Set Fire to the Rain, Ch. 7 "Swept Away"

This fic is intended for mature readers due to the vivid depiction of a consensual adult relationship.  The setting is First Season, post-“The Preacher”, screenplay by John Dunkel, story by John Meston, original airdate June 16, 1956. This fanfiction was written with absolutely no regard whatsoever to actual Kansas topography, geography or meteorological activity, not to mention equine expertise.

Matt latched onto Kitty's waist tightly while she clung to the saddle horn and clutched the horse's reins with desperate fingers, frantically trying to steady him.  She could see the whites of the horse's frightened eyes as he tossed his head and whinnied in panic.  Matt hastily reached around her and seized the wet mane with one hand, hoarsely muttering in her ear, "Hold on!"

Matt watched with alarm as the coiled rope floated off their saddle and, gritting his teeth through the stabbing pain, reached out and snatched it from the greedy current, hitching it securely over his arm and onto his shoulder.

Buck battled the aggressive floodwater valiantly despite his double load, struggling to stay afoot in the swirling, eddying torrent that splashed chaotically all around them, overtaking trees and bushes and grassland.  Manmade objects, violently washed downstream, floated desolately past:  fence posts, chicken coops, and rain barrels littered the murky, foaming water along with tree limbs and the pitiful, lifeless bodies of small animals sacrificed to the unexpected deluge.

The encroaching water rose ever higher, and the overwhelmed horse lost its footing and stumbled.  Kitty cried out in alarm as the animal slipped from beneath her.  Her voluminous, water-logged skirts were dragging her down into the depths of the cold, filthy water until she felt a hand snatch the back of her jacket and yank her, retching and coughing, to the surface.  She clung frantically to Matt as they were swept downstream with the debris, their heads going under again and again as they fought to stay afloat against the burdensome, confining clothing that cruelly threatened to pull them to the bottom of the black river.

Abruptly, their swift journey was halted as they smashed into a stationary object with a force that knocked the wind out of Kitty.  She thankfully felt Matt's arms wrap securely around her as she struggled to suck the air back into her screaming lungs.  Dazed and weakened, grateful for his strength and his presence, she laid her head against his chest until breath returned to her body at last.  She raked the streaming hair out of her face and looked up at her rescuer.

She saw Matt, face bloodless and desperate, trying to wrench the coil of rope from where it was slung onto his shoulder.  He held steadfastly to the object that had ceased their movement, a tree trunk, while he fought the current threatening to wash them away again.  Kitty wrapped one arm around the trunk and with the other helped Matt unwind the rope and use it to lash themselves securely to the tree.  Hoping their bindings would hold, they clung together, bodies shaking and exhausted, praying for the strength to hang on.  Matt's head dropped limply onto Kitty's shoulder as he fell mercifully unconscious with the mighty flood raging unrelentingly around them.

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Kitty desperately felt for signs of life in Matt for the hundredth time.  He had remained unconscious, one of her arms wrapped tightly round him, her hand possessively curled around the back of his neck, the other arm hugging the only thing that had kept them from drowning, the stolid tree trunk.  Matt's breathing was shallow, but she comforted herself with the feel of his chest rising and falling steadily against her own.

She didn't know how much longer they could last like this.  Her fingers were wrinkled prunes and numb to boot, and her body ached from being lashed to the tree trunk for so long.  They were both shaking with cold.  Kitty had been freezing and wet for so long now she'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to be comfortable.

The pallor of Matt's skin frightened her.   She had to get him to a warm, dry shelter, and a doctor, soon.  An exhausted tear slipped mutinously from the corner of one eye, getting lost instantly in the raindrops spattering her cheeks.  She laid her head against Matt's big shoulder and prayed for the deadly waters to recede.   She prayed for a miracle, until she finally fell into a deep, fatigued sleep.

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Kitty's head jerked upright, disoriented, dizzy and confused.  The large, wet man's head resting on her chest brought it all rushing back like the floodwaters that had assailed them hours before though.  She placed her hand on Matt's pale cheek and sighed with relief when she felt his breath on her face.  Then she noticed the water around them.  The floodwaters had receded considerably, and the current was no longer strong.

Urgently, she held Matt's battered face between her palms and entreated, "Matt, wake up!"

His head continued to loll in her hands.  "Matt, please!"  She gently shook his shoulders and stroked his cheek.  "You've got to wake up!  We need to get out of here!"

Matt's eyes opened just a slit as he quietly moaned.

"Wake up!  I can't do this by myself.  You've got to help me."  She rubbed a hand over his forehead and both his cheeks, forcing him to look her in the eyes.  "Come on, snap out of it, Matt Dillon, let's get out of this water and get you someplace warm and dry."

She began untying the ropes that bound them together to the tree.  It looked like the water was only waist high now.  She hoped that perhaps they could just walk to the bank of the river.

Matt eyes became more focused as she jostled him, struggling to yank the knots out that they had secured the night before.  It was gray dawn, but the ominous storm clouds still hovered overhead.  He fumbled to help her, and soon they were free.  They gingerly lowered their feet and happily encountered the sludgy mud at the bottom of the engorged riverbed.  She grabbed his hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and together they struggled up the silty bank to firmer ground.

Collapsing on the riverbank, side-by-side, the enormity of their situation hit her as she gazed over at her injured companion, his eyes sunken and complexion pallid.  They had no horse, no food, no shelter…  A lump formed in Kitty's throat, and she slipped her hand into Matt's and squeezed gently.

Matt mumbled something unintelligible beside her.

"What?" she asked, raising up and leaning on an elbow.  "Did you say something?"

Eyes closed, he murmured more clearly, "Homestead…"

A glimmer of hope lighted in her chest.  Matt knew this country like the back of his hand.

"Matt, tell me…"

She had to lean her ear near his mouth to understand him.  "Deserted…behind those trees…a ways over."  He had to rest and draw another shallow breath.  "Can't see it from here."

"Are you sure?"

"Course… I'm sure…." he gasped.  "Dead…fever…Chester and I buried them… few months ago…"

Her eyes widened.  She'd prayed for a miracle…  "Can you walk?"

He opened one swollen, black eye and looked at her wearily.  "No…"  Groaning, he sat halfway up.  "…but I will."

tbc

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