very little time for being a child. With Tom he felt he could release the childish longings he had. He'd scuffle, play fight, race and have playful shooting contests with Tom; something that the other men felt they had long outgrown, indeed Doc taunted Billy often that he would never fully leave that immature fun behind.

Billy's childhood had been short lived and by the age of twelve he had already been roaming the streets with no home and an empty belly most nights. But anything was better than his stepfather's constant violent outbursts, Billy felt sure if he'd stayed he would have ended up in a pine box before he reached adulthood.

Billy had become a small time thief, arrogant and sure of himself that no man would ever beat on him or talk him down again.

He'd finally found himself in Lincoln at the age of seventeen where he'd had a run in with a bloated and bad tempered blacksmith called Frank Cahill who took it upon himself to bully Billy.

The feud between them had escalated until Frank had confronted him in the local Saloon and put his hands on Billy, throwing him to the ground. Billy had snapped and drew his gun shooting the man at point-blank range, making quite a mess of the man's gut.

From that point on Billy was on the run and luckily for him John Tunstall, an Englishman that owned a local general store, had seen Billy as more than a killer and taken him under his wing giving him a warm bed and steady work as a regulator on his stead.

There Billy had met his closet allies in Doc, Chavez, Richard, Charlie and Dirty Steve. The six young men had formed a bond and friendship working together and for a time Billy felt content and perhaps things would have stayed that way, perhaps Billy's thirst to prove himself and the raging fire that burned within him would have slowly faded, maybe he would have become a respectable gentleman settled down with a local girl, had children of his own and led a normal and uneventful life.

But life never quite turns out how it should. John Tunstall had been in the way of a powerful and corrupt Irishman named Lawrence Murphy. Murphy had owned a general store in Lincoln and wanted John out of his way. To get what he wanted Murphy sent some of his henchmen out to do his dirty work and they had shot John dead right in front of Billy's eyes.

Billy and the other boys had looked upon John as a sort of father figure and their thirst for revenge and justice had led the six men to be officially deputized and given the authority to issue warrants and bring in the men responsible for John's death.

Billy had never liked the law, it had never done any favors for him in his short life and so he had decided to go against Richard's ways and leadership and take the law into his own hands becoming judge, jury and executioner for all the men that they had a warrant for and any others he thought deserved to see the end of his barrel.

The other boys had been reluctant to follow him at first, choosing Richard's law abiding way and scolding Billy for his recklessness but after Richard had been killed by one of Murphy's men the rest of the men had quickly turned to Billy for leadership.

After all the killings and the murder of a Sheriff that had been involved with John's death the five men had had their badges and powers revoked and labeled outlaws. Billy had been quite pleased with himself and what the newspapers were writing about him and his band of men but then Murphy had threatened John's personal friend and business partner Alex McSween.

The regulators had rushed to his aid finding themselves caught in a trap and resulting in an all out shoot out between themselves, Murphy's men and in time a small band of the U.S army.

During the brutal battle Dirty Steve had been cut down by gunfire and Alex had been shot while unarmed… Billy knew only too well that fairness had no place in this life.

The only comfort the last four regulators had was that Murphy had died by Billy's bullet ending the Lincoln county war.

Charlie had rode back to Old Mexico to be with his wife, shaken by the odeal but Billy, Doc and Chavez had rode away together and lain low for many months, the bounty on their heads still stood and Billy's even began to rise until 500 was the asking price for him dead or alive… and that money was mighty tempting to hard up farmers, drunkards and anyone else that thought that day could be their lucky day.

So Billy decided to stay on the track he was on, lying low enough to evade capture but still staying on the wrong side of the law. He began rustling cattle; he'd kill when he needed to but always slipped just out of reach of capture no matter how many sheriffs and bounty hunters were sent after him… Billy was too unpredictable.

Billy drained the rest of the liquid in his glass and sat back in his chair, enjoying the stillness of the evening and the loud chatter of the full bar, he closed his eyes and thought of what there next move would be. He heard the heavy footfalls coming towards him long before the man in question had even spotted Billy or any of the other gang.

Billy's eyes opened in a flash and darted to the man who stood by the swinging doorway. He was dressed in a long brown leather duster coat and Billy instantly knew him as a bounty hunter and where there was one there was many.

The man raised his gun and fired it in Billy's direction; Billy was already up from his seat, flinging his body sideways as the bullet flew past his right cheek. He saw in the corner of his eye that Chavez was already on the ground, his gun drawn.

Within the split second that the bullet had passed him Billy's hand had already took full possession of his gun as if second nature and the first bullet was freed from its cylinder before the man had time to squeeze the trigger a second time, the bullet found its resting place deep within the man's chest and he fell backwards onto the dusty wooden floor with a muffled thump.

At the sound of the gunfire more men burst into the bar and Billy saw with mounting dread that his six were far out numbered by the twenty that now stood fully armed before him.

"We've come to claim your bounty kid" one of the men shouted, aiming his gun at Billy's head. Billy threw himself down onto the floor as the shots rang out and bullets flew through the place he had moments ago been standing.

Billy laughed heartily at the man's words. "My bounty" he repeated and laughed again.

But only one thing could be done in this situation.

