'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

'Samson' Chapter 5 'The leap of faith'

Samson

Written by Dean Horton

 

 

Chapter 5 ‘The leap of faith’ 

 

Samson had been walking for about one hour since he had seen the torch beams; suddenly he had a strange feeling, that feeling had returned again; the feeling tingled through his veins, growing and growing desperate to take hold.  It was almost like a sixth sense; it had suddenly gone colder around him, or was it his mind playing tricks?  He stopped walking and listened there’s danger he could sense it; his heart pounded against his chest; the feeling growing and growing; something was not right!  A howl could be heard in the far off distance Wolves but here where Samson now stood there was no sound; no breeze; no wildlife; the forest always had sounds but now there was nothing you’re in danger!  Samson you’re in danger!  His heart began to beat stronger and stronger, faster and faster, he was afraid and sensed that everything else in the forest was also afraid but afraid of what, oh God don’t do this to me?

Then he saw it, around twenty metres away there was a shape?  It was a man!  Samson could make out his silhouette as the moonlight shone through the trees; he could make out that the man was wearing a baseball cap!  Samson swallowed quietly; evil was around him; his brain was instructing him to run but he stood motionless, afraid just watching in the direction of the silhouette.  Samson stared as two red glows appeared beneath the peak of the cap!  Samson wanted to scream; to vanish but he was caught what do I do; please God, what do I do? 

The silhouette started to laugh then he spoke ‘does he answer you; your God?  Does he tell you what to do?’

Samson would never forget that voice; it was a Mexican accent but contained evil that Samson would never be able to explain; a mocking evil; an unimaginable evil!

There was a movement away to Samson’s left as another figure began forcing his way through the foliage, a large silhouette with two glints of red light right where his eyes should be.  This figure was moving quickly and noisily now, moving in his direction, toward him toward ME!  Samson had already turned and was now sprinting again; sprinting as fast as his young legs could carry him; moving fast toward the ravine, suddenly he caught another movement up ahead!  The third man this one wearing a cowboy hat, with two tiny pinpricks of red glow beneath the front brim of the hat, he was moving in from the right; he was cutting him off?  He was too close oh God he’s got me a hand reached out toward him but Samson was quicker as he dived beneath the outstretched arm; hitting the floor on his shoulder he rolled up onto his feet; spitting out dust he continued through the thick underbrush.  The hands tried to grab at him again as they turned to pursue; now there were two sets of footsteps behind him and now they were only two metres behind him!  Samson’s heart was now beating so fast he felt like it was going to jump right out of his chest and leave him right there, leave him helpless on the rugged path.  But his heart never left him instead it forced him on faster and faster he had never been so scared in all his life and now he ran for his life!

Samson’s legs carried him through branch after branch; twigs scraping along his face; into his eyes and mouth; but Samson ran; he ran as fast as his legs would carry him.  He ran as if all the Devils of hell were after him; for they were!  Up ahead Samson saw the ravine; it was no use he had no-where to go!   In twenty steps he would be at the top of the fifty metre drop; he had no choice he would have to stop!  Samson carried on running towards the edge with fear pushing him on; hearing a laugh from behind; he remembered what these men, were they men?  What they had done to his family; evil was after him; his legs carried him forward, toward the top of the ravine!

The experience that happened to him next Samson would never be able to explain; never would he be able to find the words to explain the instructions his brain gave to his body?  He did not stop running; he carried on right to the end of the ravine; right to the point where it dropped away.  To the very edge of the world where he leapt; leapt to his doom right from the top of the ravine fifty metres or perhaps more above the ground!  His body flew through the air his momentum sending him forward yet downward; dropping, dropping, dropping until his body caught the branches of the first trees which grew below; his movement still taking him forward and downward.  His arms reached out desperately as he dropped through the blanket of branches.  With his body hitting branch after branch Samson fell and fell grabbing and missing until at last his grip caught hold of a branch some 5 metres from the ground!

