'Samson' chapter 15 'The storm'

                  Chapter 15 ‘The storm’

 

 

Samson came upon a rocky outcrop; quite sheltered from the elements, from where he now stood he could see way off into the distance and what he saw didn’t make him too keen!  Not only could he see no sign of roads or towns but the sky was black; way off in the distance a large black mass was gathering.  Samson sighed there’s a storm coming by the looks of things; that’s just what I need he looked around and decided to put himself under the rocky outcrop just over to his left he could stay sheltered and dry from there.  He hoped that the storm would only last the night; he did not fancy travelling around the next day if the rain was too bad you’ve got to make it through the night first.  A shiver travelled down his spine at the thought of yet another night alone and afraid with only the demons of his nightmares to keep him company! 

His back rested against the rock as Samson sat snuggled up in the patterned woollen blanket; he had it wrapped around his head, shoulders and back holding the edges in his hands just under his chin.  The sky above him was dark now although night-time was not yet upon the Rocky Mountains, the rainclouds loomed large overhead as far as he could see there was black cloud; thick black cloud; off in the distance he heard a rumble.  The birds had long since gone silent along with the other animals who like Samson were all now sheltered from the oncoming storm; silence had descended upon the landscape; another rumble this one lasting several seconds.  Off in the distance a lightening bolt lit up the sky as it forked its way out from the thick black cloud toward the tree-line below, then another rumble this one lasting around twenty or so seconds.  A breeze came around the mountain; Samson watched the trees as they swayed throughout the forest; it was a hectic wind blowing up around him.   As the breeze blew past him Samson was reminded of the night when the wind chased him through the forest I wonder if they are making the storm come?  He prayed that they like him were holed up somewhere sheltered away from the coming weather front knowing my luck they’ll carry on marching throughout it and find me!  The breeze now died down as another longer rumble rolled through the sky directly above him; then more bolts of lightening; Samson was glad that the lightening had not yet reached him.

            Rain began to fall; a heavy fast rain that would hurt if they hit him, the droplets easily distinguishable due to their size; he pulled the blanket in closer under his chin as the rain came down faster; a lightning bolt lit up the mountain; the storm was now directly over head; Samson shivered hard as the night started to descend.  The rain lashed down on the mountainside as the sky above rumbled and lit, he saw one bolt of lightning shoot into the trees; then smoke rose as half the tree disappeared into the forest below.  It was a maelstrom of power that now battled overhead, the elements against the land as lightning bolt after lightning bolt shot from the sky; they forked and shot out into the forest.  Trees disappeared from view in various parts and then the darkness was upon him; the furthest Samson could see was around two metres as the rain and the darkness combined made it impossible to see any further.  Thunder rumbled all around, the noise deafening, Samson feared for his life, he was in the middle of the biggest storm he had ever seen, he wondered if the cabin would stay intact.  The storm raged on with its ferocious onslaught!

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            The Mexican sat huddled in the cave entrance where he had spent the previous night; his thoughts were on the old Indian man he had seen on the mountain the night before; things were not going to plan, first Cowboy and now Johnson.  His scar began to glow a red raw colour as he stared into his large fire; he glanced out into the rain as it lashed its fury on the forest outside the cave; the boy could wait until tomorrow, after all where could he go?  The boy’s options were limited there was forest and more forest where he was heading; he had seen through the eyes of the cougar……..if the Mexican didn’t get him the cougar would; he smiled, a smile that consisted of hatred and knowing, it was a deadly and deathly smile, his eyes glowed red!

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            Akecheta could see the sky turning darker by the minute, bad weather was about to descend upon him; the hawk had already left him to find its own shelter and safety, and now it was his turn to get himself out of the weather; he hoped; no, he prayed the boy had the sense not to light a fire!  Now he walked unsteadily through the forest looking for a place to hold up in the dry; then the first of the rain came.  It began to spit; very slow drops of water began landing all around as he trudged wearily over the uneven floor; his head still not feeling upto any kind of physical exertion, pains prodded and pinched every inch of his body.  The wildlife had deserted the forest now, all sound of the local residents had long since deceased; they knew what nature was about to unleash and Akecheta felt it too!  A pain shot through his skull making him wince, he stopped still, closing his eyes tightly he raised his head skywards, letting the rain which was starting to come faster wash over his face.  Rumbles above him as the rain began to come heavier now; his long hair clung to his face and neck as he continued walking unsteadily forward; lightning forked out from high above, lighting up the forest around him  I have to get to somewhere safe and dry!

            With slow dragging legs he desperately searched his surroundings for somewhere to rest up; but the part of the forest he now walked was a mass of juniper trees giving little shelter from the current onslaught.  Still Akecheta marched on solemnly as the rain pounded every inch of his flesh; he was oblivious to it all; his body still in shock from his earlier fight with the river; he knew he was lucky to escape death, was it luck or was it fate?  There was no movement as he made his way through the thick terrain all wildlife had now sheltered up away from the monstrous storm that had engulfed the Rockies.  Akecheta stumbled over an upturned root causing him to fall heavily into the base of one of the juniper trees; his shoulder took most of the hit as he winced in pain I can’t keep this up, I’ll die if I don’t find somewhere to rest and get dry.  His head throbbed as he crawled into a crouching position; he rested on all fours while the rain pounded his back through the breaks in the canopy above him.  After several minutes he pulled himself up the tree trunk and leant unsteadily against the trunk of the tree; he felt nauseous as his body swayed, he felt weak and most of all he felt tired; twice his knees nearly buckled from under him as he continued swaying back and forth on his shattered and unsteady legs; his shoulder now ached along with the rest of his body.  It was no good he had to start moving again!

            Step after unsteady step he walked; the rain relentlessly pounding him from above; the wind fighting his every movement; thunder rolled through the sky above like a God shouting at everything below, lightning forked out again hitting a tree off to Akecheta’s right.  The top half of the tree was virtually split in two until it reached halfway down its trunk causing it to fall in two directions; one away from Akecheta and the other was now falling directly onto him.  He had seen the lightning hit the tree from the corner of his eye; the force that it generated was incredible; now though he watched in horror as half the tree began falling toward him!

              His whole body was beaten but somehow he managed to summon enough energy to stagger from the path of the falling juniper as it crashed loudly onto the ground missing Akecheta by inches.  The tree hit the floor with so much force that the tree actually bounced back up several feet before settling on the ground where it would eventually rot and become a breeding ground for the local insect community.  His eyes began to glaze from his quick burst of movement; he closed them tight fighting the urge to feint stay with it, come on, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 breathe, deep breaths; help me Annawan; help me please!  Akecheta fell to the floor in a heap; he was beaten, the battle with the river had finally caught up with him; now he slept!

