Sunday, December 19, 2010

OPENING PAGES

The attack on the wagons did not come suddenly. In fact everyone thought they were ready. The circle formed nice and tight. All weapons loaded and aimed at the hill where the Indians would be coming from. The scouts reported twenty in the party, except there were thirty more braves half mile behind the first group. Unknown to the wagon train they faced annihilation.
   Through the noise and confusion she saw him. His eyes told her he had lied. He lied about the good times ahead. He lied about the happiness they would share.
Shaking fingers touched the object that made him a liar. The arrow sunk deep into his heart. His hand now covered in the rich warm liquid of a life while breathing its last.
She watched as each beat of his heart forced more of his blood outside of his body. He had maybe three or four seconds left.
Ben.” she screamed over the clamor.
He didn't turn toward the sound, it was too late. Blank empty eyes stared ahead and saw nothing.
Noooo.”
Kathy no longer heard the commotion around her. She no longer saw the savages and the slaughter the conflict created. Her heart lay with her Sam. He was all she saw. Spinning out of control her mind raced from one irrational thought to another.
How can we be married tomorrow? It's all set. The wagon master said so. Mr. and Mrs. Brown were going to stand as witnesses. Sam's brother has a job for him in Denver. He must get there on time.
My wedding dress is finished and hanging in the Smith's wagon. That wagon right there, the one in flames. He lied, there would be no wedding, no job, and no future happiness as his wife.
I must get to him, and tell him I forgive him.
On hands and knees she began to crawl toward him.  She ignored the sharp stones and twigs as they cut into her hands and knees. The covered wagons smoldered and the heavy smoke made her cough and choke. People, she recognized, some she tolerated, and some had become good friends. A few still alive, but most were dead.
Still she edged closer to him. “I coming darling.” She thought, she said the words aloud, but she had not.
Her hair caught on something. She could not move any farther. A strong jerk of her head did not free her. Instinctively, a hand reached up toward what held her tight with hopes of unsnarling it. Suddenly, she was being lifted up. The pain now too great to ignore, so she went with whatever had her and stood.
Turning she saw what had her. It was not a what. It was a ....  One blood-curling scream of fear and she fainted. She slumped in to the man. With one hair-raising scream of victory he tossed her limp body over his shoulder fleeing in to the night.

WOULD YOU TURN THE PAGE?

updated Dec,21

Monday, December 6, 2010