'Samson' Chapter 8 'The evil that men do'

CHAPTER 8 ‘The evil that men do’

 

 

It was dark now, in the outside world, but here in the cave where Samson sat next to his fire it was light as the fire illuminated the cavern around him; he did not need the light from his torch unless he wanted to look into the corners where the darkness still clung tight.  Samson had drunk plenty of water he had also now eaten the potato crisps that he had taken from the cabin; now though he was totally out of food; tomorrow he would have to find some berries I’ll use the survival book to show me what I can eat!  Samson lay back on the bed of heathers he had made earlier; he thought of many things and then sleep and exhaustion came over him as he drifted into a deep sleep that lasted hours, he dreamt of many things; happy things and happy times until the nightmares came and took hold!

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The Mexican sat in the clearing as the moon shone bright overhead; Cowboy and Johnson were somewhere off to the right around thirty metres away they were talking to each other, their voices very low, every now and again a laugh could be heard as it travelled on the breeze.  The Mexican was oblivious to anything they were saying his thoughts were elsewhere; they were with the crow he replayed what the crow had seen earlier; seeing through the creature’s eyes.  The boy knew that the crow had been following him but that didn’t matter they were close now; tomorrow they would have him then all this could be put behind them and Mr Calcone would pay them what he owed.  The Mexican mumbled words; words that any normal man would not speak; they were the Devils words and when these words were spoken the Devil acted!  The Mexican had his eyes closed; he was now seeing other things; a school; children catching a school bus, a family doing things together.  The Mexican recognised the family as the one they had killed; the family that he and his partners had killed the previous day; now he was inside the boy’s dreams; inside the boy’s nightmares!

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Samson was deep in sleep tossing and turning; around him the shadows danced on the walls; the fire cackled away as the regular drips from the water landed in the pool below them.  Samson was oblivious to all the sounds as his mind saw the men killing his family once again, the replay set on continuous.  He watched the horror over and over again, a witness as the evil unfolded, a witness who was helpless to help and then he was running, running for his life!  On and on he ran through the darkness and the forest as it closed in around him, he saw eyes that glowed red, heard the loud wind, saw the faces and the features as they moved around them.  He saw a fire, watched it as it came to life, shapes on the walls began forming; dancing around him; faces looking at him; faces that changed to different forms, different features.  Spirits crept up on him watching him from directly above tickling his neck.

He was unaware of the snakes as they entered the entrance of the cave; six Rattlesnakes from various parts of the forest entered the mouth of the cave; they arrived at the same time; entering the cave as one!  En-masse they made their way into the second chamber slivering into the tunnel where they moved to the T-junction instantly taking the left turn.  They were now entering the small gap as one by one they entered the chamber; the chamber where Samson slept, caught up in his own nightmare!

 

The Killdeer Mountains; North Dakota; 23:40 local time:

 

Annawan sat beneath the cloud covered sky, the moon had long been covered by cloud, an unnatural cloud; the small fire in front of him glowed a deep blue as he chanted his ancient songs.  He closed his eyes as he continued his quiet chants; after several minutes his eyes entered a cave, he travelled through tunnels turning until he entered a large chamber; a fire burned on a ledge.  Next to the fire was a pile of logs and next to these a bed of heathers; on top of this bed was a form; a human form; a small boy lay asleep.  Six rattlesnakes slivered along the floor of the chamber; they moved slowly past the pool and across the floor; toward the sleeping boy!  Annawan spoke slowly ‘Kikta; Cicala wanji (wake-up little one)’ his voice was wise and soothing ‘Kikta; etaha lena Zuzeka Iha-ble (wake-up from these snake dreams)’ the old man puffed up his cheeks and blew gently.  Then he spoke in English ‘wake up little warrior’ with his eyes still shut tight he smiled sadly as the flames on the fire where he sat on the mountainside subsided, retreating into the fire, the fire was now just a faint glow of embers.  Annawan’s age old features looked sadly through time and space into the cave where the young boy was about to be attacked, his chanting had returned although now it was just an unrecognisable murmur!

He continued his steady chanting with his head swaying steadily from side to side, his eyes shut tight; sadness and age the only expression on his face!

 

The Rocky Mountains; 23:55 local time:

 

Samson could hear a voice in his dreams; in his nightmares, the voice was talking soothingly talking to him; instructing him; the words were foreign to him until they came in English!  Samson could recognise the voice it was the man who spoke to him the previous night in his sleep the man who told him not to fear the wolf or the bear he was talking again ‘wake up little warrior’ he whispered.  Samson’s mind was trying to establish who the man was talking too then suddenly Samson’s second voice told him he’s talking to you; wake up!

He woke with a start; dazed and still half asleep; Samson shook his head, clearing his vision; something felt strange; he could sense danger all around him.  Instinctively he rose to his feet; the shadows from the flames danced around the walls, they were alive the shadows are alive; how is this possible?  Samson caught movements along the floor?  His mind was still not quite with him as he tried to shake himself back into reality, he looked from the moving shadows on the walls back to the shapes that moved along the floor what are they suddenly he caught something in the firelight ‘snakes’ he spoke it out loud; the word echoed around the cavern.  Instinctively he reached down and grabbed his spear as one of the snakes moved toward him; Samson held the spear at arms length and stabbed at the snake.  The spear pierced the snake halfway along its body Samson pulled the spear back but the snake was still attached to the point; it writhed with pain until Samson swung the spear with both his arms.  The snake detached and went flying through the air to the far side of the cavern where it crashed into the wall killing it outright.  A second snake struck out at Samson’s leg causing Samson to leap over the fire; the snake followed in Samson’s path striking again until it landed in the hot embers; where it fought the flames to escape; its attempts were futile as the flames took hold; the snake sizzled to its death.

Another snake slivered toward him as he brandished the spear like a cosh and brought it down with all his might; the strike caught the snake at the top of its head, instantly paralysing it; Samson then stabbed it with the spear tip.  His heart was pumping like there would be no tomorrow; adrenalin flowed through his veins; another movement to his right then behind him he could hear a rattle; he turned just as the curled snake struck out!  Samson stepped sideways as the rattlesnake landed by his boot; without hesitation Samson brought his boot crashing down onto the rattlesnakes head. 

With his other boot Samson kicked into the flames; sending hot embers over the rattlesnake that approached from his front; he reached down to grab a log when something to his right shot at him quickly!  As Samson’s right hand grabbed one of the logs a Snake struck; its teeth caught onto Samson’s jacket sleeve; luckily its teeth missed his skin; but now this snake was attached to Samson’s arm sleeve.  Samson flailed his arm around in desperation trying to dislodge the snake; to loosen the snake as the other snake moved toward him!  His left arm grabbed out at another log; picking it up Samson threw it at the advancing snake catching it on its tail; the snake re-coiled backwards then shot forward as it struck through the air toward him!  In desperation Samson brought his right arm around to defend the attack; the other snake was still attached to his sleeve and just as his arm came around the snake which was attached to his sleeve released its grip.  It detached with the force of Samson’s swing it caught the other striking snake just before it impacted with Samson.  The two snakes hit each in mid flight; they flew off to the left as one both of them entwined onto each other!

Samson reached out and picked up his spear; he ran to the two snakes and stabbed through the entwined reptiles; they twitched several times until the lifeless forms went still.  Samson was breathing heavily; he looked around the cavern; the shapes from the shadows had gone; he searched the floor for further movement as he put his boot on the two dead snakes and pulled out his spear.  Samson held the spear out in front of him; looking for more of the dangerous creatures; there was no further movement, but still he was not satisfied.  One by one Samson approached the dead snakes and stabbed each one making sure that he had indeed killed them; he noticed that it was getting darker then he realised why!

‘The fire’ he barked in fear; he had kicked the embers over one of the snakes and now the fire was starting to go out, the cavern was getting darker and Samson knew if he was in darkness he would have no chance fending off another snake attack.  Quickly he grabbed some more logs and twigs and began to place them on the remains of his fire; he dropped to his knees and crouching down he blew gently at the base of the fire.  After twenty or so gentle blows the fire began to catch again, Samson let out a massive sigh; his heart was still beating heavy; his breathing began to stabilise; composure began to return and with it came ideas? 

