Love and Other Foolhardy Hobbies [On Hold]

Chapter III

Now in the front hall, I finally push away the shock and the pain for a moment allow myself to think for a moment. I lean against a wall, careful to keep my back untouched. I don't want to damage it any more than it already is. I gaze at the wooden floorboards beneath my bare feet as they shake with the stampede of girls racing through the house.

What is going on? Why are those men here?

I look up from my careful inspection of the ground just in time to plaster myself against the wall as the herd of girls go rushing by. 

"Wait! Stop!" I shout as the rest of the girls race for the front door. They are running straight into a den of wolves. Through this midnight fog, no one will be able to tell man from women, the shooters from the innocent. "No! Don't go!" I hurry after them and into the dark of night.

The world is a giant cloud of smog, powder from the guns, and smoke from the now burning barn across the clearing. The stars and moon do little to light our path but I saw enough from the upstairs window to know that the girls are running straight for the group of strangers. The attackers. 

Out of the fog a shape appears in the middle of the courtyard. "Don't!" he shouts at the stampede of girls barreling towards him. Not one of the girls heed his warning. 

Halfway between the bunkhouse and the group of strangers, a loud click sounds out. Even through the screams, the sharp sound is clearly heard. At first nothing happens. The girls keep running, the shooting continues, and the smoke continues to impair all vision.

Then, a great cloud of fire explodes from the ground. Right beneath the girls. The screams are overtaken by the large roar of flames and the ground beneath my feet trembles and shakes. The force spends me crashing into the bunkhouse. Pain erupts from my chest and face. It tears at my flesh and digs itself into my bones. The blaze of agony seers it's way to all ends of my body. I gasp for breath. 

The fire is quick to die down. A strong wind blows some of the smoke away until the damage is visible. Where the girls once stood, there is now only a crater. They are gone. Not one trace of the girls remains. 

I clamp my jaw shut and try to blink the tears of shock back. The world is strangely quiet. Only my breaths --half-hiccups, half-sobs-- and distant shots. No screams, no shouts... no voices. Even the gunshots are fewer.

A mounting pressure in my chest begins to push itself up onto my throat. A thick smoky taste fills my mouth. I part my lips and it all comes out. A great cloud of burning, gritty smoke and ash. It's like sand in my mouth. Harsh, flaming sand that finds its way into every crack and digs its own little burrow.

The smoke starts to clear. Through the dissipating cloud, I can make out a form kneeling, half a dozen meters away. In his hands, he holds a shotgun, aimed right at me.

I close my eyes and clench my fists, waiting for the defining gunshot that will end my life.

I take a deep breath and wait... and wait... and wait. One of my eyes shoots open to find the shooter in a heated debate with another man... the one that had warned the girls. He has the barrel of the gun clenched tightly in his hand, slowly guiding it away from me. Their voices are too low to hear but, as the fog thins out, their faces are slowly decipherable.

I gasp as I recognize the men. The strong frame and short cropped hair on the one standing up. The tousled blonde hair and the blind eye of the shooter.

The men at the saloon.

They seem to be a little too engrossed in their 'discussion' to pay any attention to me. Their voices start rising and the shooter stands up from his kneeling position to meet the eye of his comrade. I push myself up onto my feet. If I had thought that the pain couldn't get any worse, I was wrong. Every movement sends an all new level of pain shrieking through my blood. I let out my held breath and the pain seems to pull back a little, Making it bearable enough to think.