CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITIES - second half
The Magnificent Seven

Need to find a mount, Ezra thought as he sprinted to the livery. Some brain-dead horse that couldn't care less that I don't smell right. Already, he was grimacing at the possibilities. Lord, maybe Floss was stupid enough to take him.

He came to an abrupt halt as he caught sight of the stagecoach awaiting its passengers. The horses had been swapped out and the new team was impatiently awaiting its start. The driver leaned against one wheel while his partner was having a beer in the saloon – or maybe visiting one of the rooms above the business. A handful of passengers meandered about, obviously waiting until the last minute to board.

Ezra approached the team, finding them unflappable as he neared them. He didn't get too close... just in case. Now, Ezra thought. That'd work.

"Bernie," Ezra called, flipping the driver a coin. "Why don't you visit the saloon and enjoy what it has to offer."

The driver caught the coin and regarded it. He checked his watch and then commented, "Still got ten minutes. Figure I'll make use of it," And he glanced surreptitiously to the coach office before dashing across the street to the first available saloon.

Without wasting a moment, Ezra climbed to the coach seat and released the brake. This had better work, he thought, not wanting to revisit what had happened in the livery. He shouted to the team, slapping the reins. The horses needed no further coaxing. Men and women dashed out of the way as the stage jostled forward.

Bernie, only halfway across the street, froze in his tracks, not wanting to turn around as he heard Ma Kelly burst through the office door, shouting obscenities at the early-departing stage. He ducked his head into his shoulders and warily turned in time to see the stage rush from the town.

"Nuts," he muttered, shoving the coin deep within his pocket.

PART 6:

The six lawmen road toward the trail that connected Sweet Wallow to Marcelonia, ready to cut off Horton and his men before they reached their destination.

Damn fool, Larabee thought as he set the pace. Why the hell would Horton tell us what he was doing and when he was doing it, after he'd sent his men to kill us? Horton should know we'd take out his men. That we'll cut him off. He should know we'll stop him.. what's he got up his sleeve?

It wasn't right. They were missing something.

They tore onward, over the open territory, saying little as they made their way to Grass Flats where Horton and his fellow horsemen should be – where they should meet up with him and end this madness.

Chris knew they would take care of it – or die trying.

Beside him, Vin slowed his mount as he gazed off into the distance, looking farther east, toward Marcelonia. Chris followed his gaze, seeing the plume of smoke that was following the new railway. He turned to face Tanner, who changed his gaze to meet Larabee's.

They brought their horses to a stop and the others came to a halt with them.

"What's goin' on?" JD asked impatiently. "Why're we stoppin'?"

Chris and Vin watched the smoke, heading away from them, onward to Marcelonia. "Do you think?" Chris asked the tracker.

Vin exhaled slowly. "What better way to get rid of a train-town… than by using a train."

Buck and Nathan moaned at this notion, and Josiah shook his head slowly. JD glanced between them, opening his mouth to say something, but the decision had already been made.

As one, the six horsemen turned their horses, and started after the train.

PART 7:

The nearly-empty stage jounced and bucked as Ezra drove the team across the land. He gritted his teeth as he was jostled on the seat, finding some comfort in the fact that his hind-end wasn't getting beaten against the hard seat. The possibilities of this shielding device were endless.

Driving a team of six horses wasn't the same as riding his own horse, but Ezra had a fair feeling that he'd make it to his destination in time – and when he caught sight of the plume in the distance, he knew it was only a matter of cutting the train off before it came too close to the town of Marcelonia.

The horses were lathered and panting by the time they reached the tracks. Ezra, forced them to a trot, then jumped from the seat before the coach came to a stop. The horses, not understanding the situation, kept moving forward, crossing the tracks with a racket and shuffling forward.

Ezra paid them no mind, focusing on the approaching locomotive. He turned, looking in the opposite direction, to Marcelonia. He could see the wood barrier that someone had set up as warning – the lanterns meant to drive home the danger. It would do nothing to impede the racing locomotive.

The engine was visible in the distance, coming toward him at a steady rate -- fast. He stood to one side of the tracks as he pulled his Remington from its holster and laughed.

I didn't think this through, he thought as he aimed the pistol at the behemoth, and then dropped his arm, aware that he would do nothing with the small weapon, not at this distance. He was like a mouse facing down a raging lion.

He paced, wondering if he could get into position to take out the engineer. It seemed unlikely. The locomotive was under full steam, moving like a rocket. How could he hit one man in that iron box? And there was the howitzer to consider. Certainly they'd have it ready for anyone daring to attack – whether they'd be able to hit anything while they were in movement was another thing. Still, he didn't want to face down such a thing -- not even with the shield.