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   The Killdeer Mountains; North Dakota; 2100 local time: 

Annawan sat next to his small fire his eyes were closed tight, sadness and concern filled his features; his hands rested in his lap with his fingers locked tightly together.  Now he opened his eyes and looked into the fire; he pushed his hands out in front of himself and separating them he parted the flames in the fire!  The flames now rose around an unseen obstacle as he now saw the form of Akecheta lying unconscious on the forest floor; rain lashing down around him, the floor now a mushy quagmire of mud; next to his unconscious form was a fallen tree, beneath the tree were some small shrubs, flattened from the weight.  Annawan closed his eyes again ‘Anogopta ekta ki nigetakiya un ki makoce, ekta mitawa nigetakiya, ozil tankal na wote ohitike tiblo (listen to the voice of the land, to my voice, reach out and eat brave brother)!’

            Movement could be seen under his closed eyelids as he sat there with his arms held out limply to his sides, palms facing upwards; his withered face carried no expression as his mind zoned in to Akecheta’s!  Annawan watched through his mind as it travelled to where his young brave lay helpless, he watched as slowly Akecheta’s arm stretched out; his fingers reaching out to the plants that lay withered at his arms distance.

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The Rocky Mountains 21:20 local time:

 

Akechata’s mind drifted off to places he had never seen; he saw pyramids and walls; great long walls that spanned the lengths of a country; he saw forests and different types of people, different tribes as they gathered and went about their daily routines.  He watched as children walked to school in cities and towns, happiness was all around him as he saw fathers and mothers playing with their children.  Suddenly darkness loomed overhead!  Now he saw children running as people, evil people grabbed out at them, he watched as women walked down city streets, strangers jumped out upon them, attacking them, mugging them!  His whole mind and soul twisted and turned; he was helpless to help any of them; gangs robbed cars and attacked the elderly; their faces contorted into anger and rage, men running off with young children under their arms……..Akecheta saw hell; it made him weep as he lay there in the dirt unconscious; oblivious to everything that was going on in the forest around him; to the onslaught that the forest faced from the torrential weather front that shouted, attacked and whipped up all below!

            A force that was unseen took control of his arms as his soul left his body and drifted up above the trees; he watched his own arms as they reached out; his fingers crawling through the mud, one at a time until they caught hold of leaves.  His fingers grabbed at them and then pulled, as they came free from their small twigs, his hand moved toward his mouth, his fingers gently placing the leaves inside his dry mouth and then he began to chew.  One after another his fingers placed the leaves inside his mouth and one after another Akecheta chewed on them until he could chew no more then he swallowed them!

            Energy filled his body until eventually his soul drifted back towards its shell; towards its home; toward the vessel it used every day, every day until the one day when it would leave its shell and go on its journey to be with his ancestors.  But that day was not today, today his life and soul were needed, needed by a boy, a boy running from hell itself…….once again he was whole as his soul entered himself.  With a jolting movement his whole body inched from the damp floor of the forest; his lungs fought for breath.  Words drifted to him ‘unkis wacin niye Akecheta; niye wacin ekta kikta, tohatu mos-ognake sni ape tuweni (we need you Akecheta; you need to wake, time can not wait for no-one).  Akecheta jolted from the sodden ground once again, this time his breathing began to return, with every breath it slowly became more under control.  He breathed in the life as the humid forest air filled his lungs; his chest rising and falling in heavy beats.  The smell of damp earth filled his nostrils; as the muddy floor grabbed at his shoulders, sucking him under.

His hand reached down into one of the remaining pouches on his belt, with his fingers working their way inside until like a pincer his fingers pinched some of the dusty contents.  Now he brought his hands up to his nose and he sniffed deeply, breathing in the dusty vapour; his whole body shivered from his head right down to his toes; every sinew trembled, every muscle began to spasm; his blood came alive; his heart pumping its load around his body.  Energy grew from deep within his core as every muscle in his body began to tense; his fists clenched tight; his thighs and calf muscles stiffened like the branches of a tree; his eyes shot open as he looked upwards to the dark sky which now loomed above him.  Akecheta rose to his feet; he was a warrior; he was “the warrior” as he took in his surroundings how long have I been out?  What has happened to the boy, Samson? With renewed vigour he began walking in a northern direction toward the mountain which looked out on the forest below; Akecheta remembered telling the Samson to head toward the mountain and now he hoped that the boy had done what he had been told? 

The rain lashed down around him as he walked through the muddy forest; his feet slid and squelched as he moved forward, his progress slow and steady; the last thing he needed was to fall and knock himself out again, a voice inside him told him the weather was the work of the evil spirits.  Now as he walked he thought back to the day’s events, first there had been three of them and now it was down to one, one man between him and the boy except they aren’t men he remembered the coloured mans face and how it had twisted and contorted!  It just isn’t possible and the one in the baseball cap……that man, no; that thing is, pure evil!  He remembered the confrontation earlier, as the baseball capped man had walked into the field to face Akecheta, they looked at each other!  The moment their eyes locked on to each other Akecheta had felt the evil emanating from the man’s every gesture; his every step and Akecheta knew that the man in the baseball cap had sensed his fear; Akecheta swallowed as he walked on.  There are some things that are certain in life and one of those things Akecheta knew…..he was going to die in the hands of the Devil?

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Samson sat huddling under the patterned blanket; his eyes were shut tight as he listened to the sound of the rain that pelted the mountainside; his whole body shivered I need to lie down!  With that thought he lowered his shivering body onto the cold rock as the thunder and lightening clapped and bolted overhead; in all his life he had never witnessed anything as ferocious as the storm which battled with the land below.  His mind drifted as he thought back to his old history lessons when he had studied the Greeks and their Gods and now he thought that “Thor” was in the sky throwing his might on all below; his wield as he swung his mighty hammer was relentless, there was no let up; Samson shivered some more.  He tried desperately to drift into sleep; to put his mind into some kind of safe place but the noise from the sky above him was deafening I wish I had my I-pod he tried to think of a song, any song so long as it would take his mind off everything that was going on around him.  He began humming then it turned into singing ‘yoow….. yoow….. yoow….. whoo whoo… whoo whoo… whoo whoo….please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste, I’ve been around for a long, long year, stole many a man’s soul and faith!’  No-way that’s too weird…Samson remembered his Father would love the “Rolling Stones” especially the song he now found himself singing “Sympathy for The Devil” the song now seemed so appropriate, but he just wanted to forget his predicament even if for a short time; but, still he found himself singing it word for word!  ‘Made damn sure the Pilate; washed his hands and sealed his fate…….pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name.’ 

