Ezra rode on, still buzzing with the satisfaction of besting Barnaby. It was an incredibly thrilling feeling indeed.

But more importantly, he was elated at securing the means of rescuing Vincent. The horse in itself was a Godsend, but also having Buster at his side was an even greater blessing.

His tracking skills, sense of smell, and ability to scout ahead with better night vision than Vincent or even Duke; would go a long way in speeding up their progress.

Ezra had a keen sense of direction and an idea of the path he would need to take in order to return to Vincent, but travelling at night made it far more difficult to safely navigate. Especially at high speed. In addition, the lack of light also made it far easier to get lost.

His mind raced as he rode swiftly through the darkness. Ezra knew his best bet was to ensure they didn’t stray from the trail. This had one major caveat.

It required getting a lock on Vincent’s scent. That presented a problem since he’d left Vincent with all of his belongings. Ezra berated himself for not thinking of it sooner.

He should have brought something with him so they could track him, but it simply hadn’t occurred to him at the time. His focus was on getting back to camp as soon as possible. There wasn’t really any room to be distracted by other thoughts and there was no way he could anticipate what he would need in the future.

Things hadn’t exactly gone as he’d planned. In fact, things couldn’t have turned out any further from what he had imagined. The situation was far worse than anything he had anticipated. In his mind, the journey there would be the difficult part. Once he finally arrived, all would be well, or so he thought.

He was still bitterly disappointed at the response he’d received. Not a single one of those cowards even the barest inclination to help. It really put things into perspective. Ezra had naively been under the impression that he had friends. Dependable people that he could rely on to do the right thing if he ever needed their help, but when the chips were down, they had proven themselves to be untrustworthy.

At least he knew who his real friends were now. Well, friend anyhow. But even that was in question. He remembered when the bear had first attacked and how Vincent had abandoned him to his fate. The thought of it still pained him. The sting of betrayal still fresh in his memory. The more he dwelt on it, the darker his mood became. He shook his head, attempting to banish the poisonous thoughts. He couldn’t afford to be distracted now.

One wrong move could result in disaster and with the deck already stacked against them every step of the way, it would take one small mistake to slam the door on his only chance at rescuing Vincent. Whatever their beef and whatever their differences, he still had a duty as a friend and as a human being. They could work through their problems later, but if he didn’t manage to keep him from dying, they’d never have a chance for closure. He needed to stay sharp and maintain total focus.

Ezra adjusted his hat and set his jaw with a new sense of determination. Nothing was going to stand in his way. He’d come too far to make any missteps. He would make it to the finish line no matter what.

The path had been brutal, but he had overcome all obstacles standing in his way, and was at last, nearing the final stretch. This was the true test of his mettle. He faced impossible odds and had been tested to his limits, but he was still standing. Admittedly, Ezra had many moments of doubt. But now he was convinced, he had the grit to see this through.

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With effort, he pulled his mind away from the jumble of thoughts to focus on the task at hand. “The scent. I need a way to get his scent…” Ezra wracked his brain for an answer, but he couldn’t give his full attention to the problem since he was riding in the dead of night at a dangerous pace. But as he carefully studied the terrain in front of him, expertly dodging obstacles, potholes, and dangerous drops, the solution was percolating in the back of his mind.

He could sense they were already straying from the trail, and he began to worry that he might overcorrect and then be stuck with the same problem. If he did overcorrect and convince himself he was on the right track, it could actually end up being worse than if he were more cautious. Luckily, the old percolator provided him with a timely idea.

He suddenly remembered his pack and realized that he still had some of the old linens he used to bandage Vincent. He struggled to reach for them while maintaining both speed and caution. He did slow down temporarily, as he rifled through the pack awkwardly searching while steering. His speed was not heavily reduced, but enough to mitigate a measure of the risk. Which was still relatively high. He strained until he thought he could feel it with his fingers and attempted to lift it from the pack, but he couldn’t grip it tightly enough.

He reached further back, straining to grasp it, and was nearly clotheslined by a low hanging branch. Thankfully, he was able to dodge it in time and he smiled with satisfaction as he pulled the bandage from the pack and held it up in his hand.

Woah, he called, as he slowed Duke to a stop. He whistled for Buster, and the hounds’ ears perked up. He had been many yards ahead but came running quickly to Ezra’s side. “Here you go boy.” He said, extending his arm so Buster could get a good whiff. The hound took a moment to become familiar with the scent and then sniffed around to calibrate to his target. He searched for a while but didn’t seem to catch onto the scent, so he came back, and Ezra allowed him a more ample opportunity to sniff the bandage this time.

He began searching the area, working to detect the scent. Then suddenly, he stopped and rested on his haunches. He let out a low whine. The hope in Ezra’s eyes faded. And then he reached down to pet Buster’s head. “It’s okay boy. It’s not your fault.” A part of him felt the need to press on, but he couldn’t bring himself to continue. He needed a moment to deal with the sorrow that threatened to drown out his resolve.

Buster continued to whine, and Ezra reached down to pet him with his free hand. “It’s all right boy,” he said. Trying to comfort him. “It’s ok.” Buster licked his hand, then began sniffing again. Inching toward Ezra’s other hand. Trying to sniff the bandages. Ezra shrugged and held out his hand again. Buster buried is nose in the bandages and then began to sniff the air again. He travelled around the area frantically searching for the scent and Ezra observed him with anticipation, hoping beyond all hope that Buster could track Vincent down. Buster hung his head and whined again.

“Don’t worry, boy. Let’s go.” He brushed his hand along Duke, then patted him. “You’re doing great. You both are.” Then he whistled. “Come on Buster.” Buster ignored him. Continuing to sniff. Ezra sighed.

“He doesn’t want to let me down,” he thought with admiration. He shook his head. “Far too good for his master,” he thought not for the first time. In fact, it wasn’t even the first time today. “Such good animals, under the hand of such a cruel man… what a shame.”

Then suddenly Busters’ ears perked up again and he barked with excitement. “Well, I’ll be.” Ezra said aloud. “That crazy mutt actually found his scent.” He chuckled. “I’ll be getting you a nice juicy bone for this one Buster. You can count on it.”

He looked out ahead, noticing that the clouds had parted, bathing the earth with the light of the moon. Ezra smiled and reached down to grab a quick swig from his canteen. “Maybe my luck’s not so bad after all,” he thought to himself. Still grinning. Hiya, Ezra said, urging Duke to ride again. They began, picking up speed once more. Moving from a standstill into a trot.

Then Ezra reared back, his smile quickly fading as he snapped his head in the direction from which they had come. He thought he heard something. “No… no…” he said, his voice low and harsh. He shook his head. “It can’t be…” He closed his eyes, concentrating on the noise. It sounded like… galloping.