Mercifully, B.A. was right, and some mile and a half down the road, they pulled into the parking lot of a motel. After a quick stop in at the front desk so that Hannibal could run in and get their rooms, B.A. drove down to the far end of the lot and parked in the space closest to the two rooms Hannibal had gotten them.

"Alright, Murdock, we're here," Face said as the door slid open. B.A. and Hannibal were waiting outside for him.

"What you talking about?" Murdock said sluggishly. His eyes opened just enough to give Face a half-lidded stare, and he shifted a little. "Y'all been here the whole time, haven't you?"

"No, fool, we're at the motel." But B.A.'s words were softened by the supportive hand he put on Murdock's shoulder. "Come on, let's get your crazy self inside."

"Aw, B.A.—" his voice caught a little as he tried to get his legs around in his seat, "—I never knew you cared."

When it became clear Murdock wasn't going anywhere on his own power, Hannibal stepped in. "B.A., get his legs. Face, you help him out."

The process was all too familiar, only instead of a gunshot wound, Face wasn't even sure what was wrong with Murdock. He'd thought it was just the rope burn and bruising, but then when B.A. tried to pull his legs around towards the door, he let out a sharp hiss of a yelp and jerked back as well as he could.

"Careful with his leg," Hannibal said. "That tree might've done more damage than we thought."

"There wasn't a tree, Hannibal."

"There was a tree, Face. Just not in the van."

Face took a second to process. "You mean he actually did have a tree on his legs?"

"Hey, now, ain't no reason to fret, my fine facial friend," Murdock said with a grin that might've been lazy, if it weren't for the tension setting his jaw. "This old racehorse's got a few more laps in him." As if to prove his point, Murdock started to swing his legs around.

From the looks of things, he nearly ended up passing out for his trouble. Something about his left leg was giving him fits, and combined with his stomach, he wasn't going anywhere fast.

"Easy," Face said, bracing a hand on his shoulder from behind to keep him from pitching forward. He still had his hand on Murdock's belly, but he was dead sure Murdock didn't want him supporting all his weight on that. "Just take it easy, Murdock."

Mercifully, Murdock didn't try anything else, though he did let out a grunt that sounded strangely like a horse's snort when B.A. helped him down. Face was quick to take up his other side, pulling his arm over his shoulder and grabbing him about the waist, all the while keeping his hand on the bandage.

"Don't push it," Hannibal said. "Slow as you need to go, Murdock."

Murdock's face was pinched with the strain of staying upright, and he was clearly winded even just getting on his feet, but he still somehow managed to prattle out the tune to "First Call" like he had a trumpet to his lips

"This ain't no horse race," B.A. said.

They were coming up on the curb, though, so Face's attention was elsewhere. "Watch your step."

"Howlin' Mad clears the hurdle," Murdock said as he managed to pseudo-hop onto the curb. "He bobbled at the break, nearly broke down on the track, but he's gonna finish strong."

Hannibal was waiting with the door open when they got to it. "Put him down on the bed."

They did, and with a little bit of maneuvering, they got him lying down on the bed. The effort it had taken, particularly on Murdock's part, had left him panting, but there was still that same strained, borderline-hysterical grin on his face. "And the crowd goes wild!"

"Yeah, Murdock, we're all cheering for you," Face said as he perched his hip on the side of the bed. Reaching over, he pulled Murdock's hat from his head and pressed his hand to his sweat-slicked brow. "Hannibal, he's got a fever."

Hannibal pulled the bandage away from Murdock's stomach and frowned. "It's the wound; it's infected. B.A., get me that peroxide."

"All we got's rubbing alcohol," B.A. said, handing Hannibal a nearly full bottle of clear liquid.

Hannibal took it. "It'll have to do. Face, get his shirt off, if you can."

And so the fun began.