Thunder clapped above him but Samson was deep in song ‘pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name’ lightening forked around the side of the mountain; Samson opened his one eye and spotted part of a tree in the near forest fall to the floor.  ‘I shouted out who killed the Kennedys’ when after all it was you and me, let me please introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste.  I laid traps for troubadours’ who get killed before they reached Bombay……pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name, but what’s puzzling you is the nature of my game!’  Samson stopped singing what is the nature of his game? What were the next lines?  He thought back to Sunday afternoons as the music filled the house.  ‘Just as every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners saints, as heads is tails just call me Lucifer cause I’m in need of some restraint.  So if you meet me have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste, give all your well learned politesse or I’ll lay your soul to waste!’  Is that who’s after me “Lucifer”?  Could it be that simple?  Just like in the song; that the man who was chasing him had been around throughout the different times, the different ages; perhaps for all time?  Perhaps he too had stole many a man’s soul and faith?

He did not intend to show the man in the baseball cap any courtesy; he prayed that they never again would come face to face with each other but if we do what can I do; the man intends to kill me ‘he’s no man and you know it, he’s the Devil……he’s Lucifer’ don’t be ridiculous ‘well if he isn’t he’s something other than a man and I have to get as far from him, no “it” as possible!’  The cold of night had come and although Samson still had some of his waterproof matches he had no intention of using them; instead he just lay cuddled up under the blanket that the Indian brave had given to him.  With his eyes now closed again he tried to force himself into sleep, but none came, he tried counting sheep in his mind, but each thought turned to the days since he had been in the mountains.  It had all started so different; the holiday, his family; he thought back to his last memories of his family as they all sat around the table eating…..then he was standing outside the cabin watching as the three things attacked his family!  With his thoughts returned to the scene of his nightmare Samson fell into sleep. 

Samson woke with a start; it was quiet, the storm had gone, he sat bolt upright, the blanket fell from around him how long have I been asleep?  He could tell it was early hours of the morning, the birds were busy at work, their chorus now deafening from the canopy which stretched away from the base of the mountain.  Apart from the ground being wet there was no trace of a rain cloud in the sky so quickly it came and so quickly it disappeared ‘I have to start moving, it’s not safe here’ it’s not safe anywhere! Samson swung round onto his knees and began to roll the damp blanket into a neat bundle, he tied the blanket and swinging it onto his shoulder he stood eagerly.  His clothes felt cold and damp; but he realised that he wasn’t actually wet as he patted himself down.  Samson took one last look around him then started off walking around the side of the slope where he had spent the previous night.

 

'Samson' Chapter 14 'Run.......now'

Chapter 14 ‘Run…….now’

 

 

The sickness subsided as he spat out the remnants from within his throat; he could still feel his throat thick with mucus when he caught a movement out the corner of his eye.  Without any hesitation his attention was drawn to the movement; his face now concentrated on the forest where he had just seen something move!  A man entered the meadow, he wore combat trousers and was topless even from this distance his scarred torso could be seen; on his head he wore a red baseball cap.  Akecheta knew instantly who the man was; he looked around the meadow and nodded to himself this is a good place to die…a good day to die!

The Mexican came into the meadow; his walk oozed confidence; Akecheta moved his hand down to his leg to the hilt of the Bowie knife; his palm felt the hilt, then it tightened itself around the handle.  He breathed in deeply through his nose, the Mexican was around two hundred metres away, even from that distance Akecheta could see the scar around his neck and the one which ran down his eye and onto his cheek; his whole torso was full of scars what kind of battles has this man fought?  The Mexican continued walking toward the middle of the meadow as Akecheta waited for his death yes this is a good place to die!

Without any warning Akecheta was back on the ridge there were no buffalo anymore they had all disappeared into nothingness; the plains were empty, now it was just Akecheta and Annawan, it all seemed like slow motion.  Annawan’s face seemed older than he remembered; his wrinkles more prominent he looked into Akecheta’s eyes ‘Watohanl Unkis Iyayekiya Kize Acajt (sometimes we runaway and fight tomorrow).’

Akecheta was afraid but his honour and his tribal history were within his thoughts ‘Hemaca Sni Kokipe Annawan (I am not afraid my chief).’

Annawan nodded sadly ‘Yaye Wana Kiya Ohasko Kize Acajt Nistuste Kici Nitawa Oyate Kice Miye (go now; fly quick, fight tomorrow; run for your people, for me).’

Everything had disappeared Akecheta was back in the meadow staring at his advancing foe; evil emanated from his stature as he moved through the ankle length grass what kind of devil is this man?  Akecheta had to get away; there was no dishonour in running; Annawan had told him too; fight tomorrow were his words and perhaps they were wise words perhaps this was not the right time to fight, perhaps Akecheta was not ready and the warning was serious?  His hand released its grip on the hilt of the Bowie knife; he turned and began sprinting away from the advancing Mexican; his mind was made up he would fight tomorrow; now he would run for his life, for his whole being depended on it!

With legs as light as feathers he crossed the meadow without once looking behind him at one point he had thought that the Mexican was right on his tail; but then the feeling had disappeared.  He reached the undergrowth on the other side instantly disappearing into the greenery; once inside he chanced a look behind; he could see the Mexican standing above the shard remains of his demonic ally.  His face full with rage and intent he began running toward the forest; toward Akecheta, who turned on the spot instantly and began running through the forest, through the thick undergrowth as though the hounds of hell were hard on his heels for that was the reality, they were…..Akecheta was being chased by the Devil himself!  Now was not the time for thinking, now was not the time for fighting, now was the time for running and Akecheta now ran for his life, just like Samson the boy he had been sent to protect.  But now it was all for nothing it was a hopeless situation, the devil was running on the air of corruption, on the air of everything evil, its ally was pain and fear; the fear which now emanated from Akecheta.

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Samson ran and ran following the hawk which flew high above the tree-line, every now and again he would lose sight of the majestic bird but then it would reappear through one the breaks in the canopy overhead.  He heard shots in the distance and knew instantly that his new friend was dead, he had not seen any gun on the Indian named Akecheta; Samson was on his own again, running for his life, for survival, for hope and goodness.  The mountain that Akecheta had told him to head toward was looming overhead; he wondered how far he had actually run since he had left his new found friend?  The leaves he had eaten had given him a real good energy boost as he progressed quickly through the forest; jumping logs and landing with ease and with a start he was off again; running, stopping and running again.  His thoughts eventually turned to all the people he had lost over the last three days three days, is that all it’s been?  Seems like so much longer his mind went through the process of working out the first night they came to the cabin, the second night I was in the cave and then again last night I spent it in the cave ‘yes three nights’ he whispered through gritted teeth as he continued forwards.  Three nights since you first saw these evil men and since then everyone you’ve known or met has ended up being killed, first Mom, Dad and Candice then the old couple in the campervan and now the Indian named Akecheta ‘you’re a dangerous person to know Samson Baker!’ he panted.

