"A bunch of birds and a snake spooked his horse." Josiah started.

"And?" Chris snarled.

"He got dragged. When he woke up he insisted we had to come here immediately. There was no stopping him." Josiah's tone was grim as he looked down at the prostrate ladies' man.

He stood in a plain white room. Standing across from him, looking out a window, was the girl he'd seen before. She had long curling, brown hair.

"Excuse me, Miss? Where am I?" Buck asked.

She turned around and Buck's jaw almost dropped. When he'd said she was pretty he had understated it. She had large hazel eyes, in a pale heart shaped face. He wasn't entirely sure how old she was, but she seemed ageless. It also seemed as though the world could not touch her.

She smiled at him. "We're everywhere and nowhere," she replied. "But it doesn't matter where we are.

"What matters is that you're here. And we have a lot to talk about and not a lot of time. I'm needed elsewhere."

"I'm sorry, Miss," Buck interrupted, "but what are you doing?"

"I'm helping," she said mysteriously. "Now, I want you to listen closely."

For a brief moment a smile flickered in his eyes. It seems you have an angel on your side, Mr. Tanner. Your chances are improving.

"Don't you care about anything, Ezra?" Nathan snapped, breaking his reverie.

"Would you care to elucidate on your query, Mr. Jackson?" Ezra asked urbanely.

"Vin should be dead! He's dying right now, so far's I can tell! I can't do anything for him out here, and I don't know if I can do anything for him in town. I don't know if any Doctor could save him! And you sit there calm and cool as a cucumber, just like you do in your poker games!" Nathan spat out the words poker game.

I care, Ezra thought. I care more than I should, and I can't afford to care in my professions. Emotions could get me killed, or placed in jail. They dull the edge. But no one here would understand that.

"Mr. Jackson, did you not inform me that Mr. Tanner should be dead already?"

"Yes."

"And is he holding his own?"

"Yes."

"Then that implies to me, that you are giving up too soon. I have the utmost confidence in Mr. Tanner's complete recovery." Nathan gaped at Ezra, who went back to gazing at the scudding clouds.

She gazed out into a garden that was surrounded by a high wall. It had dead or dying grass, that seemed to reflect what she knew went on inside the building. She had known the place well once.

"Good bye, Lindy, I'll miss you," Vin replied. He turned away from the orphanage and ran to the garden wall. He scrambled up and over it.

Vin dropped to the street and ran off into the twilight.

"Buck, you passed out. We weren't going to leave you," Chris replied.

"Well, I'm awake now. Get going."

Chris looked down at Buck. "JD, stay here with…"

"No," Buck snapped. I'll wait here, and all of you will go."

"Buck," Chris' tone held a warning. Buck ignored it.

"You're all goin', Chris. That's how it's got to be. And we ain't got time to argue, so you had just better get a move on." Buck's face settled into stubborn lines.

"Buck," Chris started to argue. Buck cut him off.

"Those are your instructions from her, Chris, and she hasn't been wrong yet."

Chris sighed. "Let's get going. Buck, if you move at all, I'll kill you myself."

Vin curled up tighter as he tried to preserve his body's heat. The wind whistled and it smelled like rain. He could only pray that his small shelter would keep him dry.

He heard feet pounding by the alley's entrance. And then a voice called out, "Mr. Christoph! South Carolina has seceded! They fired on Ft. Sumter and then they seceded!"

Vin flinched. He knew what that meant, everyone did.

It meant war.

Nathan had almost no hope for Vin's survival, he knew it would take a miracle. And that was something he planned on keeping from Chris for as long as possible.

Ezra didn't even seem to care. Nathan had watched Ezra disrespect him, and try to earn a profit at someone else's expense, but Nathan hadn't thought that Ezra wouldn't care about Vin dying. And then Nathan had lost his temper.

Only to find out that he'd been wrong.

Nathan slowly began to realize how little he knew of Ezra, how little he actually understood. It shocked him, and Nathan didn't know what to do.