His weight was pulling him down but he held on with all his might as everything around him stopped; his mind was still falling, about to hit the floor!  Eventually he regained his composure I’m alive he took several desperate but deep breaths before he shimmied along the branch and began climbing down the massive tree an Atlantic White Cedar 30 metres tall in all its majesty.  Samson dropped to the ground; desperately trying to catch his breath; he crouched over; his hands resting on his thighs as he breathed and coughed; spluttering as he inhaled; his whole body felt bruised and battered from the pounding it had taken from impacting with the branches of the large Atlantic White Cedar.

Crouching over with his hands on his thighs Samson’s lungs took in as much air as they could, he felt like someone with asthma as he panted, panted and breathed.  His mouth felt dry, his body battered, his head throbbed and his legs ached like nothing he had ever experienced in his life; but he was alive, alive and kicking.  After everything that he had witnessed and everything he had lost, Samson did something that he would never be able to tell anyone and he had no idea why, but he began to laugh.  It was surreal a moment of madness, but Samson was in a mad fit of laughing; he laughed that much that he began to choke, once again losing his breath calm down you idiot have you forgot about them?  Almost instantly the laughing stopped as he straightened, suddenly becoming more serious as the reality set back in!  

Once his breathing had settled he brought his hand up and pulled some twigs from out of his hair, he dusted himself off and looked up to the top of the ravine; the three men stood at the top looking down; three sets of red eyes glowed in the darkness as they stared down at him from their high vantage point!  The one in the baseball cap pointed down at Samson and began speaking loudly.  Samson tried to make out what he was saying but it was a foreign language almost Spanish sounding; eventually the man straightened; his head looked up to the sky; his chest puffed out with his arms stretched out to his sides and behind him.  The man was still speaking and Samson could feel the breeze had picked up around him get out of here, Samson; for Gods sake move!  Samson had already turned all thoughts of his bruised and battered body had now gone; he was getting out of there and he was going right now!

With that thought Samson was turning from the three men and was moving swiftly away from the ravine, trying to put as much space between him and the three men as possible……..run Samson run!

 

Killdeer Mountain; North Dakota 23.45 local time: 

The small camp fire began raging; its flames dancing higher and higher; a wolf howled in the near distance.  The old Indian man sat cross-legged and topless; he tilted his head slightly listening to the sound of the wolves as the moon shone brightly overhead.  His attention turned back to the fire as its flames now leapt several feet into the air; the man’s sight followed the flames as a cloud shadow crossed the full moon; the man reached down to a small bowl on the floor directly in front of him.  Bringing the bowl up he placed his finger into the white liquid and began marking his face; with precise strokes he painted his face; constantly dipping his finger into the liquid.  His forefinger worked the paint into his aged old features; eventually his face was complete; he placed the bowl on the floor.  The aged man was quietly chanting; his voice could hardly be heard above the cackling sound of the small camp fire; dipping his index finger and forefinger on both hands into another bowl containing a red liquid, he brought them up to his face then he traced two lines across his nose and down his cheeks on either side of his face.  He dipped his fingers into the red liquid again and traced two lines across his chest one on either side! 

His chanting gradually becoming louder he reached into one of the pockets on the leather belt around his waste; his hand pulling out again; he opened his palm revealing a powdery substance.  Another howl, this time closer, then an owl hooted somewhere close by, somewhere off to his right past the underbrush and deep inside the clump of trees as the aged man continued his chanting.  The moon was now completely covered by cloud; the only light now coming from the small camp fire whose flames were still several feet high; almost abnormal compared to the size of the small fire.  The man threw the powdery substance onto the fire; the fire hissed loudly as the flames subsided; almost disappearing as they retreated back into the wooden logs at its base.  The aged Indian man carried on with his chanting only louder now, his ancient chanting; the flames now returned a pale blue; a forceful flame like a welding jet; they rose two feet from the ground.  All around him a wind had whipped up as the man carried on with his chants; the wind circled him biting him; pulling at his hair; but still he continued with the constant chanting; more howls off in the distance as the wind continued its attack upon the old man!