The hawk was ever present in the skies above as Samson ran and ran toward the looming mountain; soon the forest and the mountain would merge into one.  Samson prayed that his new friend and ally had died quickly and although he thought it was perhaps a bit selfish he also prayed that Akecheta had bought him a little time?  Although the sun shone brightly above Samson realised that evening was not too far away where will I sleep tonight? Without even realising it he had reached the mountain and was now manoeuvring up the gradient which was now fairly rocky and sparse; pebbles and dusty sand moved under his feet as he moved upwards and sideways on.  Samson had already made up his mind to skirt around the base then move higher; if he could get high enough he could probably see how the landscape faired in the distance!  This would give him an idea of the best direction to head; he may even see a road or even a town; his hopes were slowly rising again, Samson felt he could maybe see an end to his nightmare?

The hawk had now disappeared as Samson carried on his gradual march and climb; his arms and head burned from the heat of the sun making him unsure on whether to take off his t-shirt and wrap it around his head again?  Common sense then told him that his back would burn; it did not matter what he did something would burn; he decided to pull the neck of the t-shirt over his head but still keeping the t-shirt on his body; that way only the small of his back would be exposed!  The hope he felt earlier was beginning to subside as he moved slowly around the mountain; his feet sliding several times, causing him to fall onto his side more damn bruises and scrapes!  Samson cursed himself for leaving everything behind, he had no water, no coat, no torch anymore, no food, no rucksack, it was all gone, all his possessions in the world were what he had on him; boots, socks, pants and trousers and a soaking wet t-shirt and the rolled up blanket that Akecheta had given him………..and the pouch that he had also been given! At least he would not be so cold tonight; the blanket would come in quite handy of that he was one hundred per cent certain. 

Step after relentless step he plodded forward; not even realising that he was crying.  He now walked unsteadily; wearily his whole body was beaten, the pain he felt from bruises, blisters and aches was now beginning to wear him down; his morale dipping severely; hope had deserted him and most of all he was feeling like God had deserted him.  His throat was dry again, every breath he took burned his trachea; his throat pleaded with him to give it water but again he had left that behind ‘stupid, stupid, STUPID!’  He cursed hoarsely, Samson slipped again this time he landed on his funny bone the feeling that shot down his arms made him want to vomit as he rolled about on the dusty slope, the pebbles burning his naked back.  The sun beat down on his face as he closed his eyes and just lay there motionless on his back; Samson wanted his world to end; he was beaten; he was defeated ‘just take me’ he whispered to nothing and no-one. 

When Samson next opened his eyes it was dusk as the sky now began turning to night; how long he had been asleep he had no idea but although he could feel blisters around his lips and his face felt like a radiator he at last felt a little more refreshed.  The sleep had done him well, now he needed to start walking again what if they’ve caught up with me?  It was too late now he had already slept if they were out there watching him they would have taken him, so he figured that it was common sense to say he was still on the run?

Samson decided to carry on walking now that he had rested; he would walk until it was too dark to see anymore then he would hold up wherever he found himself, wrap him up in the patterned woollen blanket and continue in the morning.  He stared hard down the two hundred metres he had climbed; looking for a sign that they were there, but he could see no sign of anything; he looked skywards for the hawk but that too had deserted him; he was on his own again as dusk began to settle!  Yep Samson we’re on our own again just me and me!

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The Mexican screamed a deathly scream then began running through the meadow; like hell was pushing him forward; Akecheta had already turned and was now sprinting faster and faster, he could hear the wind on his tails as he ran.  Jumping over rocks and boulders he felt that he could feel the Mexicans breath on his neck as he progressed through the undergrowth; branches snapped behind him.  Still Akecheta ran and ran and still the sounds of his adversary were gaining; now he landed on a path and began running un-obstructed for around seven hundred metres, never once chancing a look behind.  There was no need to look over his shoulder he could hear that the Mexican Devil was only now twenty metres behind him; up ahead Akecheta made out a drop; there was a loud sound from below the drop?  With each step Akecheta knew what the cause of the sound was; he would soon be at the river; if he stopped he was done for; there was no way he could fight the Mexican, not yet.  Annawan had told him not to fight yet and there must have been a reason; fear egged him on encouraging him to run even faster than he already was; but still the sound of the Mexican was gaining!

On and on he ran rounding corner after corner until he saw the river flowing off into the distance; it was white water now that blocked his route as he approached the drop; his pace never let up as he reached the drop; once he reached the tipping point he jumped.  Leaping the seven metre plunge; there were rocks everywhere below him as he descended downwards toward his doom!

The Mexican now reached the edge of the drop and stopped instantly watching the Indian as he plummeted to his certain death; he saw his initial landing; just missing a large rock; his body was then taken by the current.  The Mexican watched smiling to himself as the Indian crashed into rock after rock; parts of the rapids began turning red from blood as the Indian was swept away floating, then sinking in the current.  With a laugh he watched the Indians body disappear down the river; his attention was now drawn back to the boy, time to go hunting again; he glanced upwards into the sky, night time was nearly here, he walked off back into the forest. 

Akecheta was in the hands of the Gods as he plummeted toward the water below; the rocks were everywhere as he landed feet first in the rapidly flowing river; his landing just missing a large rock.  The current grabbed him and threw him into a curved rock just below the surface; the impact had the wind pushed from his body, he was then thrown into another rock.  Then the current had him spinning; his head connected with a jagged piece of rock; its sharp shards pierced his scalp as he struggled to breath; struggled to regain some control.  His eyes were full of blood and the froth from the rapids as he tried to keep his head above the water.  Then the current took him toward another large group of rocks; this time he managed to turn his body so his legs took the impact of the first one; his body twisted as his back hit the second.

The second impact had him; his back took the first blow then his head the second; Akecheta was unconscious; luckily he was now flowing through the rapids on his back; missing all the rocks by inches.  The current dragged him through rapid after rapid toward the calmer water which waited further down the river; Akecheta’s unconscious body breathed all the air it could, as he drifted around bend after bend.  After he had travelled about a kilometre in distance the current pushed him into a small pebbled cove where his unconscious body came to rest; blood ran from the wound on his forehead and from the cuts on his legs and back.  He lay there for some fifty minutes; his back resting on the pebbles while his legs still bobbed in the shallow water.

