Stubborn tears dripped from my eyes as I stared up at the tanned skin ceiling of the lodge. Wind Runner had left as silently as he'd come, angry, hurt, disappointed in me. How I had wanted to assure him Stalking Elk was wrong, and had no idea what he was speaking about- yet...I had not been able to. Even my earlier declaration of love was tainted, the words haunting me now. 'I have always loved you...Since I was a child with only the memories of my father to hold onto.' Had I known then, in my heart of hearts, that I was clinging to a past that was long gone, to a father who had died when I was a child?
Turning painfully to face the wall I let my tears come as I wept silently, hating myself for being young and foolish. How I wanted my mother there to hold me, and tell me everything would be alright! How I needed Frank's soothing voice, and his practical, kind guidance! I had never missed my family as much as I did in that moment. Eyes squeezed closed, I lost in myself to inner misery. Sometime later, worn out from silent weeping and emotional strife, I fell into deep sleep.
Wicked dreams tore at me, images of violent deaths and horrible suffering. Wandering through dark visions of terror, I felt my heat shrivel up inside me, cowering away from any emotion or feeling. Fear began to paralyze my senses as a dull screaming pulled at me, tugging me persistently from darkness. Blinking rapidly, I woke to the dim interior of the tepee. I was alone, but that was not what had brought me so fully awake. Screams had followed me from the world of dreams, and now echoed against my ears from outside.
Shouting was heard now, and even as I forced myself to sit upright, about to call out, the loud clap of a rifle silenced me. Like thunder the report of the gun spoke loudly, signaling a symphony of noise and chaos erupted beyond the dark lodge where I lay. Horses bugled and snorted, hooves pounding against the ground, screaming, shouting, shooting all mingling together to form deafening noise. Half rolling, the pain in my body so bad I was gasping for breath, I crawled to the flap opening and barely managed to push it partially open.
An arm fell inside the lodge, a war tomahawk tumbling from limp fingers. Clamping a hand over my mouth to stifle a scream, I stared into the dull, lifeless eyes of Stalking Elk. Bile rose in my throat as my stomach twisted, my eyes lifting to see numerous blue coated soldiers on horseback raiding the small village. Adrenaline coursing through me now, I scrambled backwards in terror. From the sound bombarding me outside, I knew they had taken my people by surprise and were likely trying to capture the women and children. If the men fought back at all they would be slaughtered, if the blue coated dogs gave them any sort of chance at all to surrender.
Heart thudding against my ribs, I crawled to the tepee wall farthest from the massacre and pulled at the hide, tugging it up far enough to painfully wiggle through into the warm summer evening beyond. Long shadows were stretching out, blissfully unaware of the violence occurring with their grasp. Not attempting to rise, I forced my wounded, weak body along the ground, pushing through long grass toward the gentle sloping hills and prairie brush. I had to find a place to hide, or I would be grouped in among the women and children, then sent off without a chance to explain.
Hard pounding hooves sounded from behind me, and I flattened to the ground, acutely aware I was wearing a simple buckskin shift that wrapped closed, held in place by a wide, plaited leather belt. There was nothing to distinguish me from my native cousins.
"I thought I saw something, sir!" a man's voice shouted from behind me, and I dared not even breathe.
"There!" anther shout from much farther away sounded the alarm, and I heard a chilling war cry followed by the thundering of gunfire. Tears formed in my eyes the spilled down my cheeks as I listened to the deaths of my people, the brave warriors choosing the path of honor. Careful not to move, I waited until the chaos moved away from me before continuing on. Body pulsing with agony, I felt liquid heat begin to soak through my shift, the wounds tearing open. Fear kept me going, and I slowly made my way into the shelter of brush, pulling my legs into the cover after me.
Something touched my elbow and I nearly screamed, cramming knuckles against my mouth at the last moment. Turning my head to look, I went still as shock rippled through me. Wind Runner lay behind me his chest stained red, open wounds allowing his life to drain from him.
"Kimimela..."
"Shh..." Shaking my head, I put a finger to my lips. "It's not safe."
"Th-there is no danger for me...anymore,"
His words forced me into movement, painfully turning to assess his wounds. One was dreadful, having punched a hole through his lower midsection, the other two merely deep grazes that bled freely but were not serious. With no better options, I mixed his pooling blood into the dry dust, churning it into paste that I spread thickly over the torn flesh. I had nothing to bind him with but my own clothing, and so tugged loose of my belt. Inching to his side, I weakly grasped at long blades of dry grass, pulling handfuls loose to push against the wound, for a cushion and extra absorbance. The belt I used as a sort of tourniquet, to tie them in place to help staunch the flow of blood. His eyes were glazing over but he seemed to be breathing steadily, and I let my fingers trace over his cheek, accidentally leaving red streaks behind.
