LOUD SQUEAL

Damn.. is this thing on?? :::tapping noise::::::: OK, Hi gang, this is the Smarmsluts here... we have descended upon your M7 fic list to bring you the following story.

Hey.. who said YOU could be the spokesman? (voice2)

Yeah! thought I was going to do the talking...(voice3)

Sorry you two, you did elect me Queen of the Smarmsluts, now if you'll excuse me these kind M7 fans are waiting...

No way, I wanna do the announcing! (voice3) :::::::::::::loud thumps and scuffling :::::::::::

HEY! would you two quit! (voice2) :::::more thuds and snarling noises:::::::

::::::::::::::Crack of a bullwhip:::::::::::

ENOUGH! (Voice1)

Yes ma'am. (Now meek Voices 2&3)

Now. Since I am the Queen of the Smarmsluts, and you are the Smarmslut Adept (pointing to voice2) and you are the SmarmslutMaster (points to voice3) we all have our roles! I mean since we stole this sequel from the author.

Master: Umm... Adept... did you remember to feed her this week?

Adept: Oh crap! I knew I forgot something!! I thought it was your week? (pointing to Queen)

Queen: Oh no you don't!! I kidnapped Carla and told her we were using her story... YOU two were the ones to tie her up and throw her in the closet so she couldn't stop us! She's your responsibility!

Master: I guess this means no more pets?

Queen: You got it! Well M7 fans.. on with the schtick... this is a sequel to Carla's (Whom we hope is still alive in the closet) Legacy Of Fire.. archived at Katies FanFic Archive for all you who haven't read it.

Adept: We recomend you do read it first...

Master: Yup we do.

:::::::::crack of bullwhip::::::::::::

Queen: STOP INTERRUPTING ME!

Adept and Master: Yes ma'am.

Queen: Anyway, this is a sequel, we stole rights for it from Carla, so blame her if you don't like it! <WEG> Hope you all enjoy this... at least as much as we enjoyed torturing Ezra!


On with the story. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

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Ashes of the Mind, pt 1
by the Smarm Sluts


Ezra was running.

To where?

Didn't matter. They didn't care, why should he?

Oh God not again...

It was a dream, and he knew it was, but he couldn't wake up, and he really wanted to because he knew what was coming.

No images, really, only feelings; running fast, and a terrible, crushing loneliness, a childish sense of alienation and anger. I hate them.

An explosion somewhere, loud; the world tilted, people screamed, people were running everywhere, but he was all alone.

Where were they?

Where was she?

He was falling, choking, and all alone; below him was cold, black water, and above him walls of roaring fire, he was going to die, and nobody cared, nobody was coming, he wanted her to come so bad, it was so hot, the walls were coming down on him, he was going to drown, he was going to burn, and the terror was eating him alive, where was she-

"Ezra!"

He gasped, coming awake with a sickening start; his heart was going like a rabbit's, and he looked down to see his fists clutching the bedclothes in sweaty, crunched bundles. For a moment he was unsure where he was, then it all came back: his rented room above the saloon. Four Corners. And someone calling his name...

"Ezra? You OK?"

Ezra gasped again, catching his breath and trying to compose himself. After taking a deep breath he said, in as steady a voice as he could, "You may come in, Mr. Dunne."

The door opened, and a youthful, black-eyed face peered in, full of curiosity and concern.

"God," the young man said after a moment, "you look like you seen a ghost."

"Merely the ill effects of a late evening, I assure you," was the smooth reply; he wasn't going to let anyone know he hadn't been sleeping lately, or having nightmares. It was none of their business, and he could take care of himself.

JD seemed to accept this explanation. "Oh-what happened, did you lose at the tables?"

Ezra dragged himself up and rubbed his face. "Uh-yes."

"Huh. Geez, why doesn't that ever happen when I play you?"

The gambler eyed him with annoyance. "I'm sure I have no idea. Is there a reason you're invading my chamber, son?"

JD looked surprised. "Don't you remember, Ezra? You an' me an' Vin are escortin' that treasury shipment to Eagle Bend. Vin sent me up to get you."

"Of course I remember," Ezra said, pulling his legs over the bed. "But I was told we weren't to leave until one o' clock. So why the devil are you getting me up so early?"

JD fidgeted a bit. "Um, Ezra-it's 12:30."

Ezra stared at him, too surprised to hide it; he'd been so exhausted that he'd slept past noon, although he felt as if he'd just closed his eyes. But in a moment he recovered and stood up, laughing a little to hide his discomfort.

"Well, you must forgive my lethargy, Mr. Dunne," he said lightly. "Rest assured I shall be ready to go when the bell tolls one."

JD looked puzzled. "What bell, Ezra?"

He received a slightly annoyed glance, then a patient smile. "Don't worry about it, son. I shall be ready to go when the time comes."

JD considered this, then shrugged. "OK. See ya downstairs."

He closed the door, and Ezra could hear his footsteps going down the hall and the stairs to the saloon below. He sighed and went to the washbasin, splashing his face several times with cold water and trying to compose himself. Used to a lifetime of having to adapt quickly, he managed this feat fairly quickly; by the time he was shaved and dressed, no one would have guessed by looking at him that he had not had a good night's sleep in weeks.

It had all started after the incident with Jed Maxwell, in which Ezra had been held captive for a time by the sadistic crminal and his gang. He had been beaten and wounded, but those pains had all healed; what was harder to leave behind was the horrifying image from an incident during his captivity.

A man, one of Jed's hired guns, falling into the campfire, burning up alive, right before Ezra's eyes.

Ezra shook his head quickly, as if he could dislodge the terrible memory of the man's death, his agonized screams and his companions' callous indifference to his suffering. And now, although the bruises of his ordeal were gone, a new wound had appeared, one which afforded him no rest, baffling in its vagueness yet almost tangible in its reality. Nightmares, not of that fire, but another one, somewhere else, seemingly long ago; and not that unfortunate man, but Ezra himself, only a young child, facing a lonely, unseen fate.

God, he sighed to himself as he smoothly tied his cravat, what the hell was happening to him? Was he losing his mind? Why was he dreaming about fire and running-had that really happened to him or was it a fevered delusion? He could recall no such incident in his past, but the feelings were so vivid that they still burned at the bottom of his soul. Who was he running from-and to?

Finally he stood before the mirror, resplendent in his well-tailored finery; he drew himself up as he examined his reflection and smiled. There was no reason not to believe that this would all eventually pass; perhaps a nice ride out of town would clear his head and restore his health. Then there would be no more sleepless nights or horrifying nightmares. A few weeks of quiet, and everything would settle back to normal.

With this optimistic idea in is head, Ezra grabbed his black flat-crowned hat and headed downstairs.

End pt 1