His mind began to come into focus as he felt something tapping at the side of his face; the tapping slow at first then it became a slight soft nudge!  Eventually his eyes opened into piercing sunshine, instantly closing them again.  He could still feel the tapping and opened them more cautiously now as his sight tried to readjust itself.  Everything seemed hazy until gradually his sight began to regain its focus; he could see the last of the sunshine as it began disappearing over the tree covered hillside, something tapped at him again!  Akecheta turned his head slightly wincing at the pain as it shot through his skull; next to him stood the Harris hawk that he had followed over the last few days ‘hello my friend’ he mumbled as he tried to roll onto his side.

His body was battered black and blue under his tanned skin; he dragged himself up on to his front and struggled to pull himself onto his knees, the pain shot through every inch of his body as his eyes clouded over.  Akecheta rested in the kneeling position, closing his eyes against the oncoming dizziness that was forming inside his brain; he rocked slightly willing his senses to come back.  After what seemed like an eternity he began to regain some composure; his eyes opened once more, he waited for the blurriness to return but luckily none came; he nodded to himself and let out an enormous sigh ‘that was close my friend’ he spoke to the hawk that stood watching him.  The cut on his forehead had stopped bleeding and now his face was a masse of bloodied stains, he dragged himself back into the water and splashed cold water over his face and body, careful so as not to touch his cut, he did not want to start it bleeding again.  He took off his vest and looked down at his battered torso; soaking his vest in the river he now used it as a sponge and wiped himself over; once he felt refreshed again he pulled himself up onto his feet, letting out another weary sigh.  The hawk hopped off on to a nearby rock where it continued to watch Akecheta; it let out a caw; Akecheta smiled at the hawk ‘well my friend we need to start back on our journey; the hawk cawed again turning its head to look at the setting sun.  ‘Perhaps you are right; we should rest up and start again early in the morning’ Annawan will watch over the boy, he will protect him tonight ‘I hope you can help me find him again in the morning’ the hawk cawed again.

*          *          *          *          *

'Samson' Chapter 13 'Trust in me'

Chapter 13 ‘Trust in me’

 

 

            Samson’s head crashed into an obstruction; he screamed out in pain as the blood ran down his face and into his eyes.

 ‘I’m coming for ya boy’ the voice wasn’t human; it was deep and loud and kind of guttural!

Instantly Samson struck the match trying to see what the obstruction was!  His head had hit a dead end but then he saw that the tunnel turned to his right; Samson was on his way again, he was now on his feet holding the match outstretched in front of him; moving faster now than before.  Still he could hear his pursuer or was it both of them?  The blood trickled down his eye-line, stinging his eyes as he tried to blink it away then it trickled down his cheek where it followed its pathway down his neck; he felt nauseous as he moved forward; then the match gave out!

Without any hesitation Samson pulled another match from the box and struck it instantly, lighting up his path once again, it enabled him to see several metres in front as the noise followed from behind oh my god he’s nearly with me!  He could hear it, its excitement as it closed in on him!

                           *          *          *          *          *

 

Akecheta was following the Hawk again, he had ran through the forest slopes out of view of the Harris hawk; until the ground opened up; the trees were much sparser, the terrain more mountainous.  He could hear the river away to his left; some inner voice guided him toward the sound his thoughts were that the hawk must also be listening to its own inner voice; Akecheta and nature together as one!  As he ran toward the sound of the fast flowing water he could see a cliff in the distance from where the sound of the water was originating; he ran toward the cliff.  His senses told him that there was danger up ahead that is where I’m heading into danger; don’t worry little boy I’m on my way!

                           *          *          *          *          *

 

Samson lit another match followed by another, running as quickly as he could trying to cup the light in his hands as he continued forward; the scurrying from behind was getting closer!  Laughing trailed behind him; a ghoulish deep laugh a mocking laugh an evil laugh; it was getting closer; closing in on him, Samson ran on pleading with God not to let the light go out on him.  There was a faint noise up ahead; despair began to rise from within; he was being cut off; the laughing was now only ten metres behind him.  Samson was going to die they would attack him from two directions he was done; but still he ran toward this new sound!  Suddenly he realised that he was slowly able to see better; then he realised with hope, a desperate hope that began fuelling him on; Samson was running toward light, daylight?  Samson threw the match to the floor and clutching the spear tighter he ran down the tunnel toward the source of the light; he turned left then within six metres he was out of the network of tunnels and in the outside world.  Samson’s eyes were blinded by the sun as he stepped warily out onto a small ledge; the ledge was big enough for around four people to stand and was about twenty five metres above a fast flowing river.  His eyes were fighting to regain their correct train of sight as he scanned his new environment; his initial thought was to jump; take his chances and jump into the fast flowing river but he could make out rocky areas below him in the white water current, that swirled rapidly around the base of the cliff face.

Samson could hear the footsteps approaching from behind they were nearly on him; glancing either side of the ledge where he stood he noticed a short shelf which branched away to his left.  Instinctively he stepped onto the shelf which was around 300mm wide, his back against the rock he shuffled along sideways; away from the ledge where he had just stood, using his left arm to guide him and hold him steady he shuffled away from his pursuer.  His right hand was still holding the man-made spear as the large coloured man appeared from the hole in the Cliffside, stopping just before the edge of the ledge; his face contorted with rage.  Samson was doomed the coloured man now stepped onto the small shelf where Samson was already inching his way along; the coloured man began to shuffle after his prey; with fast careful steps. Samson moved sideways his small shuffling steps carried him further along the shelf and away from the chasing man and the ledge where they had both previously found themselves standing.  Another glance along the shelf told Samson that he would soon be out of rock to walk along; hope ebbed away from him as he glanced to the forest away to his left so close and yet so far away!

The shelf was narrower now but still he moved cautiously along until eventually his shuffling left boot tapped onto thin air; he was done for, this was the end, Samson had nowhere to go!

  Think……you’ve got to do something somehow he had to keep the large coloured man away from him, keep him at arms length; but how?  ‘The spear; use the spear; please God help me’ he whispered as he prodded along the shelf with the spear; his eyes were shut tight as he prodded blindly toward his enemy.

‘Put the fuckin stick down boy’ it was a deep nasty and angry voice, but still there was a hint of a southern accent.

‘Leave me alone’ he prodded again blindly.

‘You gonna die you little fuckin pin prick’ rage, anger and fury now.

Samson felt a pressure on the end of the spear; the man had grabbed hold of it; Samson opened his eyes; instantly he was drawn to look into the coloured man’s red eyes.  His features moving around his face; underneath his face was that of some kind of demon ‘please God help me’ he tugged on the spear trying to tug it away from the coloured mans grip.

‘Fuckin God; your fuckin God can’t do nothing for ya boy’ he spat ‘but you’ll die wishing he had; I’ll split you in half boy like I woulda done with ya sister!’