The man reached into his belt again into another of the pockets and pulled out a palm-full of another powdery substance this time he threw it into the air around him!  Instantly the wind stopped; the shadow began retreating from over the moon as the fire now became smaller and more normal looking with its yellow and orange flames dancing lower.  The man had stopped chanting, he stared up into the night sky; there was a sound several feet to his right; the man turned to face the sound; three wolves stood in the clearing looking at the old man!  The old man began talking quietly; an ancient language no longer spoken; passed down from generation to generation of the Lakota Sioux for hundreds possibly thousands of years.  Slowly he walked toward the three animals as they stood in the clearing; watching his every move!

 

Rocky Mountains 23.45 local time:   

Samson darted through the forest stopping for nothing; the wind following in his wake almost as if he were being chased by it!  The sound of branches and trees crashing and falling as though an invisible giant were following in Samson’s wake!  Not once did he look behind as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him; they ached severely but still he ran from the following wind and whatever malevolent force it contained?  After thirty minutes of non stop running he stopped his lungs gasping for air; the breeze had subsided and gone!  He crouched over his hands on his knees; his lungs fighting for every breath, in and out his chest moved until eventually his body re-adjusted itself as the air filled his lungs.  Samson wanted to cough and vomit but he had no energy to summon either, he was battered and beaten, he was tired and worn out, in desperation he leant his arms against a tree.  For what seemed like 30 minutes Samson closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose, exhaling out through his mouth.  His heartbeat had slowed; his breathing had become easier as his body returned to normal.

After he had regained his composure he began moving again this time slower; his body was battered and tired; he walked on wearily until at last Samson came to a stream, he stopped and crouching down he cupped water; splashing it over his face.  The water cooled him, soothed him as he splashed it over his hair, following through the motion he rubbed his hands around the back of his neck which was sticky with sweat.  There was a rock away to his right; Samson staggered wearily toward the rock, feeling like he would collapse at any moment!

It was only several steps but they were probably the longest steps he had ever taken; once he reached the rock he sat down wearily upon it; after several seconds of just sitting motionless regaining his energy he pulled the rucksack from his back.  Swinging the rucksack around to his front he opened the pack and reaching inside he pulled out his water flask; opening the lid he took several mouthfuls; it soothed his dry throat as it flowed down filling his bladder.  There was the packet of biscuits he had taken from the kitchen earlier, he pulled the biscuits out and opening them he ate two before putting them back into his pack.  Samson wanted to eat more but his brain was telling him he was in for a long haul and every bit of food he had would be needed later on!  The moonlight broke slightly through the thick canopy above him lighting up the forest around him.  Thoughts of his family kept coming to the fore of his mind as he constantly tried to block them out; he could not let himself linger; somehow he had to save himself I’ve got to try not to think about them, I have to stay alive, I have to do this!

The “jump” had at least brought him a little time they would not attempt the same thing; of that he was certain  if they were going to jump they would have done it right after me; followed me there and then; but they didn’t!  They had not jumped and this buoyed his hopes, it told Samson they would have to either climb down or follow the ravine around until they reached a point where they could reach the ground safely.  That would take them a little while the ravine seemed to spread on for quite a distance and they would probably have to split up; one go one way, one go the other, that would be the only way they could know which was the quickest descent.  After that they would have to meet back up; yes, he felt buoyed now! 

Leaning back slightly he knitted his fingers behind his head; stretching out his muscles, feeling several crack, in his fingers, his shoulders and down his back; his body had taken a severe beating the last few hours.  He took several more gulps of water then re-filled his bottle from the stream before replacing it in his backpack.  Samson felt refreshed as he thought through his options, eventually deciding to follow the path of the stream and not the moon; hoping that the stream would bring him to civilisation and safety?  It made perfect sense to follow the stream, towns and civilisation were always built near water there has to be a town….there has too?  Wearily he rose to his feet and began walking again come on Samson you can do it; if you don’t start now you never will!  His legs felt like lead as he began moving them again, every step ached, every movement ached, after around thirty or forty steps the aches in his legs were beginning to subside yes Samson you’ve had a lucky escape my friend!  That voice and the words that it spoke came back to him “does he answer you; your God?  Does he tell you what to do” perhaps God had answered him?  Perhaps it was God that had told him to jump from the ravine, perhaps he had put the thought into Samson’s mind without him knowing ‘I hope so I could do with all the help I can get’ he whispered as he continued on his trek yep all the help I can get! 