‘Looks like we’ve got something to eat’ his voice echoed as he walked over and gathered the dead snakes, he piled them up by the pool.  His arm suddenly felt wet and itchy?  Instantly Samson pulled off the fleece jacket and inspected the inside, after this he inspected his own arm; there was something on his skin; it was in the exact same spot as the itch.  He then realised what it was ‘rattlesnake venom’ he whispered; then without any hesitation he threw the jacket into the pool and began to wash the arms of the jacket at the same time he washed the venom from his own arms.  Once he was happy that he had got rid of any evidence of rattlesnake poison he placed his jacket on the bed of heathers and moved it closer to the fire then he untied his penknife from around the end of his spear.

Before he began cooking Samson sharpened the end of the spear with his knife; just in case he had any more visitors.  Once the spear was sharp he turned his attention to the dead rattlesnakes and to his now rumbling stomach.  Samson pulled the survival book from his back pack and searched through until he came to the section ‘Animal Kills – Skinning and cooking’ as he read he would constantly glance over to the entrance of the chamber.  Step 1: Make sure your snake is dead before moving forward to the skinning stage;   be careful when handling the snake's head, as it could still contain poisonous venom. Get rid of the snakes head immediately.  Believe it or not, the decapitated head can still bite for a few hours. Be sure to wear gloves if possible when cutting and disposing of the snake's head!  Samson held up the dead snake in his hands ‘definitely dead’ his voice again echoing around the cavern as the snake flopped down in his hand; as he held it up he was cautious not to go anywhere near the head.  Step 2: Turn the snake belly up then starting at the head make an incision with a sharp knife down the stomach to its tail.  Samson followed the instructions; turning the snake belly up he pierced the spear through the snakes head and held it secure with his left hand.  Then using his right hand he pierced his penknife into the skin just below the head, surprised at how easily his blade went in.  It was tougher now as he tried to slice along the body; he stopped several times often having to revert to a sawing motion.  Eventually Samson had reached the tail; his hand was covered in blood and guts and any other rubbish from the snake’s insides; his face was turned into a ghastly expression.  Step 3: Cut through the tail meat and peel away the meat from the skin; gut your snake meat and wash it off in cold water then cut your meat into three inch slivers.  Samson completed the procedure by washing the meat in the pool again; feeling better once he had got the blood and guts from off his hands. 

Next Samson put the end of his spear into the hot part of the fire and left it heating for a minute then he used the spike; puncturing it into a piece of the meat; he held the spear above the fire; watching as the meat cooked.  After the previous escapade with the snakes Samson had no intention of going back to sleep; he had had enough sleep for one night; he felt strange almost violated!  His dreams had been visited how is that possible?  How can someone come into my dreams while I’m asleep?  The old Indian man had also come to him in his dream and warned him; there was definitely something strange about the whole event; and after what had happened it had put Samson off the notion of sleep for a long time!

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Akecheta had slept well his visions had taken him into the cave with the small boy; he had seen him defeat the snakes that had been sent to kill him.  A brave boy; a fighter; like me; perhaps we should name him Akecheta too his veins still tingled just as they had the previous day only now he sat looking into the dawn sky; the birds were alive with life; the forest a hive of activity.  It was now his turn to join them; to get him back on the move; to find the small boy and help him against this evil which had been foretold by the elders.  Akecheta rose to his feet; gathering his belongings; he put everything away in its rightful place; he looked at the fire, which was now out and pondered disposing of the remains.  Picking up a stick he scattered the remains of the fire; after he had finished you would not have known anyone had ever been there.  Slinging the rolled blanket over his shoulder he grabbed the bow and arrows and began off in the direction of the small mountain; he had seen the hawk circling in the sky off in the distance and knew it must be a sign?  A sign that he was meant to follow, of that he was most certain; it was Annawan’s hawk and Annawan had told it to guide him to show Akecheta the way; he held his hand to shield the bright sun; the hawk still circled.  Akecheta began to jog; a steady jog as he progressed quickly toward the small mountain, the tingling had returned; his heart pumped true.  So long as the blood flowed through him he would not let Annawan, his tribe or even the memory of the elders down I will fight to the very last breath; of that I promise!

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Samson had cooked all the rattlesnake meat; eating lots and also storing lots of the cooked meat in the empty crisp wrapper from the previous night’s feast.  He had no idea what time it was, it felt like he had been hiding out in the cave for days, he tried to imagine what a miner trapped underground would feel like, some were trapped for days when mineshafts collapsed.  Most often they were trapped without any food or water at least I had food and water he was glad he had eaten plenty and rested his whole body now felt refreshed.  He also knew that it must be light outside and if it were light he would have to move; move on out of his hiding place back into the open and back into danger; he swallowed perhaps I could stay here? ‘No; that’s not what you’re doing, we’re going to find help and safety!’

“You hope you are.”

He tried to block out the mocking voice; was it his own voice?  Or was it the voice of the man in the forest the one who wore the cap; the one with the scars?  Samson shook his head trying to get the thought of that man out of his mind; he hoped to God he would not see him again.

“Does he answer you; your God?  Does he tell you what to do?”

He shook his head angrily ‘stop it; stop doing this to me!’ Just ignore the voices Samson, keep doing what you’re doing and ignore the voices, you have nothing to fear from yourself, concentrate on the task in hand.  With that last thought he began crawling out of the small opening and into the dark tunnel, he left the small fire to dwindle out on itself; he crawled cautiously back towards the outside world and towards whatever fate awaited him! 

The sun shone brightly through the mouth of the cave lighting up the floor inside, the light made him squint as he looked into it God that hurts he closed them and opened them again, repeating it several times; after each time his vision began to clear.  Samson dragged his pack behind him holding the spear out in front as he climbed out of the small tunnel into the second chamber.  Standing up tall he put his arms through the rucksack straps and dusted himself down time to go he made his way cautiously to the entrance, to the daylight that waited there to greet him; his eyes began to sting as they adjusted to this new brightness.  Samson was not bothered about his eyes stinging, it felt good again to breathe the air, the clean air; once he got to the entrance he scanned the banks above and to the sides of the cave.  His eyes were drawn to the floor around the entrance; he searched the covering looking for any signs of a visitor, a feeling of relief came over him; it looked exactly as it had the previous day; undisturbed well that’s a little bit more good news! 

The heat from the sun warmed him as he placed the t-shirt back onto the top of his head tying it with the bindweed; he held the spear like a walking stick then began walking again.  His route took him downward; down the slope, twice he nearly slipped in the leaves that covered the floor; his eyes always on the lookout for snakes snakes and crows he felt a shiver go all the way down his spine, for all he knew the whole forest was against him.   A feeling deep inside told him that the one in the baseball cap was evil, that it was the man in the baseball cap who had visited his dreams I don’t fancy bumping into him again Samson shivered again.  But he was also visited by the old Indian man and Samson sensed that the Indian man was not evil, he was a good man, of that Samson was sure.  I wish I had a watch he looked up to the sun ‘what time must it be?’

The sun beat down through the canopy above, through the branches of the sugar maples with their helicopter seeds.  He could make out the odd gypsy moth on the undersides of the leaves; holding his hand above his eyes to gain a better sight advantage he looked hard there were lots of them hiding from the light.  Constant checks over his shoulder told him that he was not being followed he would also check the trees; the crow the day before had un-nerved him a little!  Still the more he travelled with no sign the better the feeling please help me ‘help me get to safety!’

He walked slowly taking in the surrounding area and also taking in the landmarks after all you never knew if you’d have to return to the same spot!  In front of him there was a tall Atlantic white cedar; it was a funny shape the trunk went up then separated into two further trunks but these created a shape; almost like a love heart.  Samson smiled at the thought the love heart tree further up along one of the branches was a yellow throated warbler; it chirped several times; again Samson smiled.  It was the first time he had smiled properly since the nightmare had begun; his path took him beneath the large tree; winged seeds covered the floor some had begun to grow into small saplings.  The warbler chirped from above; suddenly something caught Samson’s eye?