"Wind Runner, I-" A scream was ripped from me as my ankle was roughly grasped and my body yanked brutally from the brush out into the open. The leather wrap I wore caught and partially came free as I was pulled into the open. Writhing in panic, I struck out with clawed fingers, only to have them slapped away. A dark shadow was standing over me in the growing twilight, then the man bent closer.
"Jaynie Colter?! What in the blazing thunderation-?"
"No-!" trying to scramble away, I screamed as he caught me, flipping me over to clamp a dirty gloved hand over my mouth.
"Shut up!" His hiss was urgent. "You wanna ever get home, you don't let them soldier boys know you're here!"
Tearing his hand away, gasping for air, dizzy with pain, I glared at him.
"What are you doing here? What do you care if I get home again?"
"No time for that now, just listen," he turned suddenly, looking behind him, then all around to make certain we were alone. I dared not shift my gaze from him, terrified he would suspect Wind Runner was so close by. Al Baily finally looked back at me, leaning down to keep his voice low.
"I'll get you outta here, but you stay quiet or so help me I'll leave you to die. You ken, squaw?"
Mute, knowing he meant what he said and needing help, I nodded. Half kneeling, he slid a powerful arm under me and bodily pulled me to my feet. I tried to stand but the pain was so bad I could hardly see, and clung to him for stability and support.
"I thought you squaws was supposed to be tough," he growled impatiently. "Stop hangin' on me, I gotta get you up on that pony."
"I- I can't..." so dizzy I could not see, temples throbbing, muscles quivering from shock and stress, I tried to hold on to him but Al pulled free. The hard slap caught me off guard and jarred my senses alert. His eyes were narrow, his lips tight, and hated flooded through me but I was too weak to protest.
"I ain't babyin' you half-breed. You wanna get home you get up on that horse an' don't fall off."
The horse was saddled, and with his gruff help, I managed to get up, clinging tenaciously to the long mane and pummel. His own mount was nearby then we were riding away, and I cast a look back, seeing the line of half a dozen women between the columns of solider being led away. There were no warriors in sight. Sealing my grief inside my heart, I faced forward and let the man I was forced to trust lead me off into the gathering night. At some point I slipped into unconsciousness.
Crackling flamed brought me back to the world, along with warm dampness on my skin. At first I thought I was still among the People, safe and cared for in the lodge of Stalking Elk. Then memory came rushing in on me as I forced my eyes open. As my vision swam into focus, I found Al kneeling over me, my deerskin wrap laying fully open as he bathed my wound. Instantly trying to cover up, he irritably batted my hands away, meeting my eyes with a glower.
"Stupid girl," he muttered. "Let me get this clean of fever will kill you sure."
"I'm fine-"
"Shup your trap," his snap was angry. "You been hit hard, and the bullets still in there. It's gotta come out."
"What?" Alarm pulsed though me but Al ignored my wide, startled look and held up a skinning knife.
"I cleaned the blade...bite down on this." He shoved a dried branch the thickness of two fingers into my mouth and before I could protest, rolled me partly on my side. In a quick movement and a white slash of pain, I swallowed a scream as my jaws ground into the wood. I felt his fingers push at my skin then something warm and soft was pressed there.
"Done," he held the bloodied metal bit up for me to see. "It was right near the surface."
"I hate you," I managed to croak, glaring at him. Al returned my gaze expressionless, then shrugged.
"Don't care."
He bandaged me swiftly then at last allowed me to pull the shift closed, concealing my naked skin from his critical eyes. I watched him move around a little, then he held out a cup of coffee to me.
"Drink it, you'll be needin' the strength."
"I need nothing from you Al Baily."
"No?" I thought there was a faint bit of sarcasm in his tone then. "Fine, starve. I got no preference."
"Why are you doing this? You don't care for me at all...and the soldiers, how did they find us?"
"You won't like what I got to say," he warned, taking a long swallow of coffee. Studying his features, I finally gave in.
"Perhaps I am a little thirsty."
"You had your chance, squaw." Deliberately he took another drink, meeting my eyes.
"You disgust me."
"I ain't so fonda you neither Jaynie Colter," reaching easily behind him, Al poured more coffee from the pot on the flames, then held the cup out to me. "Drink."
"I thought-"
"You really arguin'?" he interrupted. "Just take it!"
Glaring, anger hot within me, I accepted the drink, letting the thick liquid work its way down my throat into my stomach. The coffee was soothing, and filling on my weak system. Handing the cup back, I watched Al purposefully wipe the rim clean before taking another drink. I shot him a hate filled look, which he heartily returned.
"You didn't answer me, earlier."
"'Bout that Indian village?" finishing the cup of coffee with a gulp, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "I led 'em to it."
BOOM! Who saw that coming?
~Sara