The train moved constantly closer as Ezra considered his alternatives, as he paced along the tracks. Maybe he could block the rails. He glanced about, wondering if anything would work. The stage was the only thing in sight. He could unhitch the horses from it – but what good would the empty stage do? The coach would be like kindling if struck. It'd be no better than the warning barrier that the people of Marcelonia had struck up.

He turned to the town again. Seeing the pretty little street and new businesses -- the restaurant with the excellent desserts. People moved on that street, unaware of what approached. No, that barrier was meant only to warn the incoming engineers to slow down – to stop. It would do nothing to impede the full-steam locomotive as it came in. Horton and his men were probably planning to jump from the engine in time to watch it blow the town to smithereens. The explosives would be primed and ready. The moment the engine left the rails, the second it experienced any collision, it would probably blow sky-high.

Not going to happen, Ezra pledged.

He twisted about, looking toward the engine. It was gaining – would be here within a minute. He could read the numbers across the front of it. Could make out the faces of men leaning from the cab. Someone drew a gun and fired at him -- missed him by a mile. He lifted his arm, aiming the Remington and returned fire. They tucked themselves back into the space and Ezra grinned at this small accomplishment.

Then he saw the Howitzer brought around on the top of the cab. "Aw crap," he muttered and ducked as the big gun went off. It boomed, the shell impacted a dozen feet from him, shaking the ground.

Ezra shouted wordlessly, as huge clods of dirt rained down, never touching him. He dove away from the spot, heading toward the only place where he knew would be safe – the train tracks. No one in his right mind would blow up the tracks they were about to travel across.

Ezra smiled smugly as he watched them realign the big gun. He aimed his Remington again, looking for anyone he could take out as the train chugged ever closer. For the life of him, Ezra didn't know what he was going to do when he had to move out of the way.

I could get onto the locomotive, he decided. Sure, swing myself up. They won't be able to hurt me, right? I would take them out one at a time and then figure out how to stop the train. That would be a piece of cake, right?

Right. It'll be easy. I don't have the faintest idea how to find the brakes. Might be able to find the bell... Someone else took aim at him and fired. He swore, wishing he could get to a better position, but for the moment, with the howitzer in play, he was safest right on the tracks. I'll just stay here until the last moment, he decided. The shield will protect me from their bullets, from the shells perhaps. Hell, it might even stop the train.

With that realization, he felt a chill. My God, what if I could stop the train? It was getting closer by the second. He could make out faces now – could see Horton at one window – could see a man named Van De Veer at another. He knew Van De Veer – an explosives expert. The man knew what he was doing. He probably had the train rigged perfectly. Marcelonia would be blown to smithereens.

If I were able to get aboard the train, to neutralize everyone on it, would I be able to stop the train before it met the gap in the tracks at Marcelonia? What about the explosives? What if I can't figure out how to stop it in time... It's probably too late already. They're going too damn fast.

Ezra sighed, knowing that he had no sure answers. If he were to get on that train, if he were to get rid of every man off it… he still wouldn't be able to stop the train before it went through that barrier and went off the tracks. He glanced at his feet, at the tracks. There was a hole beneath the rail where some animal had dug out the dirt. He worked his toe into the gap. He had to stop the train. Had to stop it cold. Keep it from even getting close to Marcelonia and its people.

The ground around him vibrated at the approach of the mighty locomotive.

He worked at the dirt, wedging one foot under the railing as the train screamed closer. He could feel the rail vibrating over the shield that covered his foot. It tingled.

It was a stupid idea DAMN stupid – but it was the only real one he had. It was the only way he could see to stop the train. I'm too damn light, he thought. It'll toss me like a husk. And he worked his other foot under the rail. If nothing else, he'd take out the rail...

Aboard the locomotive, the men were firing again, their aim improving. Ezra could hear the bullets impacting the shield and ricocheting off. "Invulnerable," he said softly. "I'm invulnerable." Sure he was the size of a mouse when compared to the mammoth machine, but size doesn't matter -- right?

He could see the expressions of the men now, their puzzled glances. The sound of the big engine filled the air, thundering, shaking him. Someone started ringing a bell.

"Invulnerable," Ezra muttered, his eyes fixed on the numbers above the boiler. He let out a little groan, seeing bundles of TNT strapped all around the cattle-catcher -- any impact -- any impact at all --

He turned to the side, presenting one shoulder to the train. He shuffled his other foot, working himself further under the rail. The iron sang above his feet.

