Cursed Canyon Part 1

A father tries to save his son from The gallows fighting through the wild West in the process!

Chapter 1

The wind rose over the tops of the mountains and swept down through the valley with lighting speed. Two figures, sitting atop their stagecoach, rode through the canyon, smoking pipes and talking. Their voices bounced off the canyon walls and hit their ears with urgency. Samuel Clayton was the driver, a man whose mission was to reach York, a small mining town about sixty miles from tombstone. That town held his son, Tona, and his intended to retrieve him. Robbing banks could have gotten the young man a very long stay in the cold iron box, but Samuel had sent the sheriff the bail and the sheriff had not refused. The sheriff of York knew him well, for Samuel was a war hero, serving in the Civil War and being twice decorated for courageous acts. Samuel did not think of himself as a hero, he was truly an ordinary man who had done nothing but shot two men and had taken their whiskey. Their tent had been full of whiskey when he killed them. It was either that or die yourself. B******s! Samuel looked ahead to the horizon and saw the orange sun. He remembered sitting and watching the sun set when he was a soldier. How he had longed to meet his girlfriend Jane and kiss her under that sun, as he did want to now. He and Jane were married now, and they had hoped their son would return home. That son was arrested. Sam's heart sunk in his chest. Arrested! He would smack some sense into him later.

Sam's comrade was sleeping in the stagecoach itself. Michael North was his name or something like that. Sam believed that Michael was not really this guy's name, but an alias to avoid hanging in Tombstone. Un-lucky b*****d was wanted for shooting the bartender for making the wrong drink for him.

I would have taken the damn drink! Samuel smiled as he thought this and heard rustling as his partner awoke. One thing he knew for certain was that this man had a temper and a horrible lust for women. If only I had gotten as many women as this man, I could have had me a wife before I drank my first whiskey! Samuel smirked again. The thought was too funny because whiskey had been a family favorite since he was young. You drank when you were pissed and you drank when you were gay. You drank all the damn time!

*Rustle*

"What time is it? Samuel, where's my bottle?" Michael asked from the interior of the stagecoach.

"One question at a time, my friend!" You were beginning to sound like your wife."

Michael poked his head out. His beard was long and Samuel thought it was going to touch the road.

"Not as bad as your mother. You poor soul! You almost smiled when I said that. You never smile Samuel."

Samuel remained firm. His face showed no amusement but deep down he chuckled.

"I'll smile when my son gets back from York. I fear the lynching already happened."

"Lynched for robbing banks? I don't get that."

Samuel looked down at him. "When the whole town thinks you shot some poor old lady during one of your many robbing's, possibly the child too, you'd be lynched too."

Michael looked shocked.

"Didn't they prove him innocent of that crap? He wouldn't have shot a little old lady!"

Samuel shook his head. "Even an accident can be misinterpreted."

A wagon was resting on the side of the road ahead and Samuel slowed when he saw them.

"That's odd." Michael said hiding his eyes.

"Especially out here. The last town was miles away."

Michael hid himself again and Samuel tried to steer away from the wagon. There seemed to be nobody near it and the horse was lying nearby in a pool of blood.

There was figure kneeling near the front of the wagon and he rose when Samuel got close enough. He drew his pistol and covered his face with a bandana.

"Give us your wagon! Give it to us now!" Several other figures appeared from the rocks and drew many other pistols. Samuel stopped the wagon and put his hands up. These men were frightened and clearly were attacked.

"What happened here? Why are you stuck out here?" Samuel asked calmly.

"Did you not hear me? We need your wagon!" The leader shot off his pistols and the horse jumped.

"Didn't you know it's rude to spook a horse, especially when you're asking a favor of the owner?" Sam's pistol was out in seconds and he shot the leader through the heart. The leader tumbled into the weeds. The others didn't shoot back because they were looking at the cliffs.

"Samuel, what is going on here?" Michael saw the dead body on the ground and ducked back in. Samuel jumped from seat and ran for cover. Arrows flew into the valley and landed all around the stagecoach.

Two more of the robbers were killed and Samuel fired a few shots toward the cliffs. The remaining robbers took cover behind their wagon and fired towards the cliff. Several bodies fell and hit the rocks ahead, their heads adorned with beautiful colored headgear. Indians! Of course it would be Indians. Sam had been warned about them, and he had known he would be crossing into their territory. Only now did they show up!