He moved closer to the tree trunk to investigate; about six feet from ground level there was a clump of fur; Samson swallowed hard ‘bears’ he whispered as he checked in every direction!  There had been many stories of bear attacks in the Rockies, but as a wildlife fan he had also watched many programmes on the television that also told how bears were not as dangerous as people thought.  Whichever the case Samson did not want to wait around and find out; it was time to leave this area behind him and quickly, there was another incline to his right.  Samson negotiated the incline quickly, once at the top he made his way down the slight slope; sideways on he slid down the slope; a bit quicker than what he intended; leaving a small cloud of dust in his wake and also a bit more noise than he would have cared for!

Once he was on the flat he began walking quickly again still using the spear as a walking stick; Samson stopped suddenly what was that?  He listened intently trying to make out the sound it’s an engine of some kind or maybe a generator? ‘That’s no generator’ his mind began its optimistic thoughts ‘It’s a car; oh my God it’s a car!’  His heart was pumping furiously; hope began to take over him it must be a road and the road will lead to safety?  Samson began moving quicker now; he had turned onto another path and was marching toward the sound; although now the sound had almost disappeared!  It did not stop him from walking toward what he knew was the route to safety; back to civilisation, to a town, to a city and to the Police where he would report those murderers and what they did; what they did to his family.  Anger began to well inside as he thought about the prospect of turning in the men who had taken away his whole life ‘I’ll show you; you’ll pay for what you did to them; you’ll see!’

'Samson' Chapter 7 'The Cave'

'Samson' written by Dean Horton

 

 

CHAPTER 7 ‘The cave’

 

 

Samson picked up a brick and threw it toward the crow but it missed and crashed into the tree trunk, the crow did not budge; it just perched motionless and still it watched, watched Samson’s every move.  His cheek muscles clenched as he crouched down to pick up another brick; he brought his arm behind him and threw the brick as hard as he could; it left his hand heading directly for the crow; Samson could tell that the throw was true, but just before impact the crow hopped along the branch.  The brick sailed past the annoying bird and crashed into another branch further along; the crow cackled again before it took to flight; leaving Samson behind, it travelled back the way they had come.

With a worried expression Samson watched the Crow disappear around the bend in the path; something about all this bothered him!  Was the bird following him?  Perhaps the bird was leading them to him?  He swallowed nervously I think it is leading them; leading them directly to me!  Any normal time that thought would have been a stupid thought but this isn’t any normal time too much had happened, too much that could not be explained and this was just another of the unexplainable events to add to the ever increasing list.  Samson was not going to hang around to find out if the crow was leading them to him; he turned and began walking briskly.  Still holding the rucksack in his hand he dropped the water bottle inside; snapped shut the straps and slung the pack over his shoulder’s I’m outta here, gotta keep moving Samson! 

Samson walked for most of the day; he had no idea of the time as he continued walking it was relentless and tiring; he would stop every half a mile and take a sip of water, always cautious not to drink too much too quickly; his book had advised against this!  After hours upon hours of walking with no sign of anything except the odd animal scurrying around here and there, Samson had to rest.  He crouched down and filled his water bottle from the stream again before putting it back into his bag; his eyes searched around for somewhere to rest up, his legs were feeling the toll from his days march.  Samson now knew how soldiers felt; for that was how he now saw himself as a soldier on the run from the enemy.  If he didn’t rest up soon the chances were that his legs would seize up and if that happened he knew he would be in deep trouble.  The clothes he wore stuck to him, clinging tight like stretch-film; he could actually feel his moist trousers rubbing between his legs; chaffing his skin.  They had been rubbing him for a while; he had constantly been putting his hand down his trousers and walking with his hand between his legs; anything to stop the rubbing feeling!  If he was still a small child his mother would have put cream down there to stop the nappy rash; but he knew his mother was not here anymore, they had taken her away, taken her life; taken his world, he was the only one left, it began to dawn on him that he would never see any of them again, Samson was alone in the world, he had no-one! 

With heartbreak Samson dropped to his knees and began to cry, tears rolled down his dirty face making lines; not so neat lines as they formed their own unsteady route, a bit like his own route that day.  The tears came heavier now as they meandered down his cheeks; he used the back of his sleeve to wipe his eyes ‘what am I going to do?’  Samson was all out of ideas; at first it had seemed great just keep walking and he would find help; but in reality it didn’t work like that he had walked for near on a whole day and most of the previous night and he had seen no-one; not one sign of anybody; his situation was hopeless.  He had not seen one footprint, not a newly made path, no signs of food wrappers that some hiker may have left; he had not heard any sound other than the local wildlife.  The only consolation he had was that he had not seen those three murderers either; so long as it stayed like that he was safe but he also knew that the moment he bumped into them again he would be done for; he did not need any second voice to tell him that!

Feeling heavy and weak he unzipped his jacket and slipping out of it he placed it on the floor by his knees; next he leant over the stream and cupping his hands he splashed water all over his face and neck, splashing it up onto his head soaking his man-made headwear.  The water was cold; but it felt wonderful to feel cold again; the heat throughout the day had been unbearable; but deep down he felt good about the fact that he had been able to bear it; he had taken the heat, he had taken the terrain ‘hell I’m still alive aren’t I’ he muttered to himself while looking at his reflection in the steady flowing water of the stream.  He lay back on the dry ground looking up into the branches overhead; he could see wasps, bees , hornets all busy flying around; busy doing their daily routines.

Something bit his neck; Samson slapped at the spot; it was a good hit he felt whatever it was squash under his hand; he pulled it away and wiped the remains of the insect on his trousers.  Samson sat up; his eyes looked along the stream where he saw mosquitoes hovering above the slow flowing water time to cover up again I think he reached out to his damp fleece and pulling an uncomfortable face he slipped his arms back inside.  It was damp and immediately it stuck to his flesh it’s either that or I get bitten; you never know what diseases those things carry!  I can’t afford to catch anything bad he zipped the damp fleece up to his neck and opened up the rucksack where he took out the last of the biscuits.  Samson munched on the last of the biscuits; folding the empty wrapper he put it in the bottom of the rucksack, he was not going to leave any sign that he had been there; so his rubbish would have to go with him; that was something else he had read in the survival book.

Evening was approaching and judging by how far the sun had moved on the mountain side that lay in front of him Samson knew he would have to find somewhere to hide before it got dark.  Last night he had had no choice but to travel in the dark but now he needed to hold up; travelling at night was dangerous, he had been lucky so far in the dark how long will my luck hold out though?  During the previous night his ankle had gone down several ruts and he had tripped over on numerous occasions no, tonight I will camp down somewhere; I need to find a safe place!  Something else bothered him the men who were chasing him were not real men; he had seen that, the coloured mans features the way they moved around his face and the way their eyes glowed red in the dark.  Samson shivered it started in the base of his spine and travelled up to his neck; he had even sensed it, that they were bad and now his senses told him that the night belonged to them and he did not like that thought; yes, last night he had been very lucky ‘tonight I’m going to rest up, then see what tomorrow brings?’

Rising to his feet he picked up the rucksack and moved off into the undergrowth leaving the path behind him; he stopped suddenly and turned, something….he could not think what?  There was something on his mind, but for the life of him he could not bring it out into the open, Samson stood motionless looking around him, and then slowly his attention fell onto the area where he had just rested.  Samson looked at the bank by the stream; the bank where he had just lay; he could make out the land disturbed from his body yes that’s it…..you can clearly see where I’ve just been laying.  Bending down he picked up a small branch and made his way to where he had lay on his back; using the branch he swept the area, very gently covering the spot where he had been with leaves and dust ‘don’t get sloppy now Samson, you’ve come too far to fall.  He stepped back several paces and crouching down he studied the spot until he was happy with his result.  Still holding the branch he walked back into the undergrowth and placed the branch in the spot he had taken it from.  All day long he had tried his best to cover his tracks; and as they had not yet found him he must have done a good job so far; his senses were very reassuring!