Samson again contemplated jumping into the fast flowing river below as he tugged again on the spear; but he did not possess enough strength to prise it away from the coloured mans grip.  He now had no alternative but to release his hold on his weapon; he glanced to his left and noticed a foot hole around a metre away from the end of the shelf.  It was all happening so fast he had let go of the spear and swinging his right foot around he stepped out grabbing out with his right hand all in the same movement.  His right boot wedged itself into the small hole; his right hand reached out and grabbed onto a piece of jutting out rock as his left leg and arm followed in the same movement.

Samson was now stood motionless on the side of the cliff; the river flowed relentless beneath; its power crashing into and away from the Cliffside.  Samson was stood on one leg as his left boot nestled its way into the hole and now resting alongside his right boot; both his hands clutched onto pieces of jutting out rock as he stood pinned to the side of the rock face like Spiderman.

                           *          *          *          *          *

 

Akecheta ran through the forest toward the cliff that he could see between the branches; he could see a hole in the Cliffside; then a figure appeared from the hole.  It was the boy; but even from this distance he could see from the boys posture that he was in danger; grave danger!  Akecheta moved stealthily through the undergrowth; jumping logs and rocks; but his eyes never left the boy; he willed him to move but the boy just looking around helplessly climb boy, climb with each second that passed Akecheta knew that the boy was about to be joined on the ledge!  Even from this distance it was clear to him from the boy’s expression that he was being chased and had just emerged from the hole in the side of the rock face; he could tell that the boy’s pursuers were close I have to get to him before they do….help me Annawan!

Then the boy stepped out onto a small shelf and began moving along the wall of the Cliffside; next a large coloured man appeared; a big heavily framed man, he too now stepped onto the shelf and began following the boy.  Akecheta’s attention was drawn to the ledge and where it ended; soon the boy would be out of ledge and the coloured man would have him nooooo……..I have to get there he ran faster than he had ever run in his life, he seemed to glide over the ground.  Now the boy and the coloured man both tugged away at the spear then the boy had let go of his weapon and was swinging himself around into the cliff and away from the shelf; away from the coloured man whose face was like nothing Akecheta had ever seen.  He had watched horror movies at the drive-thru with some of the others from his side of the town; but never in his wildest dreams did he expect to see the face that he now saw; this was like nothing he had ever seen in his life!  That face cannot be human?

Just away from the boy the cliff curved away; Akecheta prayed that the boy could get himself around this curve in time; if he could Akecheta could help him; help him get to the forest and to him.  It also occurred to him if the boy could round the curve he would be able to pin the coloured man back; Akecheta ran faster toward the fast flowing river and the cliff-face; faster toward the evil he was soon to face.

                           *          *          *          *          *

 

Samson stood motionless his hands clutched onto the rock, his face pressed tightly against the Cliffside; he looked to his left to where the coloured man was now nearly at the edge of the shelf.  Once he got to the edge of the shelf he would be able to reach out and grab Samson; Samson now looked to his right, he could see a small jutting out foothold.  Leaving his left boot on the edge of the small hole he stretched his right boot out to the small rut which jutted out from the Cliffside.  As soon as he felt his foot on the rut he grabbed out with his right hand until his fingers felt a slight crack into the rock, with desperation his fingers felt their way into the rock.  Samson pulled himself across; his breathing was heavy as he fought for every breath; his heart was pumping furiously; his nerves had never been as frayed as what they were now I’ll have a heart attack, I know I will?

Samson noticed that the cliff curved away toward the forest if I can just get that far he reached out with his boot again; and again it caught a small rut; he pulled himself over once more as he reached the slight curve.  There was another rut as he reached his boot out to rest on that one; his boot caught the rut as he reached out with his hand; this time the rut gave way!  Samson felt himself begin to fall; then his fingers caught a grip on another small fissure; he breathed a sigh of relief as he desperately felt around with his right boot; felt around for a safe foothold.  Samson felt even more like Spiderman as he found himself splayed to the side of the cliff-face; then he caught a movement in the forest, away to his right?

The movement was a person oh no it’s him; it’s the baseball capped man?  A man ran from the forest into a small grassed clearing on the riverbank just off to Samson’s right; right where Samson was headed please don’t let it be the baseball capped man; please God no he reached out again.  He could hear the large coloured man rounding the curve following in Samson’s steps.  Samson now saw the man ahead of him; it was an Indian man; a young Indian man; Samson felt in his heart that it was a good man; Samson saw the man soaked in sweat; his black vest which was soaked through stuck to him; his hair long and wet hung around his shoulders.  Samson looked into his dark brown eyes and even from the distance between them he saw kindness; the man had a bow held out in front of him; as he ran into the clearing pulling an arrow from his pouch he loaded the bow and ran forward aiming it just beyond Samson.  Hope erupted from inside Samson as he reached out to another rut and pulled himself closer, closer to what his heart told him was help help at long last, help Samson almost laughed at the word; how long had he been running from this evil.  One thing had followed another and although it had only been a couple of days since his whole trauma had begun in his head it felt a whole lot longer.  His body showed the scars; his mind too had scars; scars which he knew would stay with him for the rest of his life however long that may be?  Was it possible for this man he was now heading towards to fight the coloured man and the baseball capped man and win?  Samson doubted it very much these men were evil stop thinking and bloody well climb ‘come on Samson’ he gasped as he pulled himself another step closer to his new found friend; hope was on the horizon? 

Johnson had now rounded the bend and was now within grabbing distance of the boy fuckin little shit of a boy ‘come here ya little fucker’ he grabbed out but missed; a movement caught his eye; something was headed for him?  Johnson ducked his head just in time as an unknown object hit the spot of cliff where his head had just been ‘what the fuck?’  He looked around furiously as another object headed for him; this time he pulled back to the curve as again the object bounced off the rock and fell toward the raging torrent below.  Then he saw a man on the bank of the river; just ahead; where the boy was heading ‘leave now and I’ll spare your life; stay and you’ll go the same way as that little fucker’ he snarled in hateful rasps.

The first arrow would have been a direct hit if the coloured man had not pulled his head backwards, the second one he had also dodged; Akecheta had already bowed up another arrow and was aiming when the coloured man spoke; Akecheta pulled back on the bow.  ‘Climb; faster; quickly now’ he called out to the boy as he aimed his bow back toward the coloured man ‘I cannot’ he shouted as he fired off another arrow.

The coloured man had just pulled back around the curve on the Cliffside all that was left was his right hand, just about to let go of its holding point.  This time the arrow hit the back of his hand with a direct strike ‘aaaaarrrghh; you’ll fuckin well pay for that; I’ll fuckin kill the both of you and slowly you’ll see’ he pulled his hand around the curve; the arrow was jutting out from the back of his hand.  Johnson pulled his injured hand up to his mouth and gripping the arrow tightly with his teeth he yanked the arrow out and spat the shaft into the water below.

