FireFly had lost sight of Cal in the commotion around her..Indians and horses were falling in the street under the spewing death of the Gatling gun in front of the Sheriffs office. The rattle of the gun and the cry of the Indians as they loosed their arrows on the men lining the street was something out of a nightmare, the dust rose up to envelope all in a twisting cloud of chaos. The screams of the injured horses made Rain below her twist and jump. She wheeled around in a tight circle, he tossed his head and chuffed his agitation, lifting deadly hooves and grinding his teeth. FireFly could not let the Indians face this alone ..would not!. She saw the man with the Gatling gun lean down to grab another belt of ammo ...Digging in her heels, she exploded into action, pulling her lariat free she dove into the Melee with the rope spinning..it was pure chance it landed over the nose of the gun, and jerked it off the porch to bounce behind her as she raced down the street . The Braves who swooped in beside her screaming their joy met her eyes with admiration..The Death rattle had stopped, but not the gunfight, as FireFly turned to look back,it happened ...The Bullet slammed into her shoulder pitching her back and lifting her completely out of the saddle. The searing hot pain knifed through her, Rain switched leads below her with a grunt. She felt someone slam against her back as they leaped onto Rain in a dead run, she felt hands come around her to grab the reins out of her numbing fingers. She fell back against a strong chest ..her eyes were closing!!! NOOOOO! She screamed ...but heard nothing as the velvet blackness descended..... Her eyes fluttered open, she could feel the soft fur against her cheek, the lyrical murmur of Indians talking, blended into the senses awakening around her. The sun kissed leather above drenched her in diffused light and warm colors. The thick textures of the furs below her a welcome caress. She could hear the voices and squeals of children running by, the drone of insects was punctuated by trills of bird song, a dog barked in the distance, and a horse neighed, telling her what lay beyond the wall of skins. The smell of woodsmoke and the pungent aroma of sage and sweetgrass released a flow of welcome memories. Ona would be here soon , dribbling water on her face to wake her, or poking her in the ribs with the feathered staff she leaned upon, complaining of her lazy golden Sister. FireFly grinned. Her soul sang. She heard a horse neigh again...wait a moment, that sounded like Rain. The timbre and urgency was a warning...its message rippled across her flesh, what would he be upset about? FireFly turned her head, and her eyes widened in surprise. Her wrist was stretched out and wrapped in a strip of leather that was attached to a stake driven deep in the earth beside her. Why is this? She thought, and attempted to lift her arm to test the strength of the leather. White hot pain seared through her shoulder. She fell back as the room around her shifted and fell away to nightmare. Her nose was assailed with the ripe smell of blood and whiskey, it had been poured across her open raw flesh. Reality was spinning into her, she remembered now ...the Gatling gun ..being shot. She was alive . She saw a man with his back to her, she could see he was wiping a long thin bladed knife on a blooded rag, her blood. Fighting to stay focused away from the overwhelming burn of her shoulder, she felt the presence of another man leaning over her before she could see him. Intending to thank them for helping her, FireFly turned her head. Before his face swam into focus, she first saw the wall of iron bars stretched across the room behind him. Questions rose to her parched lips, and died there. The Man they called the Buzzard was leaning down over her, grinning through a broken face.
Posted on: Wed, 19 Nov 2014 09:59:47 +0000
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