Samson had followed the stream for three hours; hearing nothing except the usual sounds of the forest and the trickling of water as it flowed over the dirt and rocks.  His walking had become much slower, every step was now laboured.  His walking was becoming more like a trudge; Samson was tired he needed to rest, he felt as though his whole body was going to give up on him.  He had wanted to stop earlier but the fear that the three men were hot on his tail had kept him moving; now though Samson needed to rest if only for a short time, I can just lay up for twenty minutes he could just make out a fallen tree off to his right.  He nodded to himself that looks as good a place as any; almost inviting he walked over to the fallen tree; the lead had now returned to his legs again, they were getting heavier with each step toward the fallen tree!  Samson took the rucksack from his back and placed it on the floor leaning it against the fallen tree next he sat wearily down and leant his head against the small backpack behind him. 

With his mind replaying the events of the last six hours Samson fell into sleep; a deep sleep; his thoughts taking him on several journeys; his eyes moving under his closed eyelids, he was on holidays, he was at school then he saw an old Indian man sitting by a camp fire.  Samson stood still watching the man, he was talking; no not talking, chanting, the man was chanting, the man was around twenty metres away from where Samson was standing.  Slowly Samson walked up to the camp fire and watched from behind the man; the old man was oblivious to him; he was still chanting as Samson walked around to the front of where he sat cross-legged he walked around to face the old man, with only the small fire separating them both.  The night was warm as Samson stared down at the man who was still oblivious to him, still chanting quietly under his breath; it sounded like things he had seen in the movies, the Cowboy and Indian movies that he used to watch with his Dad when he was younger. 

Eventually the old man stopped chanting as a silence engulfed around them; all sound had gone; the fire, the breeze, the night; silence had enveloped them!  The man opened his eyes and looked up into Samson’s eyes he began to speak; his voice aged and wise, his features weathered ‘do not fear the wolf or the great bear!  There is danger; all around you, but do not be afraid, you are not alone!  You will have help?  Remember my words do not fear the wolf or the great bear?’  His voice was old and wise and Samson could feel the kindness of the old man through his eyes; the old man smiled sadly; Samson noticed the marks on his face, the white painted face and the red lines, he had not noticed them before; they were not there the first time I looked I’m sure they weren’t there the painted marks…………………

A sound!  Samson opened his eyes to daylight; he had heard a sound; dread filled his thoughts I’m not alone!  The same sound again, a snort!  Down by the stream, there’s something down by the stream?  His heart was pounding as he tried his hardest to control his breathing, to control his nerves I need to look!  Samson swung around silently onto all fours then with his heart pounding he crouched up onto his knees; then cautiously he peered over the top of the log toward the stream; a sigh escaped him ‘it’s a moose’ he whispered to himself. 

How long have I been asleep? ‘Oh no’ fear began to take hold again; he had given them the chance to catch up, he had been asleep for a long time, he could sense that it had been many hours.   They’ll catch up with me he clenched his fists and brought them up to the sides of his head pushing them into his temples hard you don’t know that though?  The wilderness is a big place and they know this area like you do, not very well?  ‘Damn, damn, damn’ they may be from around these parts; they may know the area well?  Samson shook his head slightly no they had come from the city he had seen the one in the baseball cap say to his father ‘Mr Calcone sends his regards’ that meant his father must know them or this Mr Calcone; his Father must have had dealings with him?   

Samson knew he had to carry on moving; he had to follow the stream again but first he would have another drink, his survival book had told him that; he pulled the book out again and read.  “WATER – Ordering your priorities has to be one of the key steps to survival.  Our basic needs are food, fire, shelter and water, their order of importance depends on where you are, but water is always essential, the most important of all.  An adult can survive for three weeks without food but only three days without water.  Do not wait until you run out of water until you look for more.  Conserve supplies and seek a new source of fresh flowing water, though it is possible for all water to be sterilised.  The human body loses 2-3 litres (4-6 pints) of water each day.  Loss of liquids through respiration and perspiration increases with work-rate and temperature.  It is most important that you keep yourself fully hydrated.”  After reading the book he drank and ate some more, filling his bottle twice.