"Skin out!" Billy shouted to his companions, glancing to where they had all been. They were now sheltered behind tables shooting into the twenty men that now had nothing but their blood on their minds.

Billy saw Chavez grabbing hold of Tom and hurl him out the back way. He felt sure now that all would be well, Tom was the least skilled of all of them and with him safely out of the situation the escape would be all the easier. Doc and Pat would be able to get out if he gave them cover and Billy didn't feel any worry for Dave, he was slippery as an eel and always found a way out of situation.

"Skin out!" he repeated to Doc and Pat. They both gave him a nod before making a run for the back door as Billy gave them cover fire. Once he was sure they had a clear path he began to follow, firing with expert skill into the men taking more than a few out as he ran.

Billy gave out a whoop as the blood scorched through his veins and the adrenaline kicked in bringing that familiar feeling of being invincible. This was what he lived for, this feeling, this thrill… he felt alive in these moments.

He gave once last shot hitting one of the men square between the eyes before turning towards the doorway and bursting out into the sweltering May air. He ran to where he knew his horse awaited him, his broken down leather boots hit the soft earth with a quick and even pace, his belt and spurs clinking as his legs pumped hard propelling him forward.

He swung himself easily and quickly into the saddle and dug his heels into the horse's side, the beast gave a low noise of surprise before setting off at a gallop. The men had already followed him out of the saloon and continued to fire, their guns blazing in Billy's direction.

Billy felt the unpleasant and all too familiar unwelcome gut wrenching pain as a bullet found the soft flesh of his side. He leaned forward in the saddle as the pain flew through him but he quickly righted himself and spurred the horse onwards. He could hear the heavy hoof beats of many horses behind him and knew the men planned to give chase.

Billy gave a light swear under his breath, this evening was not turning out like he planned, no warm bed and no good night's sleep, tonight he would not return to his comrades in fear that he would be followed and their home revealed. Billy changed his course slightly and began to head out into the open plain. He would show them what a real ride was.

--

Billy easily lost the men within a few hours as night began to set in, the purple whisp of clouds becoming darker and the cold night air settling over the open expanse of land.

Billy had expected them to give up sooner but the thought of 500 must have kept their spirits high when their bodies were tired.

Billy too felt tired, in fact his body was slowly giving up to the pain and cold. He became irritatingly aware that he would not make it to any of his safe houses before his strength deserted him and he refused to let 'Billy the Kid' die like some stray cattle in the middle of the desert, having his bones picked clean by the vultures.

The cold night air ruffled his hair and he pouted in an almost childish way, he missed his hat and cursed the fact he'd have to find a new one, he'd grown quite attached to the damn thing.

He could just see his poor hat now being picked up by some lucky hick and sold for a pretty dollar because it was 'Billy the Kids' hat.

He gave a deep sigh as he shifted his weight in the saddle and tightened his fingers on the wound at his side. The warm wet blood still continued to ooze between his fingers soaking into his shirt. He was sure that the bullet had just grazed him badly; this at least was good news.

Billy narrowed his eyes in concentration, he was sure that his eyes were betraying him, showing him what he wanted to see but it was indeed there, a faint light somewhere in the distance. He gave his horse a sharp kick and it obeyed him trotting towards the source of the light.

The welcoming glow came from a small, run down cabin. It looked like it had once been part of a farm but from the looks of the sloping roof, hadn't been used for quite some time.

Billy got clumsily down from his horse, his head felt light and knew he had to rest soon or drop where he stood.

His hand rested upon one of his guns, feeling the cool reassurance he relied on and slowly, cautiously he began to lead his horse up to the porch. Once there he tethered it to the wooden railing and ascended the splintered wooden steps. He paused at the doorway, the door had long since come off its hinges. He studied the room beyond and saw the candle light came from the room at the far right of the cabin.

Billy could smell the sweet odor of decaying wood and assumed the person inside was not the owner, but just like himself, needed somewhere to stay.

He shuffled his legs forward, they felt like lead weights and he knew he didn't have long before his body could go no further and he had to know who was within the house, if they looked like a threat he'd have to deal with them to ensure his own safety. With effort he pulled his gun from his holster and aimed it towards the room.

A shuffling sound from within made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and the feeling traveled over his scalp in a rippling wave as his finger tightened on the trigger.

The shuffling grew louder as the occupant of the house came into the room holding a candle. The light invaded the room in a blinding fashion and for a moment Billy's eyes were dazzled and his gun rose instinctively towards the source.

A high pitched gasp came from the direction he aimed and Billy's eyes fell upon the small frame of a young woman.

Billy's eyes widened in surprise as the girl stood staring at him in open-mouthed shock.

Her long hair fell in soft dark brown waves past her shoulders a few of the stray curls lay in wisps about her face which was pale and a little pinched from lack of food. Her eyes were softly hooded concealing beautiful clear green irises that now stared, transfixed, at him. Her eyebrows were dark and slim with a natural arch to them and her lips were full and shapely.

Finally the girl seemed to regain her senses.

"What are you doing here?" the fear rang out like a bell within her voice "What do you want?"

Billy saw that she held a small knife and was pointing it accusingly at him. He instantly knew she had never used the weapon before, on a man at least, by the way her hand tremored.

Billy felt relief flood through him and with it his body finally gave in to the struggle and he fell into blackness before his body hit the floor.