Samson had walked around 800 metres into the undergrowth when he came upon a large bank it stretched away before him; he looked along the bank; looking for the safest route to take, his eyes caught sight of something!  Further along the bank off to his right and halfway down the slope there was a small clump of trees; just inside this clump of trees Samson could see a hole in the bank ‘a cave!’  If it was a cave he would have to be careful that there were no signs of a wild animal; but if it was empty it would make a great place to hold up for the night.  From where he stood now the cave was hard to see so at night time it would be even harder to spot; but then a thought came to him what if there is an animal in there and it attacks you ‘I need a weapon’ he felt stupid he was being chased by three men hold on a minute they aren’t men………three things and he had not even thought about getting himself a weapon how stupid do I feel? ‘How the hell do you defend yourself unarmed?’ he muttered to himself.

Samson scanned the ground around him, looking for a stick; something long enough to make a spear; he suddenly caught sight of a piece of branch around two metres long; he walked over to the branch and picked it up.  Samson held it tightly moving it from hand to hand getting a feel for its weight; he held it above his head then above his right shoulder, he nodded to himself happy with his choice.  He reached into his pocket and withdrew his penknife; opening the knife he searched for something; but he was not sure what he was looking?  A sudden idea came to him; he undid his belt from around his waist and pulled it out from the loops; next he used the blade to cut a long thin slither of leather; once he had got the long piece he used it to bind the penknife to the end of the stick.  Now you have a weapon ‘I don’t know what good it’ll do against a gun but what the heck!’  Samson re-threaded the belt back through the loops around his waist and tightened it securely; he picked up his spear and happy with it he headed cautiously toward the cave!

Several metres from the mouth of the cave Samson stopped and waited; he called quietly ‘hey’ the floor around the entrance did not look as though it had seen any activity it looked as though nothing had been there; there were no signs of animal tracks; and definitely no sign of humans.  But still he had to be careful, you could never be too sure, Samson picked up a brick and threw it gently into the opening which was around the size of three doors; he heard the brick land with a faint thud; nothing came out!  Holding the spear in front of him like a Zulu warrior he made his way into the mouth of the cave.  Samson was prepared for something to pounce, his breathing had ceased, yet still his heart pounded on his chest plate his whole body felt anxious.  He took another step his eyes constantly scanning every inch as he walked into the gaping hole, after every step he would halt and wait for several seconds before proceeding any further.  Once he was inside he carried on a little further checking out his new home; his home for the night anyway! 

The cave was empty there was no sign of anything having been in there for a long time; Samson walked in deeper.   The entrance chamber or mouth was around six metres square then it curved off into another slightly smaller chamber; the roof went lower as he moved into this second chamber, he noticed that in this second chamber there was another mouth halfway down along the left hand wall.  This opening was small and it was quite dark now ‘Samson you idiot’ cursing himself he slipped the pack from off his back and opening one of the pockets he pulled out his torch, instantly switching it on.  The cave lit up around him he knelt down by this second hole and shone the torch inside; it looked like it travelled back quite far; almost like a tunnel.  Samson lay there for a moment considering his options did he make camp here in this second chamber or try further down the tunnel?  It would get cold later as the night came and if he made camp here in this chamber there was no-way he could make a fire; the light and the smell would draw too much attention.  But if he were to move further into the cave through the tunnel there may be somewhere further inside; somewhere safe enough for him to have a little fire and keep himself warm? 

The thought of having a little warmth won him over; he left his pack on the side by the opening and grabbing the spear and his torch he crawled into the tunnel.  On hands and knees he crawled for around sixteen to twenty metres; his direction was downward all the way, his legs ached and the last thing he needed was for them to scrape along the hard floor come on Samson keep going you can rest up later.  Shining the torch ahead he could make out a dead-end, he sighed ‘what a waste of time’ his quiet voice sounded strange as it came back at him from the slight echo inside the tunnel, he let out an exasperated sigh.  Better get back to the surface he was just about to turn back, when he noticed something out the corner of his eye as he turned, he immediately turned back into the tunnel, it was not a dead-end, the tunnel moved off in either direction it was a T-junction!  Reaching the T-junction he shone the torch in both directions, left and right ‘eanie, meanie, minie, mo, which way shall I go?’  It amazed him again how strange his voice sounded in the confines of the tunnel; he looked along each tunnel; In both directions the tunnel carried on for several metres until again they turned ‘that way’ he took the tunnel to his left it was smaller than the route to the right; but that second voice in his head told him that was the best route to go.  Besides if this way was impassable he could double back and check in the other direction!

Two metres in this left hand tributary it curved off to the right; the roof lowered considerably and Samson was now belly crawling still on a downward slope; from the light of the torch he could see that it opened up further along the small tunnel.  After six or seven metres crawling, the tunnel did open up; it opened into a larger cavern; Samson lay in the tunnel and shone the torch around the cavern; stalactites hung from the ceiling; large shapes of calcium carbonate which had formed over hundreds probably thousands of years.  Water dripped from the stalactites gradual drips every twenty or so seconds they plopped into a small pool which lay in the middle of the floor stretching to the far wall.  Shining the torch back up to the ceiling he watched the water drip from the points; a steady “plop……plop……plop” he shone the torch at the pool watching the drips ripple in neat circles as they landed one by one.  They created patterns, the sound and the patterns that were being made soothed him; he shone the torch around the cavern again, then he looked back at the pool ‘the water must go somewhere?’ his echo whispered back at him.  He shone the light to the back wall to where the cavern dropped away ‘it must disappear through there’ his voice echoed quietly around the chamber.  This was where he would hold up for the night; he could chance a fire this far in and if the men came they would not be able to reach him through that gap; he looked back the way he had come and nodded to himself yes this a good place to hide out!

‘Right Samson; we’ve got work to do, firewood and bedding’ his voice was louder, it pinged from wall to wall, encircling his body you need to be quiet in here…..come on we’ve got to get a move on before dark with that he was back in the tunnel heading back the way he had come, heading back to the surface.  Once he was back in the second cavern he took off his headwear and put it into his rucksack; he could see that it was still light outside but he needed to move quickly and gather the things he needed before night time arrived.  Once the evening arrived it would not be long before the darkness came; that thought chilled him; sending goose-bumps all over his body; the darkness would probably bring them……. come on Samson; chop, chop, you need to get a move on!

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Akecheta had long since left the cliff face behind him; he had run for most of the day and now dusk was descending; he jumped and landed on a path; stopping instantly, something had his upmost attention!  Tyre tracks and recent ones at that he crouched down and felt the track, his fingers moved over the tyre ruts with a gentle precision, the feeling in his fingertips took in every contour of the jagged earth one or two days old he had a strange feeling in his nerve endings.  Rising to his feet he jogged along the track until two hundred metres later he again stopped motionless; up ahead he could see a car strange, someone has tried to disguise it?  Someone does not want to be seen as he looked harder into the foliage he could make out the make and the colour it was an old beaten up red mustang that is the car that they came her in, he could feel the evil emanating from it.  Without a second thought he had pulled the tomahawk from his belt and the bowie knife at the same time, holding one weapon in each hand.  He could feel the evil around the place as though the men who had travelled in the car had left a poisonous smell.  Akecheta could also feel that the men were not in the immediate vicinity but still he approached the deserted car with caution his weapons raised at the ready.  He moved silently across the ground toward the waiting car.

