This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. The story is one from a time long, long, ago in a land far, far, away. Any resemblance to your experience, or those living or dead from those experiences is purely unintentional and completely coincidental. This is meant as fiction. All feedback is appreciated. Drop a line to: shakes003@hotmail.com and I will get back to you ASAP.
Sorry folks! I wanted to make this chapter longer...but it just didn't work out that way. Hope you enjoy this one nonetheless.
"Don't even think about moving, kid." I heard the scruffy voice that belonged to the gun announce behind Montana's frozen body.
Montana's eyes were wide with fear, and I felt the fear spread itself into me like a contagious plague. Montana was never scared. This was not good. I tried to assess the situation--the horses were off on the prairie about 30 yards away with most of our gear. My clothes and gun belt were in a heap to my left. Montana hadn't gotten as far as to put his belt on. It wouldn't have mattered. The voice would've spotted it. I could hear the blood rushing to my head when I backed away from Montana. The barrel shifted and was now pointed at my forehead.
"One move and it'll be your last, kid." The owner of the voice stepped up from behind Montana. He was older than Montana--much older. He had dull brown hair that reached his shoulders and looked like it could've housed rats for as much as it was cared for. His eyes were brown and hard as they lingered on me--moving over me from head to foot. He looked to be a couple of inches shorter than Montana which would still make him a couple of inches taller than me, and the majority of the weight he carried was in the middle. I noticed how parts of his underwear were showing through gaps between the buttons of his shirt. He stared at me hard. Not knowing what else to do, I put my hands up in the air.
"I was just going for my clothes, sir." I motioned over to the pile off to my side. The stranger didn't take his eyes off of me. I looked at Montana as if he were going to give me some sort of explanation. His eyes were wild, and he shook his head ever so slightly, as if to warn me but I didn't pay attention. The stranger started licking his lips and I went cold inside. There was no way I was going to stand naked in front of him all day while he just stood and stared. I moved for my clothes.
I heard the shot go off, and a cloud of dust kicked up in front of my feet and caused me to freeze. I heard Montana gasp, and the stranger moved towards me with a scowl.
"You don't listen for shit, do ya, kid?" It made me laugh. It sounded like something Montana would say to me. For an instant I half convinced myself that it was Montana before the stranger lifted his arm and brought the butt end of his gun down hard over my head. I went down into a peaceful darkness.
My eyes felt heavy when I tried to open them. I could tell it was night, and it felt like it was crushing me. As I became more aware, I realized I was lying facedown with the ground hard and cold beneath me. I tried to move my arms and legs to get up, and realized they were tied--my arms behind me. I shivered, and although somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I felt it was possible that I may be cold, the shivering was not from the temperature, or the fact that I had no clothes on. Something was wrong. There was a heavy weight pressing me down, and I was unable to tell what it was. My body seemed numb.
In my mind, I wished frantically for Montana. I repeatedly tried to move to get up and find him, but the weight on my back was restricting my movements. The only thing I was able to move was my head. I slowly turned it to one side and saw Montana. He was bound and gagged and tied to a tree about five or six feet away. His one eye was bruised and swollen, and blood was seeping from his nose, soaking the material that was tightly tied over his mouth. He was staring at me in horror--the same look he gave me when the man had aimed his gun at me. The man.
As the day's events slowly crept into my mind, I became aware that the weight on my back that was pinning me down, was a person. The faint sound of men chuckling suddenly entered my senses, and I was overcome by a sense of terror. I felt hot breath stroking my neck and shoulders, and heard grunting next to my ear. I looked back at Montana in desperation, and noticed the tears falling from his eyes as he struggled against the rope that held him tightly to the tree. I felt the ache begin to present itself before I closed my eyes and drifted off into another cold darkness.
I could feel warm hands gently stroking my back. I was too afraid to move--afraid of causing a repeat of the events that occurred what seemed like only minutes before. Somehow, I knew inside that the loving hands upon me wouldn't hurt me. They were a soothing contrast to the ache of having my arms and hands bound behind me; the cramping that was starting in my stomach; the burning soreness of my ass. I opened my eyes and the night blinded me with darkness. I wanted to say something, but my throat was parched. I tried anyway.
"Montana..." I managed to croak out.
"Shhh..." I felt his warm breath on my ear as his big hand gently clamped over my mouth.
"They're asleep," he said. I felt his lips touch my cheek as he fumbled with the binds on my wrists. Soon my hands were free--my arms seizing as I tried to bring them up and to the front of me so that I could push myself off of the cold dirt. Montana must have sensed my discomfort. He slowly rolled me over onto my back before scooping me up into his arms, and then carried me deeper into the darkness.
I wasn't sure where we were headed, or even how far Montana took us. The world remained black around me and time lost its meaning. I tried to carry my own weight--or at least I wanted to. In silence I pleaded with Montana to let me down, but he seemed to know my predicament a lot better than I had. In silence, Montana answered me with his refusal to let me go.
He laid me down onto a soft patch of earth. His hands and breath were soft as they ran over my body--momentarily easing the pain that existed on their travels. I was shivering with cold as I prayed for Montana's body to cover and fill me and keep me warm. Instead, I felt the soft earth wrap around me with Montana's help. His lips were soft as they pressed against my own, and then I felt him leave me. I wanted to reach out to him; I wanted to beg him to stay close to me, but the darkness took over and I could feel myself slipping away again.
"Take care of him, Kabaya," I heard him half-whisper, and then came the subtle reply of air forced out of a horse's nose. I finally let the darkness take me.