Samson was nearly at the edge; one more step and he could jump to the bank 1, 2, 3 and jump he jumped to the bank; landing on his knees he scrambled up the slight incline, onto the flat.  The young Indian man stepped toward him holding out his hand he pulled Samson up onto his feet ‘I am Akecheta; I have been sent to help you; come we must go and quickly the other two might come!’

Samson gasped for breath ‘other one’ he breathed deeply ‘there’s only two now; one of them is dead!’  His lungs gasped between sentences ‘I’m Samson!’

Akecheta looked at him doubtfully ‘two you say, one is dead; how do you know this?’

‘The bear killed one of them; I heard them talking when I was in the cave’ he breathed in and out slowing his heart rate to a manageable level.

‘They may have wanted you to think that there is only two; it could be a trick’ he fired off another arrow as the coloured man peered his head around the Cliffside.

Samson thought about what the Indian man had said he could be right; it might have been a trick? ‘No I’m sure; I know it, I saw the bear attack him; something told me; it was how it all happened; I heard the screams as well and the shots!’

Akecheta nodded ‘the shots; you see, if there were shots then the bear died and who fired the shots?  Come, we must go now; this way’ Akecheta turned and began running back into the forest.

Samson did not dwell on their conversation he was already running after the young Indian man named Akecheta ‘not too fast’ he panted ‘I cant keep it up too long I’m whacked out!’

The two new allies ran through the forest at speed; Akecheta had to slow down on several occasions to allow Samson to keep up; twice the young Indian changed course.  Every now and again they would stop and Akecheta would listen to the sounds of the forest, once he was happy he would nod to Samson and again they would set off on their marathon run through the arduous terrain of the Rockies.

                           *          *          *          *          *

 

Johnson jumped and landed on the riverbank; his bloodied hand had left a handprint trail across the cliff, a clear indication of every hand hold he had used on his climb across; now he pulled out his knife and sliced a piece off his t-shirt.  With his hand resting limply on his stomach he wrapped the cloth around his bleeding hand.  Johnsons face was anger at its purest as he scanned the forest in front of him; he tied the piece of t-shirt into a knot and pulled tight using his teeth ‘bastards they’ll pay for that’ his voice boomed.  Looking up into the sky he could see a hawk flying; remembering his boss’s words that the boy had help more help than we realised; little fucker!  Johnson’s hand ached as he began running into the undergrowth; he was going hunting and this time there would be no messing about, he had scores to settle!  ‘Fuckin big scores’ he whispered as he entered the greenery; now he too was running, jumping, landing, running he could smell them; they would tire and he would catch up with them of that he was sure?

He had run for around a mile when up ahead he could see a break in the trees; he was sure that it opened up into some sort of meadow clearing; there was a green, yellow and white haze indicating daisies and buttercups growing through the grass.  There was also movement and it was human movement two people moving across the meadow; it had to be them; one of them stopped running ‘fuckin well is them’ he boomed angrily as he slowed his pace to a trot party time; the boss can get fucked if he thinks I’m leaving these two fuckers alive!  He was nearly at the clearing now; his hand ached but the anger that had built up inside was over compensating the pain as he prepared for a little of his fun; he licked his lips, tasting the salt that was beginning to dry on them!

*          *          *          *          *

 

Samson and Akecheta ran hard through the forest until they reached a very large clearing; Akecheta ran into the clearing with Samson following close behind ‘we’re being followed my little friend.’

‘Oh no, we have to run faster’ Samson panted heavily.

Akecheta shook his head sadly ‘you will have to run faster my friend, you have to carry on alone; I must wait here and buy you some time’ he had slowed to a walk.

Samson fought hard for his breath ‘but I need you; I need you to help me get out of here!’

‘You have done well for yourself so far little warrior’ he slung the tied blanket from around his shoulder.

Samson shook his head ‘please come with me’ he pleaded.

Akecheta shook his head solemnly ‘he’ll catch up eventually we can’t run forever; it is best if I stay and battle this evil; it will give you time to get away’ he handed the tied blanket to Samson ‘take this it will keep you warm tonight and I will have no need for it anymore!’

Samson reluctantly took the blanket and slung the rope that bound it over his shoulder ‘but where do I go?’ He was close to tears now, he had come so far alone and now that he had finally found a companion it was to be a short-lived relationship.

Akecheta looked up into the red hot sky, the hawk circled high above; he pointed up ‘the hawk will guide you to safety my little friend!’

Samson had tears in his eyes ‘will I ever see you again?’

Akecheta smiled a sad smile ‘who knows what will happen; Wakatanka will decide the outcome.’

‘Wha………who is that?’ Samson asked through tears.

‘Wakatanka is everything and nothing it is everywhere and no-where, it is the land, the trees the light and the dark, the animals, it is the earth and the universe’ he looked toward the forest ‘go now; that way’ he pointed ‘head for the mountain.’  He unfastened one of the small pouches and opening it he pulled out some leaves and popped them in his mouth.  He passed the pouch to Samson ‘use this sparingly it will give you energy, run now my friend, do not be afraid; I will try to follow and whatever you do not come back this way and do not stop to watch’ he held Samson’s shoulders ‘do not be afraid for me little warrior, I do not fear death or the people that bring it!’

Samson took the pouch as the tears began rolling down his cheek, his eyes burned fiercely, then turning he began running; slowly at first, then his pace quickened as he moved through the large clearing until eventually he reached the forest on the other side.  The forest looked so uninviting, but he had no choice as he cautiously stepped inside the wall of undergrowth, he took several further steps then stopped to look behind him.  He saw Akecheta take off his pouch of arrows and place them on the floor with his bow; pulling a large knife out Akecheta watched the coloured man come out of the clearing.  Then Akecheta waited, as the man walked toward him;  Samson had a lump in his throat as he wiped tears from his eyes; he so wanted to wait to see what the outcome would be; but his second voice, the one he had come to depend upon told him it was time to get going you have to go Samson.  Samson turned sharply and began running quickly down a large slope; he had to get some distance between them, it was what he had been told to do; and he would do it good luck my friend Samson was now running again, with renewed vigour.

                           *          *          *          *          *

 

Akecheta placed the pouch of arrows on the floor next to his bow; his hair hung loose and wet around his shoulders; he shook it off as he flexed his muscles; the sound of his muscles clicked in several places as he tensed up.  Reaching his hand down to his side he pulled out the large Bowie knife; then holding the knife to his side he stood legs apart and eyes closed, he breathed in and out slowly!  