The tomahawk was held in his left hand and raised at shoulder height ready for any attack, the bowie knife in his right hand and out to the side; he was ready.  The car was now two metres away; his eyes scanned the floor at the tracks which had been left behind, Akecheta could feel his heart rate increasing fear is good and he knew fear was an impulsive instinct; just by looking at the tracks he could tell that there had been no recent activity around the car.  With his eyes constantly scanning around the deserted area he walked cautiously around to the bonnet and pushed his hand through some of the twigs until his palm touched the metal; with his hand pressed down firmly in the middle of the bonnet cold, that’s good his eyes were now drawn to a track that led into the undergrowth.  A track that someone had tried to camouflage anybody else would have missed it, but Akecheta was a skilled tracker.  Where he lived in the old reservations he was often asked by the local law agencies to track criminals who were on the run and with a one hundred per-cent success rate his gift of tracking was never questioned.  Definitely man made he walked on past the car and up the small bank until he reached the section that had caught his attention; four or five twigs were slightly snapped someone has walked through this place.  Akecheta stared down at the floor and noticed a boot print further inside sloppy, you try and hide the car and cover your tracks then leave broken twigs and boot prints?  Without any hesitation he followed the tracks; his movements still cautious and his senses were alert; he felt primed, he was ready for anything, that tingling feeling he had felt throughout the day was still there wakatanka is with me!

Stealthily he crept along the path, he crouched down and made out another set of boot prints, he placed the tomahawk back in its sheath and gently moved his hand along the set of prints.  He closed his eyes as he felt along the indentations in the ground you wear military boots and you’re lighter than the print back there!  Rising back to his feet, his senses heightened, he began following the tracks that had been left, he noticed a clump of trees and bushes and slowly he skirted around the edge, it was like a wall of leaves but inside there was cleared area.

Still holding the knife he stepped inside at a crouch ready for an attack, but none came, the cleared area was empty, but Akecheta could feel them, knew that the men he chased had spent a considerable amount of time there, in the place where he now stood.  As he scanned the floor he could now make out three separate sets of boot prints, his thoughts took him back to his floating dream and the three men he had seen.  As he looked further along he saw two indentations in the ground and instantly knew that two of the men had slept here.  He stepped over to where the men had slept and once again he crouched down and felt the floor, as he touched the floor a shiver crept along his spine, instantly he retracted his hand, his brow creased into a frown.  Still frowning he touched the floor again, this time no shiver came; but he was still uneasy, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on why did you sleep here and why only two of you…….where did the third man go?

Akecheta left the clump of trees that had been their base and cautiously made his way back to their car, once again he scanned the surrounding area, once he was sure that he was alone and unobserved he began checking the doors on the red mustang.  The driver’s door was locked and the one behind it, he walked around the front and then onto the passenger door that too was locked, he tried the door behind it; also locked.  He reached the trunk and moved his hand to the handle he turned and was about to walk away when it popped open.  ‘Well…..how about that for luck’ he opened the trunk wider and could see a radio transmitter/receiver with satellite connection.  The instant his eyes set site on their equipment the answers to his questions came to the forefront of his mind so one of you went walkabout while the other two get in radio contact ‘ok then but where did you go?’ 

Akecheta had followed the tracks that the men had left to their hideout and was now trailing where they had gone after they had left the hideout; his guess was that they had had some kind of military training; on the whole they had done a good job of covering their tracks.  But he did not have much trouble in tracking them; it was the smell; he could smell the evil that they had left wherever they had walked, it bothered him!  Before he had carried on tracking their movements he had sabotaged their car; letting down their tyres with the help of his large bowie knife and he had also pulled the plugs off the carburettor.  Now he was using the skills that his ancestors had used; his people were expert trackers, but still he progressed with caution the last thing he wanted was to bump into his enemy not just yet anyway! 

The journey continued and now as the dusk was settling heavier his feelings told him that there was an increased atmosphere up ahead; the evil was heavier, a lot heavier; he could make out a dirt track through the trees; this track by the look had a lot more vehicle activity.  The route the three men had taken was skirting the dirt vehicle track; their path through the forest was almost parallel.  It was then that he saw it?  Up ahead through the trees and the gloom of the coming night he could make out a building; it was a cabin and as soon as his eyes set sight upon it he realised that he had found the source of the evil atmosphere they must be inside he could feel the evil weighing heavily around him; with each step forward his nerve ends tingled!

He approached the edge of the clearing stealthily; once there he skirted the perimeter of the cabin, always hidden by using the trees; his bow was now out and he had an arrow ready to fire; Akecheta was ready for the coming confrontation.  Once he had done a lap of the cabin perimeter he decided that he needed to get in close quarters; he had not seen any sign of the men he had been tracking I need to get closer, I have to see inside.  He took off the rolled up blanket and placed it on the floor at the base of a tree, then he leant up his bow and his quiver of arrows.  With tensed muscles Akecheta pulled out his tomahawk and the large bowie knife; with his weapons ready one in each hand time to go!

Akecheta sprinted toward the cabin using the cover of the large Mitsubishi Warrior parked on the gravel driveway; he rounded the parked vehicle and with four more steps was leaning against the wall of the cabin.  His heartbeat was fast, the fear had returned, he knew he was close to the evil that Annawan had sent him to confront soon you will know if you truly are the fighter he stood stone still, motionless for two minutes regulating his breathing, his eyes were closed as he gently breathed in and out, preparing himself to move.  At last he opened his eyes, his heart and his breathing were under control, he glanced along the wall.  The window which looked out from the kitchen was two metres to his right, he shuffled toward the window still aware of the evil odour that lingered around the cabin, once at the window he stealthily glanced inside the room, instantly withdrawing his head so as not to leave himself in the open empty; the room is empty.  He peered inside again this time for longer; the room was gloomy but not enough to stop him from seeing inside; from this window he could see into the lounge; again that too was empty, he swallowed nervously.  He noticed the French doors were broken and had just been pulled too, but even with an open door as an invitation Akecheta still had to check out the rest of the cabin from the outside.

Next he made his way around the timber building until he came to the bedroom window; he felt a shiver go down his spine this feels strange following the same procedure as before he glanced quickly inside then withdrew while his mind replayed what he had just seen.  Bodies…….there are bodies on the wall and the bed!  Akecheta peered in through the window once more but this time for longer; his heart sank at what he saw ‘who could do this?’  Bile rose in his throat as the evil presence hung around the cabin; he wanted to feel angry but he could not all he could find inside him was pity ‘Annawan what evil is this?  That can do these horrors!’  Still looking through the window he could see down the dark hallway that eventually led to the front door; he could see writings on the bedroom walls and on the walls that panned the hallway, words that he could not read, a language that he did not know.  There were pictures and verses; he could feel himself becoming afraid, a cold shiver slid down his spine please help me Annawan, help me fight this evil.

There were no words spoken to him but something; some force or unknown power or a kind of sixth sense was telling him to do something!  Akecheta moved his hand down to the third pouch on the old belt that was fastened around his waist, he flipped open the flap and dipped his hand inside, withdrawing his hand he pulled out a handful of yellowy powder.  Without even giving it a second thought he began skirting the outside of the cabin sprinkling the powdery substance onto the ground; as he walked he chanted words that he did not know; he was almost in a trance as he carried out the ritual; his veins tingled with each second that passed.  Once he had completed a lap of the cabin; his own mind began to come back into focus; the evil feeling that he had felt earlier had subsided.  With one last look inside the cabin he turned on his heels and headed back to where he had left his gear; as he walked he felt a saddening in his heart ‘I should bury them’ you cannot it would waste too much time; time that the white boy does not have ‘well I will have to come back and bury them’ we will see! 