The train thundered deafeningly. He could feel the heat as the locomotive bore down on him. It filled his vision. He ducked his head into his shoulder and closed his eyes as it came at him. "Invulnerable…." The ground shook. The bell rang. "Invulnerable… Invulner…"

PART 8:

"We'll get 'em," Tanner declared as they bore down on the train. Goddamn! A locomotive! He had no idea how to stop one. They were almost to Marcelonia now. It was a damn big engine, too -- and going as fast as hell. And, if that weren't enough, a howitzer had been mounted to the top of the engine. It fired.

"What the hell are they shooting at?" Buck called as the shell impacted somewhere in front of the rushing engine.

"Dunno," Vin responded.

The six kept after it, wondering at why the train wasn't slowing. Certainly, if Horton and his men meant to stop in Marcelonia, they'd have to slow it. How could they take out the town if they didn't slow down?

Tanner changed his path, bringing Peso out farther to one side to see beyond the train. He caught a glance at the barrier across the rails. "Tracks are out in the town!" he shouted to the others.

"Shit," Buck muttered. "They're gonna derail the train in the middle of Marcelonia? Goin' full steam?"

Gunfire came from the locomotive. Who were they firing at? Someone from the town maybe? Maybe someone from the stage. Why was a stagecoach here? The team was trotting about, meandering with the coach. What the hell?

The bell started ringing – a clangor – a warning.

"Who's out there?" JD called across to Vin, who moved further out, trying to see.

The tracker sucked in his breath as he saw a loan figure in the tracks dressed in a green jacket. "No…" he muttered. "No…"

The bell kept ringing. It rang and rang. The man on the tracks didn't move. Goddamn! The train was going to hit him! The man hunched as if bracing for impact… as if a man could stop a train.

"NO!" Vin shouted and then, it was as if a hand had come down, a hammer. The train, traveling at full speed toward Marcelonia – ran full blast into the man – and exploded in a ball of fire, fiercer than seen at any Independence Day celebration.

"Good God!" Josiah shouted, his voice unheard in the mighty roar.

Their horses balked and screamed at the blast of dynamite and the screeching rending of metal. The sky filled with steam and smoke. Shrapnel screamed upward. Flaming coal was thrown aloft and then plummeted, mixed with fragments of whistling, shattering iron Josiah watched in horror, feeling as if he'd stared into Dante's Inferno – as if he'd seen the depths of hell as the huge, rushing locomotive came to a cataclysmic stop and went to pieces before their eyes.

"Christ!" Buck exclaimed, trying to calm Clyde as the train rained down. Something thudded to the ground beside them – a steaming shovel. The abandoned stagecoach careened past– the horses terrified out of their minds. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, the last chunks of the train found their way to the earth. After a moment of silence, what remained of the locomotive's bulk, creaked and moaned as it fell to one side along the twisted tracks.

The six men could say nothing more, striving to calm their horses, as they searched the scene for anything that might explain what had just happened.

"How could…?" JD started. "How could… how could a train just DO that?" He glanced about at the others, needing an answer. "How could it just blow up?"

"It's impossible," Nathan uttered. "It can't happen. A train just doesn't…"

"Explosives," Buck muttered. "Must have been loaded with them. Must have gone off." He looked worriedly at the others. "Horton. But why? How? How could it … stop like that?"

Vin, finally calming Peso, gave them a one-word answer. "Ezra," he stated and then dug his heels into the horse and sped off toward the destruction.

"No," Josiah uttered softly. "No. He wouldn't have. He couldn't have." And he started a quiet Hail Mary, hoping that – against all odds – Ezra might make it out of this all right.

And the rest took off after Vin, to find what was left of their brother.

PART 9:

"Ezra!" Buck shouted as he searched through the wreckage. "Ezra!"

"Ezra!" Josiah echoed, moving one shattered hunk of metal, and then another. The still-hot material burned his hands, but he was beyond feeling it. "Ezra, son… answer me!" He stared at the rails that had been yanked from the ground. They looked like licorice ropes. Dear God in Heaven, how could he have survived this?

They picked through the scattered bits – the debris that was once the most powerful vehicle on the plains. "He's still in Four Corners," JD insisted as he worked alongside Nathan. "Nathan, he couldn't ride his horse. He couldn't have gotten here."

"The stage," Nathan reminded. "It's the one that came into town when we were leavin'." Regretfully, he looked about. "Damn fool," he muttered.

"I bet he put something on the tracks!" JD insisted. "It wasn't him! I know he wouldn't have let that train run into him!"

Nathan sighed and looked up as the people of Marcelonia reached them – coming racing out of town by horseback and wagon – looking at them beseechingly for an explanation – women and children, families, businessmen – townspeople.