"Mr. Jackson," Ezra said without opening his eyes. "Perhaps you would like to remove your jaw from the mud and close your mouth before the flies use it as a doorway. Mr. Larabee should be returning momentarily. I am quite sure that he would desire Mr. Tanner's having your complete attention."

Nathan's jaw snapped shut and he turned back to Vin, deep in thought.

Vin looked at him from his alley. The man was tall and thin, and rather persuasive. Vin, however, was not buying the arguments.

"Those Damn Yankees are tryin' to take away our rights!" he repeated. "We have a right to leave this nation! We have a right to a duly elected president! We have a right to our slaves! The Supreme Court upheld our rights and the North ignored them! Those Damn Yankees continued to do so when they put that abolitionist Lincoln in the White House! And that's why we're fightin'! Defend your rights! Join the army and defend the Confederacy!"

Vin shook his head and slipped back to his shelter.

"Hey boy," another voice said, "ain't you going to join the army?"

We should have stayed together. I shouldn't have sent Vin out on the devil's patrol. I shouldn't have rushed Ezra. I shouldn't have sent Vin out. I shouldn't have sent Vin out. My fault. My fault!

"Where is Vin?" JD gasped, as he tripped on a rock.

They came to the top of the rise and Chris grimly pointed down.

"Right there," he said.

"Why not? I thought it was our patriotic duty," he said.

"Cause he's lyin'. The North ain't robbin' us of anything, and this Confederacy has gone against the Supreme Court more'n once."

The man laughed. "I see you paid attention in school." Vin nodded.

"So if you had to fight, boy, which side would you choose?"

Vin shrugged. "The side that's right."

"And that is?"

"The North."

Vin needs a miracle and Ezra believes he's gonna get it. No, Ezra knows Vin is gonna get a miracle.

But he doesn't look as if he cares. But he does care, and he hides it… Or maybe not, he does believe Vin will survive, and that's the only reason he can relax…

But Ezra cares.

Nathan's thoughts stopped there.

Ezra cares.

Ezra believes even when I don't.

Ezra cares.

Nathan found himself unable to see Ezra in the light he'd always seen him.

He didn't understand Ezra, but he knew that Ezra was not a totally self-serving, uncaring person. Ezra cared, he just hid it.

Ezra cared. He believed.

And if Ezra could do it, then why couldn't he? Nathan knew he had to do his best to bring about the miracle Ezra believed in.

Vin looked at him suspiciously. A little voice whispered in his brain. "Trust him, give him your name."

Vin obeyed. "Vin Tanner."

"Well, Vin, with opinions like yours you won't survive around here for very long."

"Probably not," he agreed.

"I'm leaving the South and heading North. Do you want to go?"

Vin hesitated, and the voice piped up again. "Go! Go!" He nodded.

"Is Vin?" JD asked hesitantly.

"Not when I left," Chris growled.

"What's the matter with Ezra?" Josiah inquired, looking down at the gambler's distant body that was lying sprawled on a rock.

"He hurt his ankle." Chris' eyes darkened even further. "Let's get moving."

Chris thought upon Vin's still form, and a scene apparently unchanged since he left. He dreaded arriving. He dreaded the thought that Vin might have died while he was gone. And his guilt grew.

"All right," Vin agreed. He shivered in the cold wind. "I don't know why you're standing in line with me."

Mike laughed, as he almost always did. "I'm not letting them put you with anyone else, and I'm not even sure how my father got me my rank." He paused, and added, "Not that sergeant is all that great a rank."

"It's better than being a private," Vin answered philosophically.

They reached the head of the line.

"Name?" the recruiter asked, bored.

"Vin Tanner."

"Age?"

"Fourteen."

The recruiter looked up and frowned. "Reason for joining?"

"Sergeant Simpson recruited me as a drummer boy." The recruiter looked at Mike and sighed.

"What company?"

"The 81st," Mike answered easily.

They filled out all of the paperwork and Mike led Vin away.