After walking and running for a further two hours Akecheta decided he would rest now, darkness was now descending on the wilderness.  He hoped with all his heart that the white boy was out of harm’s way; that little feeling told him that the boy was safe for the time being perhaps it is Wakatanka that is telling me?  He gathered up some fire-wood and piled it into a small mound; he held a clump of dried bark and shrub and using a flint he created small sparks which caught the clump of dried foliage instantly.  Holding the smouldering clump in his hands he knelt down by the mound of twigs; he placed the smouldering clump inside the small opening he had left at the base of the mound of twigs.  Crouching on all fours and bowing his head down low he began to blow; a gentle but constant blow, getting right under the small smouldering cinders.  Within seconds the mound of twigs was alight; he sat cross-legged watching the fire catch; his blood still felt strange; an unusual energy had been with him all day and was still with him now.  On the floor next to his bow was a dead hare that he had caught earlier, when he had left the cabin; he pulled out his large bowie knife and skinned the hare like a professional butcher.  Once the hare had been skinned he skewered it and placed it above the fire; he would eat and rest; then in the early hours of the morning he would continue on the quest to which he had been entrusted.  ‘Tomorrow will be a long day’ he whispered to the fire; his thoughts turned to the boy tomorrow I will find him and lead him to safety of that he was sure ‘Annawan will guide me!’

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'Samson' Chapter 6 'The new recruit'

Samson written by Dean Horton

 

 

CHAPTER 6 ‘The new recruit’ 

 

The Killdeer Mountains; North Dakota 9.15 local time: 

The Blue Ford pick-up pulled to a stop, sending a cloud of dust bellowing around it; it had stopped on an old dirt track; the track looked like it had not been used for a good while.  A young Native American Indian man exited the truck, he wore a pinstripe suit his long hair tied in a bobble around the back of his head; his boyish looks made him seem early twenties where in fact his real age was thirty two.  He breathed in the air around him, smiling to himself as he closed his eyes; feeling at home in the sun and feeling at home with nature.  The driver’s side door was still open as he unbuttoned his suit jacket, folding it neatly he placed it on the headrest; next he unbuttoned his shirt and placed that on top of the jacket, every item was placed neatly, precisely and gently down one on top of the other.  The young man was now topless, his torso was immaculately tuned; his muscles rippled in the sun as he reached into the truck and pulled out a black vest; he slipped it over his head and slipped his arms one by one into the arm holes; pulling it down over his tensed stomach.  His hands went to his belt where he continued his undressing ritual, undoing the belt he pulled it free from the loops in his trousers then following this he slipped out of his trousers; he folded these and placed them with the other items on the headrest.  Reaching into the truck again he pulled out a pair of loose fitting combat shorts they were of the desert style and colour.  Once the shorts were fastened around his waist he reached into the foot-well and withdrew his hands as they clutched something.  The Indian man looked at the items he held in his hands; a pair of handmade moccasin ankle boots he placed his feet into each one and tied them firmly around his ankles.  Most people in this day and age would choose a pair of hiking boots or trainers, but the young man knew that the ankle boots he now wore were what his ancestors had chosen to wear in the current climate and terrain!  This exact type of shoe had been used by his people from generation to generation, century through century through century and he himself had been brought up in them as a child, so why change just because the modern way was different the old way is always the best way he thought to himself, contented with his choice.

The young Native American Indian man pulled out a clothes hanger and began placing his shirt and suit neatly onto the hanger, when this was complete he hung it on the handrail above the passenger seat of the pick-up.  Also on the passenger seat was a belt; on the belt hung a nine inch Bowie knife and two leather pouches; the man fastened the belt around his waist, he tied the knife holster around his thigh to stop the blade part from banging loose.  Last of all he pulled out a hydration pack which he had previously filled with water before he had drove to this deserted spot of wilderness, he popped the pack onto his back and strapped that around his waist some of the new ways are better though he smiled to himself.

Once he was kitted out he quietly closed the pick-up door and locked it using the key fob.  He walked around to the front of the truck and crouching down near the grille he reached his hand around and under the grille where he hooked the key fob onto a small hook which was impossible to see by the naked eye.  The young Indian stood up and stretched out his arms; his muscles cracked in several places; his head rolled around in small circles.  He bent over and using his palms he touched the ground several times, then rising he gently rolled his shoulders and arms.  One at a time he bought each foot up and holding it with his hand he held it into his buttock, his muscles felt loose, he nodded.  Closing his eyes tightly he breathed in deeply through his nose then he released the breath out; his mind savoured the feel of the wild, he opened his eyes and began walking; after thirty or forty metres he began to jog steadily; the gradient began to climb! 

 

The Rocky Mountains 9.45 local time: 

Samson trudged through the forest; the crow flew past his head and landed on a branch up ahead, where it waited; waited for Samson!  As Samson passed by the crow they both looked at each other; the crow’s black eyes followed him as he passed, Samson was feeling nervous, and he could feel his heart rate increasing.  Once Samson had gone around twenty metres past the crow, the bird took off into flight and flew along the path; past Samson where it again landed on a branch ten paces up ahead; it watched Samson approach; its black eyes piercing into him.  The bird was annoying him now; more like worrying him I’ll take another route; walk away from the damn bird Samson changed his course and began walking away from the crow.  As Samson walked he heard a familiar sound as the crow flew past him and landed on a branch further along the path.

Is this damn bird following me?  Something did not feel right about the bird; turning around sharply Samson began walking back on his original route; that was until the crow flew back past him again; landing further along his route, perching on a sugar maple branch, the crow cackled.  This time Samson carried on walking past the crow, his path took him right under the branch where the crow perched; where the crow perched watching him, once he was past the bird he began to run, the run became a sprint.  Samson rounded a couple of corners on the path, if that was what you could call it, it was actually more like an animal track than a path that humans had made; but still it beat trying to make his own path, Samson ran on, not hesitating to look behind.  I’ve got to get away from that bird, the sooner the better as he ran on he could feel the dryness in his throat again; it almost felt rough as though it had been rubbed with sandpaper!

 

The Killdeer Mountains; North Dakota 9.55 local time: 

The young Indian man walked into the clearing; the old man sat fifty metres away near several rocks; he sat cross-legged next to the remnants of a camp fire; his face painted.  The old man was clearly deep in thought; the young man stopped, he did not want to scare the old man; so quietly he called out ‘Annawan (chief)’ he waited for a response!

The old man opened his eyes and motioned for the young man to join him ‘heyu Akecheta (come forth Akecheta)’ he patted the floor in front of him; his voice aged and wise.

The young man named Akecheta walked to the spot in front of the old man; his eyes scanning the area around him, he could see something was wrong.  Akecheta felt nervous something inside him told him that something was not right with the old man.  The old mans painted face; the medicine bag and why had he come up here to the old place?  Perhaps Annawan is ill?  Once Akecheta was seated in front of the old man he spoke quietly and slowly; his expression concerned ‘Annawan taku-keeyas akipa (chief whatever has happened)’ the young man stared in concern at his elder, his mentor.

There was a fear in the old mans eyes as he spoke ‘Sica ye akaya ukis, ye akataha-ogle ohomni ukis (evil is upon us, its coat is around us)’ his voice was slightly croaky showing his years; he let his words sink in before he continued.  ‘Hahepi ki sugmanitu na ki tate, hahepi-ki, acaji tuwe slolye; ki cicala hanhon wayate; ye ki ken na pksape tuwe wayate? (Last night the wolfhowl and the wind, tonight…… tomorrow who knows; the young animals do not see; it’s the old and wise who see?)’

Akecheta looked confused ‘Annawan taku niye woglake un? (Chief what do you speak of?)’

There was a long pause as the old man closed his eyes; almost as if he were about to fall asleep Akecheta was worried, he was close to the old chief; he was almost like a Father ‘Annawan’ he spoke softly, concerned.

The old man opened his eyes and looked gently upon Akecheta this time when he spoke he spoke in English the words came out slowly ‘our history is dying Akecheta; I am dying; soon I will be gone and the time will come for you to take over as chief of the Sioux nation’ his smile was clearly saddened.  ‘What is left of the nation; years ago the white man took our lands; they tried to rid us of our traditions and history; but we clung on to certain things but mostly it is all forgotten.  Eventually it will all be gone the last of the Sioux will die and with him our history!’

His head shook from side to side ‘NEVER Annawan, we will never let our history be forgotten; our ancestors….will never be forgotten; why do you talk like this?’ he held out his hands pleading ‘what has happened Annawan?  Are you ill?  Have you seen doctors?  Why are you talking in riddles?’ he was starting to talk quickly, confused, afraid.