JD went on, touching his chest to demonstrate, "He wouldn't 'ave trusted that thing to protect him from a train!" And together they overturned another scrap – twisted and rendered by the collision and explosion. "He wouldn't have risked it!"

Nathan nodded, saying nothing as they uncovered a boot. When JD reached for it, Jackson stopped him. "Not Ezra's," he said, keeping the kid from coming in contact with it. He'd seen enough of the boot to know that the owner's foot was still lodged within it. "Let it be."

"It would have protected him though!" JD insisted. "That glowing thing! It saved him from the bullet. Vin couldn't hit him. Chaucer couldn't bite him either. It would've protected him!" JD had stopped working. He stood his ground, staring defiantly at Nathan.

The healer only nodded – hoping and wishing they could find Ezra safe in the mess. He looked toward the others because he didn't want to answer JD. Buck was organizing the folks from Marcelonia, explaining what had happened. Josiah flailed in the wreckage, coming up with a familiar black hat that he clasped in his hand as if he was afraid to loosen his grip. Chris was moving about like a man possessed, desperate to find the gambler in the destruction. It was an awful game of hide and seek. Vin stood apart, looking away from the wreckage – to some spot partway to Marcelonia.

Nathan watched as Vin came to attention. The tracker stared, then stepped away, starting off at a jog. Please, Nathan begged. Please… and followed the tracker.

PART 10:

Vin had forsaken the search of the debris. If a thing that's movin' hits a thing that ain't, he decided, the other thing gets knocked away. Goes in the direction of the first thing. Ezra… the train would've pushed him. He's a damn sight lighter. Even with that glowy thing, he would've flown a bit.

So Vin searched, trying to plot where Ezra might have ended up. When he spotted a hump of green amongst the black, scattered debris, he started off after it.

He'll be okay, the tracker decided. He'll be just fine. That glowing thing would've kept him safe right? 'Cause me slappin' him ain't any different then a train comin' at him full steam. Right? And he felt his chest tighten. He'll be just fine!

He kept his eye fixed on the spot of green as he closed on it, a man. No doubt now. A man, lying on his stomach – not moving. And he quickened his step, closing the distance. Move, damn it! Oh, God… move. Ezra, please… Finally, he let out a sigh as he saw the shape roll onto his back. Thank God… oh, thank God!

"Ezra!" Vin shouted as he reached the con man.

Ezra turned toward him, looking confused, but amazingly clean in spite of the fact that he had been driven a half-foot into the soil. "Man down," he muttered.

"What was that, Ezra?" Vin asked, not sure that he'd heard the murmured words correctly.

Ezra blinked and stated, "D'ya know, that Pacal the Great had six toes?"

"Ezra?" Vin asked cautiously, glancing over his shoulder and relieved to find Nathan headed their way. The healer appeared to be smiling widely, obviously thrilled to see the gambler sitting up.

"Pascal II. Imagine the expense of specially engineered footwear. No wait… that was Anne Bolelyn." He rubbed his head as he thought. "No… no… not an extra toe. She had eleven fingers... extra nipple. Unless I have my facts muddled. Katherine the Great... something about a horse. Vin!" Ezra seemed surprised to see him. "Vin, did I ever mention that a moose once bit my sister?"

"Ezra," Vin chuckled, too damn happy to find the gambler alive. "You don't have a sister."

"Oh," Standish responded. "That would explain the moose, then, wouldn't it?"

"He okay?" Nathan called as he reached them, clapping a hand to Vin's shoulder.

"Got his bell rung," Vin responded, and on cue, someone knocked over the blasted bell from the train -- it clanked pathetically. Squatting down beside the gambler, Vin checked him over. "Seems okay to me," he decided.

Ezra shook his head, trying to clear it as he patted the device at his chest. "Handy bit of business," he commented.

Nathan frowned. "Doubt it was meant for stopping a train!" he chided. "Ezra, you could've gotten yourself killed." He dropped to his haunches beside the gambler. "You sure you're okay?"

Ezra grinned at the two. When he heard a joyful shout, he turned to the wreckage of the train, seeing Josiah waving widely at them. The big man started toward them with the others. "Getting better by the minute." He felt his pockets and seemed relieved to find his flask – a bit bent, but still un-breached.

He uncapped it and lifted it for a drink, but stopped as he remembered. He pulled back his jacket to see the device, glowing on his chest. "Lord," he murmured, "I need a drink. As much as I've appreciated its use, I wish the damn thing would come off."

And it did. One moment it was green and bright, tightly adhered to the southerner's chest. The next moment, the light was gone, and it rocked forward and dropped onto Ezra's lap.