His whole body felt light; almost like paper, he could hear the blood flowing through his veins, like a river moving around his body, he felt at one with his environment as his heart beat it steady beats like the drums of the ancients he thought.  Akecheta breathed in deeply through his nose, he was somewhere else, in another time, in another place?  He looked at the vast plains in front of him, there were buffalo running; hundreds probably thousands of them, he was a warrior on a large black pony.  He looked along the ridge to where the other braves in his tribe were waiting for the signal to make their hunt on these sacred animals.  The chief sat further down the line on a grey Pony his face painted; his headdress showing all his majesty; Akecheta looked closely down the line; it was Annawan that he could see with the painted face; with the headdress, the chief was Annawan!  Now Annawan looked back down the line, down the line towards Akecheta; the other braves along the line also turned to face him, Annawan spoke; his words were as though he were standing right by his side; they drifted along the line.  ‘Econ Sni Kok-iPe Ki Iyusica Waka-Sica Unkis Imahel Niye (do not fear the corrupt devil, we are within you)’ Akecheta dismounted his Pony, they all dismounted; Akecheta stood looking along the line as one by one the braves stood and began walking toward him. 

A wave of electricity, an energy of some sort surged through his body as each of the braves walked into him; through him, one by one they entered him and walked through as though he were not there, as though he were just a spirit.  They exited him on the other side and disappeared; each one of the braves, their faces glowed with pride as they walked toward him, and one by one they entered his soul.  He watched them all disappear within him until at last it came to Annawan, he stopped directly in front of Akecheta ‘Gli Ekta Ki Elun Kize Cate-Tize Ohiti-Ke Wanji (return to the present fight fearlessly brave one)’ Annawan smiled at him; he did not enter just stood looking into Akecheta’s soul!

He was being sucked out of the setting; Annawan was still on the ridge; the buffalo still ran along the plains but the scene was becoming more and more distant until eventually Akecheta opened his eyes.  He was back in the present; the coloured man was walking toward him; he laughed ‘I’m gonna stick that knife so far up ya ass you’ll be begging me to end it quickly; little fuckin Indian’ his southern accent was threatening.

‘I do not fear you!’

‘Oh you should’ he snapped, his voice an angry snarl, he unclipped the holster on his belt and withdrew his Gloch ‘whats ya fuckin knife gonna do against this……..? Indian boy; welcome to the twenty first century’ he started to laugh; it was a deep rumble that seemed to echo around the meadow.

Akecheta stood firm as the coloured man raised the gun up to shoulder height; he pointed the gun at Akecheta ‘bang’ he pulled the trigger! 

Nothing happened; he pulled the trigger again still nothing happened as he pulled the trigger again and again; each time nothing happened.  He gave up and threw the gun at Akecheta; it flew through the air at speed; lightening quick speed; Akecheta twisted to the side and threw out his hand catching the gun in mid flight; he caught it side on between the barrel and the handle.  Flicking it around in his palm he now held the weapon comfortably in his grasp; his hair hung loose; the knife still clutched in his left hand as he watched the coloured man scanning his every gesture; his every movement.

The coloured man’s features were contorting around his face; Akecheta had never seen anything like it but he felt no fear; the rage within the coloured mans features was clear for Akecheta to see.  He could make out that the devil inside his foe was doing its upmost in trying to outwit Akecheta to scare him; to bring his fears to the fore.  The coloured mans tongue lapped out, tickling the air ‘fuckin Indian boy’ the voice was no longer that of the coloured man, now it was a higher pitched, taunting tone ‘come on Indian boy lets play’ his tongue flicked on the air again.

‘I do not fear your magic; for I have magic of my own’ he raised the pistol up to shoulder height and pointed the gun at the coloured man; then he pulled the trigger and fired; the gunshot echoed around the forest sending birds to flight as other wildlife scurried for hiding places within the forest.  The bullet hit the coloured man in his right shoulder sending him backwards a step; he regained his footing and began his charge; Akecheta fired off another shot this one hit him in the chest as he cried with rage; his face bubbling with anger.  The coloured man’s features bubbled around his cheeks as he charged again; another shot rung out in the meadow hitting him in the chest, then he fired again with another shot this one hitting him in the solarplexis; the coloured man fell to his knees holding his stomach.  His features still moved around his face but now they moved slower ‘you………..who are you’ the voice now raspy, as he looked helplessly for answers in Akecheta’s eyes.

‘I am Akecheta of the Sioux nation!’

‘He will come for you, you will beg for mercy before you die’ the voice now a high pitched rattle as the blood began to rise in his throat.

‘I do not fear your evil or the people who wield it.’

The coloured man began to laugh ‘It is not the people you have to fear, it’s what they become’ he laughed harder now as the blood oozed from every bullet hole.  Blood now began to come from the coloured man’s mouth; his once white teeth were now red, he spat a mouthful of blood on the floor.

 Akecheta walked over to the kneeling coloured man and raised the pistol, his arm came up aiming the pistol at the coloured mans head ‘welcome to the twenty first century’ he fired; the bullet went straight through the middle of his head; right between the eyes; exiting on the back of his skull and out into the meadow beyond.  The life left the coloured man instantly as he knelt motionless for several seconds until eventually his frame fell to the floor with a loud thud, he rolled onto his side.  Akecheta tossed the gun onto the coloured mans body; he put his Bowie knife back into its sheaf which hung from his waist; then reaching into one of his pouches he pulled out a powdery substance.  It was dry and yellow in colour; now Akecheta walked around the corpse, he began to sprinkle the powder over the lifeless form that lay before him.  As the powder hit the body; the body began to twitch; hissing sounds could be heard coming from the body where the powder had landed; there were voices quiet but vicious they were speaking in a language that Akecheta had never heard.  He swallowed hard and nervously, desperately blocking out the evil voices that spoke to him, cursed him, goading him.  Blocking out the voices he continued walking around the body sprinkling his recipe; a gift from the ancients passed down from generation to generation; the body convulsed rapidly; it bounced and wriggled with each drop of the dusty powder until gradually it slowed and eventually stopped.

Akecheta reached into another of the pouches on the belt around his waist and pulled out some matches; he lit one of the matches and threw it onto the body!  As soon as the match landed the body instantly burst into flames; hissing and bubbling, the sound of quiet screaming voices erupted from the form as they cursed their foul curses!  Vomit rose from deep within him until it reached his throat, he desperately tried to keep the sickness inside.  With the vomit still within his throat he watched the body of the defeated and dead coloured man shrivel up inside itself; then suddenly all the activity stopped.  A smell of rotting; cooked flesh drifted up his nostrils; Akecheta turned to the side and threw up; his hands rested on his knees as he continued heaving until he could sick up no more. 

 

I hope you're enjoying Samson.......if you are please tell your friends so they can enjoy it too!!

All the best

Dean Horton