The old man reached out his hand and patted Akecheta on his knee ‘do not be afraid I am here for a while longer’ he glanced up into the sky; high above the hawk circled.  ‘There is great evil upon us Akecheta; an evil that I have trained all my life to fight and now when the time has finally come I am weak and old’ his voice was frail and quiet.

‘I do not understand; what evil do you talk about?’

The old man continued talking slowly ‘when I became chief I was warned that one day it would come; the elders had seen it; they had trained me to be prepared.  For it would be an evil that we could never comprehend; now that evil is here’ he pointed north.  ‘Last night the evil came; I have seen it, there is a boy, a white boy and the evil is chasing him, tracking him’ his expression became pained ‘the small boy has lost everything; we have to help him; we have to fight this foe; this evil, we have to do what the elders wished!’

Akecheta stiffened ‘Annawan I will go and fight this evil; I will help the boy if it is what we must do; if it is what you ask!’

Annawan smiled sadly ‘your name “Akecheta” means fighter and now I’m afraid that I am the one who has to send you to fight.  I have let you down Akecheta I should have prepared you for this; I was going to start preparing you, soon very soon but now it is too late……for now you must leave and fight this darkness’ he shook his head sadly ‘I am truly sorry for this, for what I have done to you!’

‘No Annawan, you have not let me down and I will not let you down; but I do not know what I am meant to do?’

The old man had gone quiet again; his mind was taking him to places his dreams had seen ‘do you know my real name is Catanwakuwa!’  He looked up at the circling hawk ‘it means attacking hawk’ at that he spoke again in Sioux ‘ehani hemaca wanji wakatanka (long ago I am the one great spirit)’ tilting his head backwards he extended his arm out to the side; squinting into the sunlit sky.

Akecheta watched the old mans actions; suddenly the hawk swooped down like a falling stone toward them then when it was several feet away it turned and circled around until eventually it glided in and landed on the old mans outstretched arm.  Akecheta was amazed he had never seen anything like it; he always known the old chief was wise but all this; what he had heard and what he had just seen was too much for him to take in ‘Annawan that is incredible!’

‘I will help you in other ways’ he nodded his head sullenly then turned and whispered words to the hawk then instantly the eagle took to flight.

Akecheta watched the bird fly off north toward the great Rocky Mountains, as the bird disappeared from view he turned to face his chief ‘how will I find this boy?’

‘Ki wa-maka-ska woglake na tuwe-ya niye; ki wakatanka tawaci awayaye leciya niye Akecheta (the animals will speak and guide you; the Great Spirit will watch over you Akecheta)’ the old man nodded raising his finger he tapped his temple.  ‘Niye tawaci slolye ki wowpi; econ sni un kokipe (you will know the signs; do not be afraid!)’  

 

The old chief reached behind him and pulled out a large pipe; he opened one of his pouches which hung around his waist and filled the pipe with tobacco then bringing it up to his lips he proceeded to light it with a match.  He puffed slowly as the tobacco caught alight; the chief inhaled the smoke and slowly blew it out ‘hi sota kici miye (come smoke with me)’ he passed the pipe to Akecheta.

Akecheta took the pipe from the old chief and raised it to his lips he inhaled deeply through his mouth, the smoke filtered through his lungs and it lingered around his senses as he blew it out.  Putting the pipe in his mouth he drew in again; his head began to feel drowsy; his legs and arms, no…every muscle in his body began to suddenly go weak!  ‘Ann……a……w…….a…………’ Akecheta felt like he was going to fall backwards; until he saw the ground below him!

Akecheta floated high above the ground; seeing all below him, he saw the animals, the forests, the trees and bushes; he saw a cabin, a lake and more forest.  There were bears, deer, wolves, birds, mountain lions; fish swan in the lakes; all the animals watched him as he floated around the sky, high above them!  Akecheta floated higher and higher above the earth until in the distance he saw a small boy walk into a clearing; he saw three men they were heading toward the small boy’s location although they were still around two miles away from him.  Akecheta felt as though his body and soul were cleansed, his mind told him that this was the boy he was supposed to protect; the boy Annawan had told him was in great danger; he had to move quickly if he were to save him.  But he couldn’t he was floating higher and higher, away from the boy, away from the Rockies, away from the earth.  He was in space now travelling deeper and deeper into space, he had now lost all sight of the boy and the forests; deeper and deeper he floated.  He looked upon the earth as if he himself were a star deep in the universe; as if he himself were wakatanka, the one Great Spirit what is happening to me?  Am I alive or dead?  He floated deeper and deeper into space.

Suddenly his voyage slowed his body turned and changed direction; now he began moving slowly toward earth; toward the land he knew.   Akecheta glanced over his shoulder at the universe and many galaxies he was leaving behind; a voice told him that it was not his time to go further that way!  It was a voice he knew?  It was Annawan his chief; the chief of his tribe; Annawan had entrusted him to do a task and now he began picking up speed, faster and faster he flew; like a jet plane he headed toward the ground.  In the distance he saw a highway it came closer and closer until eventually he could make out the traffic upon it.  As he moved high above the highway he could see a blue Ford pick-up; his blue ford pick-up!  But who could be driving it?  Is it stolen?  He flew quickly behind the pick-up like superman he travelled along the highway until eventually he hovered directly above his vehicle; his mind spinning and spinning……………………….! 

Akecheta’s mind suddenly came into focus; he was driving the pick-up!  Yet he had no recollection of getting back to the vehicle have I been dreaming? The last thing he could remember he was smoking the pipe with Annawan, he could remember everything they had discussed; the boy, the great evil “the animals will help you” that was the last thing he could remember!  After that his memory was gone, it was all but a dream; floating and flying above the earth how far have I travelled?  Faces came to him; the boy and the three men, for that was how many he counted; a scarred South American, a coloured man and a white man; their faces were now imprinted in his mind!  Akecheta had no idea where in the world he was; he had now been driving the pick-up for thirty minutes; thirty minutes thinking and wondering how he had got to this place, the place where he was now?  It cannot be possible for me to lose my memory for that long, the place where I was with Annawan, it was in another county and he had no recollection of anything since the pipe that he had smoked so how have I got here? A thought came to him; he had seen no sign of traffic, no sign posts even where in the world am I?

Mountains rose up on either side as he continued driving aimlessly forward, after the mountains he came upon forests.  As far as the eye could see; it was forest land and higher up the layout became rugged.  His whole body felt strange, a feeling he had never experienced before; his veins tingled as he continued driving.  If his mission was to find this boy he needed to have some idea where the boy would be but I don’t even know where I am, the boy could be anywhere?  ‘Help me Annawan, what must I do; how do I find this boy, I have seen him in dreams but that does not show me where or how I can find him’ he spoke desperately to himself, to the car.  Glancing over his shoulder he saw on the back seat of the pick-up items that did not belong to him?  Akecheta focussed on the road, with the odd quick glance at these unidentified items; he could see a bow and arrows, a tomahawk, a rolled up blanket they must have been put there by Annawan?  He still wore the clothes he had worn when he had met his chief earlier was it earlier?  I don’t even know what day it is, what kind of magic is happening to me?

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Samson rested against a tree panting; his outstretched arm holding himself steady while his lungs filled with air; the crow had gone; he pulled out his water bottle and drank several mouthfuls of the cold liquid.  The clear liquid trickled down his throat, hurting at first but as the water moistened the inside of his mouth and throat it began to sooth, he began to find it easier to swallow.  Samson felt his chest was now under control as his breathing began to return to normal, his lungs had taken their share of the muggy air that surrounded him.  He heard a sound from down the path from the direction he had just ran, slowly he peered his head around the tree-trunk.  The crow stared at him from its perched position further down the path, it cackled twice ‘oh no, not again’ Samson whispered to himself; the uneasy feeling returned, he began feeling anxious again, nervous, it was all most unusual a bit like my life at the moment…..please God let this nightmare be over I can’t take any more of this!

