A First Trip Home

Part 4

Screams split the air, followed by the clang! of metal. Villagers mill around as the cowboys tackle the oncoming gangsters; yet, there seem to be dozens of them. My eyes scour the battlefield for the commanding man, the warrior dancer. No sign of them. The gunshot rings in my ears, ropes flying through my mind. I gasp for air as my chest tightens.

Faint hoofbeats fill my ears as I catch sight of the stallions traversing the ridge. The scabrous rocks beyond the ranch seem to smirk at me, tease me.

"I'll show you," I breathe and clench Buttercup's coat as we pelt up the hills.

We screech to a halt near the cliff. Grunts come from a boulder up ahead, only a few meters away from the edge.
"Mother! Father!" I cry, leaping off Buttercup and dashing towards it. But a rifle stops me in my tracks. Pitch black eyes, a trimmed beard, and matted brown hair are visible above it.

"Can't make it that easy for you, can we?" he sneers, grinning at his armed partner: a blonde standing in front of the boulder. As they both chuckle, I pluck the bobby pin out of my hair and press it into the man's arm. The rifle falls out of his palm. Before he can react, I scoop it up, barely managing to carry it in my arms. I immediately tuck into a roll, missing the other gangster's bullet by a hair's breadth. My long legs stretch the most they ever have as I sprint towards the boulder, jumping and sidestepping as a volley of bullets is fired at me, followed by strained gasps. I hear footsteps close behind as Brown pursues me. He leaps on me, struggling for the rifle, tearing my skin. I bite down on my lip, clenching the weapon harder; yet, I feel it slipping out of my grip. I gaze at his smug expression, his audacity to destroy my only hopes of finding myself, and ram my foot into his chin and swing the rifle into his temple. With a satisfying crunch, he tumbles into the mud.

My face and legs feel wet but I zigzag ahead.

'Closer, closer,' my head croaks as the gunshots become a rhythm. Just as I approach the boulder, my boots skid. A hazy brown seeps into my vision. Shrieks fill my head as my mind starts to go blank. The coolness of metal disappears from my palms. I turn my head on the patch of Earth. A pair of black boots stamp in front of me. Between them comes a faint glint of blue, of hope. My spine shoots up; I face the blonde.

"Tell you what, child: I'll spare you. Go home. Tell them they," he turns towards my parents, "disappeared."

"No."

He scoffs. "Think you're smart, do ya? Listen, it's either you or them."

I glance at my parents' limp bodies tied to the boulder. Thick tape muffles their warnings; they shake their heads frantically. I think of how they took me in without any questions, how easy it was to talk to them although they were practically strangers. I look deep into their eyes and I see myself; not a blur I can't comprehend but a girl in love with the country... Someone definite.

A gleam of metal catches my eye. My fingers crawl towards a sheet of thick metal.
"What's it gonna be?" Blonde thunders.

"Them," I announce with more certainty than ever before. My body throbbing, I grab the metal plate as he aims the rifle at me. Click.

I thrust the sheet in front of me, closing my eyes. A shiver runs through my arms as the bullet is deflected straight back. I fall back, a yelp blistering my ears. Finding my balance, I scramble up and, slipping a blade out of Brown's pocket, untie my parents. 

"Oliv-"

"No time," I hasten towards Buttercup, wary of the Blonde recovering from the shock of the bullet through his arm. My parents climb up behind me and we race across the dust."Y-You were amazin'," Mother whispers and pecks me on the cheek. Father's eyes are filled with pride. That familiar warm tingle bathes my entire body. A flood of applause welcomes us as we descend into the village.