"Welcome to the army," he said.

Ezra opened his eyes and looked at Nathan's back, and at Vin's prone body, in concern. He sat up. "Were you intending to inform Mr. Larabee of the seriousness of Mr. Tanner's injuries?"

"No."

"Then might I suggest you decided what you are going to say. They are almost upon us."

Nathan looked up and saw his friends descending. "Where's Buck?" he called.

"He got dragged by his horse earlier. He's waitin' with the horses," Josiah replied as they reached the waiting men.

"Why didn't one of you stay with him?" Nathan asked, exasperated.

"Because they are required here," Ezra answered for them. Everyone's eyes turned to him and he shrugged. "Instructions are instructions after all."

"Why do you say that Ezra?" Josiah asked.

"Because they are, and I for one, have no desire to cross our lady."

"Vin?" Mike asked.

He looked up at Mike. "Sir?" he said. Mike sat down next to him.

"I'm not sir, Vin. I'm just Mike. Did you want to talk?"

"Not really."

"What are you thinking, Vin?" he probed.

"It's so awful. There's no point in all this. There's no point in so much violence, to all the deaths we've seen in the last months. The southerners are wrong, but why does it have to be solved by death? It's not like they've committed a huge crime. They're only trying to defend something they think is right. Why does this have to go on?" He gestured at the battle field, and at the medical tents filled with injured and dying men.

"I don't know, Vin. It is senseless, but what we're doing is right. And we should always do what's right."

"I know. I've always known that. I promised I'd always do what was right. But there's no point to all this death."

Ezra sighed. "And so our illustrious sheriff proves once again that he does not comprehend anything."

"Huh?"

"You don't understand, JD," Josiah said. "Frankly, neither do I."

"You disappoint me, Mr. Sanchez. For such a spiritual man, I would have thought the answer would be quite apparent." Ezra looked at Chris.

His temper exploded. "Ezra stop talking nonsense! Nathan, how's Vin?" Chris snapped. Josiah and JD turned away from Ezra.

Shells whistled through the air. They landed with dull thumps that turned into flying earth, body parts and screams. The moans of the injured, and of the dying, blended in with battle cries and shouted orders. Everything faded in and out of flying dust and smoke from the cannons. Bullets kept time and bayonet and sword blades gleamed in the sun.

Chaos reigned.

And it was all Vin knew.

"How are we going to do that?" JD asked.

Nathan sighed. "A stretcher would be nice."

"We don't have one," JD stated the obvious. Chris glared at him.

"And if we don't get him back to town, Brother Nathan, what will happen?" Josiah inquired.

"He'll die."

"And if we move him without a stretcher?"

"He'll still die."

Chris flinched at Nathan's words. "Do you have a solution to this problem?"

Nathan shook his head no.

"The solution to our difficulties is patently obvious," Ezra drawled.

He dropped to the ground behind what was left of a stone wall. He peered over the top of it and blinked.

He had a clear shot. A perfectly clear shot.

He lifted up his rifle and sighted.

The man shouted orders. His horse shifted slightly, and his sword glinted in a small stream of sunlight.

Vin's finger tightened on the trigger.

He pulled it.

The Southern Lieutenant fell from his saddle.

Vin slipped from the wall and melted into the tide of battle.

"Mr. Sanchez, if you would be so kind as to go find four tree branches. Two should be about a foot taller than Mr. Tanner, and one a foot wider. The fourth should be a walking staff."

"Ezra," JD protested, "Vin isn't going to walk out of here."

"Not for Mr. Tanner, you dolt. For me!" Josiah snickered at Ezra's reply and disappeared into the trees.

"Mr. Dunne, please go retrieve Mr. Tanner's saddle and everything with it. You may leave the horse's body there."

JD sighed, but did what he was told.

"What are you doing, Ezra?" Chris demanded.

"Why, I'm building a stretcher, Mr. Larabee."

"No! You can't cut off my arm!"

"Not my leg!"

"Mama? Where are you Mama?"