After he had eaten and drank plenty Samson picked the book from off the log, knowing that the longer he stayed in the forest this book would be his lifeline.  Before setting out on his journey again he decided that he needed to try and pee; he unfastened his trousers and stood there for several minutes trying to relieve himself, eventually it came, the feeling made him sigh and shudder at the same time. Once he had put the book away he threw the backpack over his shoulders, settling it into a comfortable position, once he was happy, he glanced around the area he had slept making sure he had left nothing behind to show he had been there.  Once he had scanned the area he nodded to himself then set off again continuing on his course along the stream and wherever it decided to lead him. 

Several times on his march Samson lost his footing, his foot falling into the water; although his hiking boots were waterproof, twice his foot had gone in deeper than the boot forcing the water over the sides and into his socks and boots.  His feet were now soaked; he could hear them squelching as he walked; it was becoming more and more uncomfortable with each step; his feet were not used to this kind of relentless torture and he could feel the start of blisters.  With every step he could feel the back of his hiking boot rubbing the soft skin on his heels, he could also feel them coming on the ball of his foot I need to get out of these damn boots and look at my feet!  As he walked a little further the pain was beginning to move up his calves, a slight tingling and a tightness that stretched up to his thighs and hamstrings, a lone tear rolled down his cheek as he begin to feel nauseous and tired.

Samson stopped and looked around there was a slight bank off to his right; he decided to go to the top and check it out, see what was over the other side, he knew from the aches and pains his body was now feeling that he needed to hold up somewhere, he had to rest up, to enable him to dry his boots and socks and look at those blisters, but most of all he needed to rest.  If he could just find somewhere shaded and out of view; somewhere out of the way but open enough to allow the sun to dry his boots and socks quicker.  If they were close and he found a good enough hiding place; somewhere well covered and out of view, he was sure he would be safe?  They would not be able to use the night goggles in the daylight.  Samson smiled he knew the goggles relied on body heat; but now in the hot daytime sun they would be useless; he could just hide up, then watch them walk on by now to find somewhere quiet, safe and out of the way!

 As he reached the top of the hill he found five or six fallen trees in amongst the common junipers that littered the area, like a blanket en masse the Junipers covered the floor in front of him.  They were all around three metres tall; their yellowish brown twigs scraped his face as he waded through deeper and deeper until he was situated between the fallen logs.  Samson saw a hare scurry into the undergrowth it must have been feeding on some of the leaves he knew that they ate this kind of tree along with deer, moose and mountain goats they all loved the taste of the common juniper leaves.  Throwing his pack on the floor he settled down against it resting for a few minutes; he could feel the hot sun breaking through bits of the canopy; his body still ached but no-where near like it had in the earlier hours of the morning.  A little rest and these aches and pains will be gone! 

Eventually Samson slipped out of his fleece jacket, then after undoing his laces on his hiking boots he took them off and placed each one in a small patch of sunlight; following the same procedure he took off his socks finding patches of sunlight for them too.  He looked down at his feet happy that the blisters were not as bad as he had first thought but they will be they were just developing!  Samson leaned his head back and thought; he thought about many things, about the dream, about school, about the forest that engulfed him.  Each time his family came into his thoughts and at those times he had to fight to block them out, each time he concentrated on something different; yet his thoughts always returned to his pursuers. They would be back; on that he was sure after all he had seen their faces and there was no-way that they would let that happen, let themselves be identified. They had to get rid of that threat; had to get rid of Samson so far they haven’t done too good a job in catching me; so I’ll just have to make sure it stays that way!  Samson felt confident that where he was now hiding was deep enough in the brush to keep him safe time will tell on that!  He glanced at his boots and socks smiling as he watched the steam rise from them; the steam coming from the heat of the sun as they dried.  What would he do if he heard them go by?  Probably turn back and head the way I came back to the cabin; to the rifle; to the rifle that Dad had put on the wardrobe the men seemed militarily trained; this concerned him ‘they’ll be able to follow my tracks?’  He had not thought of that before; Samson swallowed nervously; then he heard a sound twenty feet away, a cawing sound; he stared through the branches until his eyes caught sight of the cause of the sound!