The gambler gave a happy sigh as Nathan snatched up the thing. The healer examined it, and Ezra took a much-needed slug of 'courage'. "You wouldn't happen to have any food on you?" Standish asked the two men when he lowered the vessel. "I feel rather overcome with manly hunger."

Vin patted at his jacket and shrugged apologetically.

"How 'bout we head to town," Nathan suggested. "Check out that restaurant you've been goin' on about."

"Excellent idea!" Ezra exclaimed.

"Ezra!" Josiah called, stretching his arms wide as they reached them. "Son, you're okay!"

"Standish," Chris greeted, smiling down at the gambler in the grass.

"Ezra!" JD cried. "Dang it, Ezra. You scared the tar out of us!"

"Hey, Ez! Lookit you, stopping trains and flyin' better than JD," Buck added, cheerfully starting to punch the man, but drawing back at the last moment with a shake of the head as he remembered what had happened to Vin.

Josiah, who was leaning forward in an attempt to give Ezra a mighty bear hug, stopped too.

"Boys," Nathan said, holding up the apparently 'inactive' device. "He ain't got it on."

Before Buck or Josiah could complete their abandoned attempts at accosting him, Ezra scrambled to his feet. "Now, now…" he stalled, holding out his hands to keep them away. "Give me a moment to recover. We'd been discussing our dinner plans when you arrived. And, you must remember -- moments ago -- was hit by A TRAIN!"

Chris took the device from Nathan. "How'd it come off him?" he asked. "The train do it?"

"No," Nathan responded. "Was on him and glowing when we found him."

"Come off when he said he wanted it to come off," Vin filled in. "Must be smart."

"Smarter than Standish," Larabee jibed. "Trying to stop a train… now that's my idea of idiotic."

"I managed it!" Ezra countered. "Saved the town!" With a sneer, he stepped close enough to Josiah to snatch the hat from his hands. Josiah responded by grabbing Ezra by the arm and pulling him into a stifling embrace.

Ezra let out a startled cry, but there was no help for him -- Josiah had him in his mighty grip. Standish reached a hand toward Larabee. "Chris," he pleaded. "The device! I beg of you. Toss it here!"

The leader shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, the device clutched in one hand. "Nothing doing," he responded. They laughed as Ezra fought, but he wouldn't be able to escape Josiah's grasp.

"Where does a thing like that come from?" Buck asked reaching out a hand for the odd shaped device.

"Got no idea," Chris responded. "Does it matter?"

"Not as long as it works," Buck responded as he pressed it to his chest. It wouldn't stay put and wouldn't glow. "Must work only on Standish," he muttered.

"What makes him so special?" JD asked, laughing as Ezra finally got loose of Josiah. He snorted in amusement as Ezra used him to block the preacher from getting any closer.

Larabee shrugged, taking the device back from Buck and putting it in his pocket for safekeeping. "He's one of us," Chris replied. "Guess that's enough."

Vin cocked his head, wondering if there was something else to it. It didn't work on JD or himself. There was something more to it -- something more to Ezra -- they just hadn't figured it out yet. Of course, there would be time for that later.

"Come on, Boys," Chris declared. "Lets get this taken care of, then head to town. Get somethin' to eat."

"Mr. Larabee!" Ezra called, holding JD by the shoulders to keep him as a shield from Sanchez, who made one last attempt to reach him. "I truly need the device returned to me… now!"

"Maybe later," Chris responded. "Depends on if you've been good or not."

"I saved the town!" Ezra insisted, pointing emphatically toward Marcelonia.

"But look at the mess," Chris said, gesturing toward the wreck of the train.

"Oh, I'm not cleaning that up," Ezra replied, lifting his chin imperiously. "And you can't make me."

Chris just chuckled in response as the group made their way to retrieve the horses – and Larabee wondered if Ezra had figured out how he was going to get home. "Better play nice, Ezra," Chris uttered.

"Hey, Ezra," JD called, spinning out of the conman's grasp now that Josiah had moved away. "You think you'd let me throw you off the Grain Exchange?"

"Yeah, we could see if you bounced," Buck added with a laugh.

Vin chuckled and suggested, "Figure you could place a bet or two on the outcome."

Ezra paused. "Gentlemen," he started. "An excellent idea. Let's discuss the matter."

"We'll see if I let you get this back," Chris added, holding the device aloft.

Ezra just continued to grin, realizing that retrieving the piece from Larabee might be akin to finding the lost city of Atlantis. Not a problem, he resolved, and he smiled widely as he considered the possibilities.

THE END
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