Ezra didn't even register the steps he had taken to leave the building. He was so blinded by his rage, that it kept him locked in a catatonic state until the door slammed shut. Then he shuddered, coming to his senses. He found himself standing on the porch outside.

The group that had gathered not far outside headquarters, sprang into action. They turned away guiltily as soon as they had seen Ezra emerging. Trying to appear as if they were busy with some task rather than attempting to eavesdrop.

Ezra fumed, looking at the group in disgust. Behind him, were a couple of wretched excuses for human beings, before him, was a camp of weaklings and cowards. He could feel himself on the verge of tears as he removed his hat and placed his head in one hand.

An overwhelming sense of defeat washed over him. After everything they'd endured. After he pushed himself to his absolute limit. All that hardship was meaningless now.

There was no way he could make it back in time at this point, but he couldn't let it stand. He was tired of defeat. He was tired of getting so close and having his hope ripped away. He was so tired of almost. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to accept defeat.

He wasn't going to let human refuse decide the fate of his most cherished friend.

"No, not just a friend. A brother. it doesn't matter if we have the same blood. We are brothers through and through. I've come too far to lay down now. I refuse to give up, no matter what. I'll do what I have to. I'm going to save him, I swear..."

"Come hell or high water."

He clenched his fists, allowing the rage to take over again. To give him fuel. He looked to the window not far from where he stood, knowing that the foreman was still there, soaking in the warmth and luxury while Vincent was cold and alone, dying under a pile of rocks in a pitiful unmarked grave.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

He looked at the foreman's horse standing next to the hitching post. Everything in him said to move on. He knew that horse theft was essentially a death warrant. Anyone with a sense of self-preservation wouldn't dare. The battle in his mind only lasted an instant. He untied the horse from its hitch, placed his foot in the stirrup, and mounted.

Ezra shuffled briefly in an effort to get comfortable. He clicked his tongue, turned to ride away, then paused.

He looked up at the sky and cursed the clouds. The moon was out, but the clouds were doing their best to smother any ambient light that may have otherwise helped his cause.

"I need a light source," he thought with frustration.

He looked down and saw his shadow cast in front of him, then smiled. He turned and reached out his hand, taking the lantern that hung outside the foreman's front door.

As he positioned himself to ride, the door opened, and Brooks appeared. He had come to take the horse from the hitching post to the stables, only to find it missing. His eyes moved quickly from the hitching post to where Ezra sat on the foreman's horse. Brooks eyes went wide.

"Yah! Yah!" Ezra cried, as he put his heels into the horse's side. It whinnied loudly and began to take off. It became immediately apparent that it wasn't used to him as a rider and its movement was sporadic. Ezra tried to steer it away from the headquarters and back toward the east where he had come from, but it ran along the porch instead.

The horse stopped in front of the foreman's window. The man's jaw dropped, and the cigar fell unceremoniously out of his mouth into the water.

He stood, enraged. He was yelling something, but Ezra couldn't make out the words. He dug deep, sucking up his best ball of phlegm, and spit it smack dab on the foreman's window.

Brooks tried to grab hold of the horse, but it was rearing too wildly for him to get close. The last thing Brooks wanted was to get his skull kicked in, so he wasn't going out of his way to put himself in the animal's path.

Finally, Ezra was able to gain control of the horse enough to get down from the porch. He rode away from the building momentarily, then came to a sudden stop about fifty yards away. Even with the lantern, Ezra's light source would be incomplete. He couldn't rely on ambient light except in situations where the clouds parted.

It would not be sufficient to maintain the speed he would need to reach Vincent in time. He needed another light source. Either that or...

Ezra suddenly had a brilliant idea. He whistled loudly and Buster jumped up instantly, sprinting after him.

Ezra smiled. Then kicked his heels into the horse's side once more. It took off like a lightning bolt.

He galloped into the night, riding like his life depended on it.