Some had no words, just sound.

Vin flinched slightly with each one. Mike appeared in the corner of his eye. He sat down and Vin looked at him.

"Happy 15th, Vin," Mike said, softly.

Chris watched Nathan and frowned. "Does he have a fever?"

"Yes," Nathan replied.

"How bad?"

"It's bad enough, Chris. Vin doesn't need this."

Chris cursed and turned his back. His hands clenched.

Ezra sat silently on his rock and listened.

"What a stubborn man," echoed through his brain.

Vin couldn't breathe.

Someone lay on top of him. He didn't move, didn't breathe.

Vin forced his eyes open.

Mike stared blankly down at him.

Vin screamed once and fell silent again. All of his air was gone.

"Ah. Fortuitous timing, Mr. Dunne," Ezra said, as he watched Josiah return with the branches.

Ezra reached down and unstrapped Vin's bedroll. "Mr. Dunne would you kindly exert yourself and remove the stirrups from Mr. Tanner's saddle."

JD looked at him blankly.

"Take the stirrups off of the saddle," Ezra reiterated through gritted teeth.

"Oh… right," JD said. He reached for the saddle to complete the task.

"Mr. Jackson, Mr. Larabee, this will require your assistance," Ezra called.

Chris turned around, a dark look on his face. He stalked over. Nathan stood up next to him.

"Mr. Larabee and Mr. Sanchez, please hold the ends of the longer branches apart, slightly wider than Mr. Tanner."

Josiah shrugged and did what Ezra said. Chris glowered but also did what he was told. Ezra let out an almost inaudible sigh.

"Mr. Jackson, if you would take the smaller branches and one of your knives, I would appreciate it." Ezra rose and limped over to Josiah.

"This better work," he thought.

Bullets flew through the air. Cannon balls exploded, and as always the screams of the wounded and the dying provided an unearthly chorus.

Mike stood next to him, poised, waiting for the Colonel to give the order to charge. Vin fidgeted nervously. He wanted to hear words of comfort from that voice, but it was ominously silent. He wanted to be sitting around the campfire listening to Mike play old melodies on his harmonica, but he couldn't. The music was gone.

The drummer boys held a steady beat, and Vin almost wished he hadn't become a private. His instincts screamed that this battle was a bad idea. Vin clutched his gun and watched the sun glitter of the bayonet blade.

The drum beat changed. His muscles tensed. In the distance he heard a rebel yell, and his soul seemed to separate from his body. He didn't seem to feel anything.

Ezra knew two things, that none of the rest would believe, so he kept them to himself. He knew that Mr. Jackson could heal Vin, and he knew that Vin's angel existed and would see to it.

Vin looked at her silently, accusingly. She sighed.

"You had to leave there you know. You have too much to do to stay in the south and be killed for refusing to fight in the rebel cause. And I know it hurts. I know you started to depend on Mike, in the exact same way I counted on you. But just like it was my time to go, it was his too. At least he died quickly, and he kept you from getting killed. You were lucky it was only a graze and some cracked ribs. That bomb could have blown you to shreds."

Vin remained stonily silent.

"Vin, stop this. It doesn't do any good. You're only hurting more people. Look," Riana pointed behind him. He turned around and looked out of the window in the darkness.

Mike's father stood over a chair that had someone sitting in it. "How long has he been like this?" Mr. Simpson asked.

"Since the battle," a man replied.

"That's you in the chair," Riana informed him. Vin looked closer. He looked thin and scraggily. His body rocked slightly and hummed tunelessly. "Not a pretty sight, is it?"

Vin shook his head no. Mr. Simpson reached out and placed something into a slack hand. Vin leaned forward.

It was Mike's harmonica. A slight keening sound came from his throat. Nothing happened to the body.

"You can't stay here. Mike wants you to have that harmonica. These people are worse than Branson. You have to leave, tonight."

Vin looked at her again and nodded. Riana smiled at him. "Here's what you're going to do."

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