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What happened next had Akecheta totally bamboozled! Up ahead in the middle of the road stood a great big Stag; Akecheta slowed the pick-up and honked the horn!  The Stag was standing ten metres away from the Ford pick-up blocking the trucks route, the animal turned to face the pick-up and shook his mighty tusks in defiance; Akecheta steered the pick-up to the side of the road trying to drive around the large beast, but the Stag followed his route blocking him, stopping his progress.  What do I do now?  A distant voice drifted to him from a timeless place; it was a familiar voice, it was Annawans voice “Ki wa-maka-ska woglake na tuwe-ya niye; ki wakatanka tawaci awayaye leciya niye Akecheta (the animals will speak and guide you; the Great Spirit will watch over you Akecheta!)”  It must be a sign…..the animals will guide me?  Akecheta pulled the pick-up to the side of the road, he took a deep breath and opening the door he stepped out of the pick-up to confront his mammoth obstruction.

The Stag stood his ground as it stared at Akecheta watching him as he approached; his approach was one of caution, he knew what damage one of these animals could cause the tusks could probably pierce a man’s stomach; impaling him to die a painful death!  The Stag snorted loudly and pawed the ground with his front hoof, the whole body of the large mammal was rigid, its body all muscle, man was not this creature’s friend and why should it be, man was the hunter.  Yet here on this tarmac road the creature was communicating!  Akecheta spoke slowly and softly as he approached ‘pksape tabloka tuwe-ya miye (wise deer guide me!)’  The Stag turned on its heels and began walking slowly into the forest after ten or so steps it stopped; the beast turned to face Akecheta and snorted again several times.  It is a sign from Annawan he had heard many stories about the elders and how they communicated with the animals; nature was their friend they did not fear nature, nature was them and they were nature; they used it; they were a part of it and here and now Akecheta was part of it.  He was not afraid, his body tingled with a strange feeling he had never felt before, he was alive, his heart pumped the life around his body, and his mind was buzzing with activity just like the forest and the surrounding land.  Akecheta was proud of his ancestry; his people lived with nature and nature lived with them each of them giving back in ways the white people would never be able to understand.  The white people had taken everything but they could not take away pride and tradition that would always be there with him and what was left of his proud people as long as my blood flows our traditions shall be kept alive and when I am gone the next will take over, Annawan I will not fail you this day or the next! 

Akecheta returned to the car grabbing the blanket which hung on a rope he threw it over his shoulder; the blanket was old but clean, he could tell by the designs, It was probably an heirloom of some kind.  The blanket hung on his back just below his hydration pack which fit snugly to the shape of his back.  He reached in the pick-up again and grabbed the old hide belt which held the tomahawk he tied the belt around his waist; over his other belt which carried his own Bowie knife.  The belt which held the tomahawk was very old; made from the hide of a Buffalo which the tribe hunted many years ago; before the white man drove them away from the Great Plains; into towns, manmade towns.  Drove them away from their homeland and tried to turn them into something they were not; to educate them into the white mans ways.  There were several small pouches along the belt but he did not have the time to investigate what was inside, he could feel the impatient eyes of the Stag bearing down on him.  Next Akecheta pulled out the bow and quiver which held around twelve arrows; he threw the quiver over his shoulder then holding the bow he closed the door locking it with the key fob.  Akecheta went around to the front grille and bending down he hid his key fob again whoever put me in the truck must have watched where I hid the key before?

The Stag snorted as Akecheta turned to face him ‘ok I’m coming’ the Stag began trotting off into the forest; Akecheta jogged easily behind him; his blood tingled; his feet felt light as he moved across the ground.  Akecheta was oblivious to the heat of the summer sun as he ran behind the Stag.  He felt like his own ancestors would have felt as they hunted; Akecheta felt fuelled and proud the ancients were with him; he carried their tools, their knowledge.  As long as he breathed he would never let the Lakota Sioux ways be forgotten; even in this white man’s world that he now lived their ways were still needed; their ways were needed to fight this great evil that Annawan had told him about.  The great spirit (wakatanka) will watch over, guide me, help me of that he was sure he had seen enough this day to show him that he was at one with mother nature; Akecheta was not alone in his quest, nature was with him ‘Wakatanka is with me!’

For several miles they ran together the great Stag ran easily over the uneasy terrain, Akecheta was close on the Stags heels as they made their way through the forest, not once did either of them lose their footing.  They were together in their quest to stop the great evil that was upon them, Akecheta could make out high ground up ahead, he could see through the breaks in the trees that soon their path would come to an end!

The Stag stopped up ahead, at the foot of a cliff face; Akecheta slowed beside the great beast, the Stag lowered his antlers and twisted his head several times, it snorted twice and hoofed the ground.  Akecheta looked up the cliff face; the sun bearing down on him; his toned body rippling with sweat, he patted the Stag gently on the tip on its nose, moving his hand gently up to tap the top of its head ‘Pilamaye mahetaha mitawa tiblo (thank you from within my brother.)’ 

Akecheta tied the bow onto the blanket and leaving the stag behind he began his ascent to the top of the cliff face.  His long wet hair clung to his shoulders as he climbed; he had always been strong but now a new strength flowed through him an ancient strength he could feel the history of the Lakota Sioux within him.  Akecheta breathed the history of his tribe he felt the power of his tribe as it flowed through his very veins, pumped around by his own true heart; determination seared into his soul as he climbed the cliff face; eventually Akecheta reached the top ledge.  The ledge overhung slightly; this manoeuvre would require brute strength to let go of the face and hang three hundred metres in the air I am not afraid he did not even flinch as he dangled using his arms he pulled himself up onto the top of the ledge with ease.  Swinging his legs around in an arc motion he mounted the ledge and landed on his knees then with a quick jump up he landed on his feet.  He stood on the top of the ledge and looked out over the forests as far as the eye could see; sweat rolled down from his forehead, down his arms, down his legs; he breathed in the air.  Closing his eyes he puffed out his chest and shouted ‘hemaca Akecheta (I am Akecheta)’ he patted his chest and shouted it again ‘hemeca Akecheta’.  Birds took to flight from the treetops below; animals ran from the vicinity their noises could be heard as they bolted through the undergrowth three hundred metres below; his hearing more tuned than he had ever known it before.

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The Mexican stopped abruptly, holding his hand in the air; uncertainty filled his mind, he was unsure if he had just heard a call, a shout?  Johnson and Cowboy stared at his raised arm.

‘What is it boss’ Johnson’s Southern voice asked.

The Mexican shook his head ‘quiet’ he ordered.

Cowboy was sweeping the area with the muzzle of his Heckler and Koch, the forest suddenly felt more alive than it had done earlier ‘boss can you feel that’ he asked in a whisper.

The Mexican nodded to himself ‘it’s nothing, let’s go’ and with that he was walking again.

‘It’s the fuckin boy boss I can almost smell him…….we’re getting closer now, much closer’ Johnson began following his boss.

Cowboy stared into the forest, he swallowed ‘let’s get this shit done and get outta here……..fuckin job, I never got chance to play; and that boy is going to pay for that’ he lowered the muzzle and followed his two comrades. 

They followed the path, the path that Samson had trod earlier in the day, several times the Mexican bent down to feel the ground, at one spot he crouched and picked up a crumb, holding it out for them both to see; he smiled.  His scar was red raw as though it had been made just weeks before. 

Cowboy crouched down ‘I reckon we’re about two hours behind him boss.’

‘Two hours and closing………two hours and closing’ The Mexican smiled as he sat down on a fallen trunk that Samson had sat on earlier in the day.

Johnson looked skyward ‘we might not catch up with him tonight boss, we’ve only got a couple hours of daylight.’

The Mexican looked at Johnson with his black pools, he nodded ‘yeah, if we don’t catch up with him tonight we’ll do it tomorrow’ he smiled a smile that sent a shiver down Cowboys spine as Johnson just nodded in agreement.

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If you like Samson tell your friends so they can enjoy the horrors too!!

thanks for reading..........Dean