Twenty metres away in a nearby tree a crow nestled on one of the outside branches; large and jet black in colour, its feathers shiny, almost glistening as the sun caught its rays upon them.  The crow seemed to be staring at Samson and Samson glared back; each of them failing to break their stare.  Samson had a strange feeling again; it was just like before in the night he had had the feeling twice now once at the cabin and once in the woods when he saw them, just before he made the jump!  The jump….I must have been mad attempting that!  The crow cawed again; then it cawed again this time louder; Samson swallowed; his throat becoming dry once more, he moved his tongue around his mouth trying to generate the slightest bit of moisture I have to move!  Reaching out his hand he felt his socks; they were now dry, without hesitation he put his socks back onto his feet one by one; then he followed this with his boots, tying the laces tightly.  ‘I’m out of here’ he whispered swinging himself around onto his knees, he could feel the muscles in his calves and thighs they ached more than ever as he knelt on his knees, he could feel his tendons taught.  He made sure everything was packed away in his backpack; once that was all secure he slipped his arms one by one through the straps.  The crow cawed again; Samson was starting to feel anxious something about this is definitely not right he peered through the branches only to see the crow looking directly at him and the bird had now moved even closer!

Samson made his way quickly down the slope and back onto the slight path by the stream where he walked briskly for several hundred metres ‘I’ve got to get away from here’ he looked behind warily before carrying on.  After he had walked for around a mile Samson stepped into a large clearing of around thirty metres square; the stream seemed to flow around it.  As soon as Samson was out in the open clearing he felt the heat from the sun ‘its just too hot’ he told himself as he ducked back into the cover of the forest; deciding to skirt around the clearing instead, besides it felt better being under cover; made him feel safer, more protected; protected from prying eyes.  But even in the shade of the forest the heat was becoming almost unbearable I wonder what time it is?  Samson looked at the position of the sun; it was almost overhead it has to be midday; I’ve been walking for ever! 

Samson walked on and on; he could feel the sun burning down through the canopy overhead; he had walked for hours and the sun was burning him through and through.  His head felt like it was melting and his hair felt wet from sweat unlike my throat, Jesus Samson you had sunstroke yesterday and the day before, you need to get your head covered!  He stopped and pulled out his survival book from his backpack; skimming through the small book until he came to the section headed “Climate and Terrain” Samson scrolled through the pages until he found what he was looking for.  “Headgear – a hat with a piece of cloth attached to the back will protect but, better still copy Arab headwear: make a handkerchief into a wad on top of the head, fold diagonally a piece of cloth about 120cm (4ft) square, place over the handkerchief, long edge forward, and secure with a cord tied around the head.  This traps pockets of air, wrap around face for warmth at night.” 

Not having a spare piece off cloth handy Samson unzipped his fleece jacket and instinctively took the jacket off; next he took off his t-shirt; it was wet from sweat and clinging tightly to his skin.  Once he was topless he could feel the sun drying him and burning him he picked up the book again to re-read what the instructions were telling him to do.  Something else on the page caught his eye “Keep covered! Apart from risking severe sunburn, an uncovered body will lose sweat by evaporation.  Keep clothing loose with a layer on insulating air, sweating will then cool you more efficiently.”  He instantly pulled his fleece from the floor and placed his arms back inside before zipping it up around him.  Sighing heavily he folded the t-shirt arms in on themselves and put the t-shirt on his head; the arms on his scalp while the rest of the t-shirt draped around his ears and neck.  Now he needed something to tie around his head to hold his headgear in place; the only thing catching his eye were his laces no way man, you aren’t having those he scanned the surrounding area until his eyes happened on some bind weed.  Samson ripped a good length of the bind weed and began to tie it around his head; happy with his new hat Samson had several mouthfuls of water before he began on his travels once again.

 

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Regards

Dean Horton