The Native Americans were chanting and the drums were piercing as they rumbled and bounced. Samuel fired and hit his mark a few more times before he noticed that Michael was right next to him. He was firing and attempting to stay hidden. The robbers had all died by this time and Samuel noticed that his horse had been hit by an arrow. Michael slumped to the ground and the last thing Samuel saw before he was hit on his head, was an angry face screaming and shouting in a language he didn't understand. He was hit again and he started to felt blood streaming down his face. He punched his attacker in the face and rolled over to jump on his feet. He fired his pistol once and a large body fell to the ground. The Indian attacker was armed with a club and he could see his own blood splattered on the hand fashioned handle. Michael's head had been hit a few times too and Samuel knew he would be out for a while. He never got the chance to help him though, because he was hit in the head again and this time it knocked him out cold.

He awoke to find himself in the ditch, just a few yards from the stagecoach. His body felt broken and battered and his face was definitely bruised. He noticed that Michael's body had been dragged into the ditch as well and his horses had been stolen.

"Damn! What the hell am I supposed to do now?" Samuel scratched his head and looked to the North. The road bended once it hit the mountains and Samuel knew the terrain would be tough. He didn't understand why the Natives had been so rough. He had heard that they could attack, but he didn't expect it to be that horrifying. The other bodies had been piled up and the other wagon owned by the men had been destroyed. Samuel looked up at the burning sun. He guessed it was about mid-day and they were bound to get a nasty sun burn. He walked over to Michael's body and dragged him over into the shade. His canteen was nearly empty and he drank ever so carefully. Michael might need a drink if he ever woke up. Hopefully he would.

Chapter 2

Samuel knew he had passed out when he was tapped on the shoulder. He looked up to see Michael staring at him and smoking a cigar.

"Morning Sam, hope you be willing to travel this morning."

There was a sharply dressed gentleman standing nearby. He wore a black suit and held a wooden cane in one hand. He smoked a cigar as well and he took his time as he inhaled. His beard was similar to Michael's, but it was well trimmed.

"He brings the finest cigars I've ever smoked but best of all, he brings horses that aren't dead yet!" Michael laughed and inhaled again. Tempting, that's what the cigar was. The man turned and extended his hand to help Samuel up.

"Need a little help friend? Maxwell is my name sir!" Sam got to his feet and tried to introduce himself. The man just laughed.

"No need for the formal from you sir! I know who you are. The war hero! Didn't you kill eight men with just you're bare hands? Didn't you strangle the confederate captain with your bare hands? Didn't the newspaper.......?"

Samuel smirked. "Those newspapers may have exaggerated a little bit. What brings you out here?"

Samuel accepted the cigar that was offered next and he inhaled.

"That's some good tobacco. Bet we wouldn't find that in town?" Samuel smirked again

"Not if you're poor as dirt or aren't man enough to smoke it! I'm from northern Arizona actually. I'm heading for Big Horse to settle some business."

Samuel nodded and exhaled. The smoke swirled above their heads.

"I'm headed to York. I'm not in the business of explaining why." Samuel heard Michael snoring. The poor man was passed out under a tree.

"You boys get robbed?" Maxwell pointed to the wagon. Samuel smiled.

"Our friends the Natives seem to have taken my horses." Samuel kept squinting as the sun was very bright.

"Natives? Yeah I suppose they have a right to protect their land. This place especially." Samuel glanced up at the cliffs.

"What's so special about a bunch of rocks?" He was curious now. This stranger kept glancing behind him as if he was nervous. Perhaps he knew that another attack was bound to happen.

"This is where ancestors were buried and rituals were performed. I suppose they kill to keep people off the sacred area." Maxwell checked his pocket watch.

"Maybe they kill to send a message. You walk into their territory and you don't come back. They left the bodies of the men that tried to rob me at first."

Maxwell looked disgusted. "That is the custom, although not too many travelers pass through here."

Michael woke up and shivered. "Are we getting the hell out of here or not? My a*s hurts and I need a drink."

Maxwell smiled. "You are certainly welcome to ride with me. I have comfortable seats inside."

"And if the Natives try to attack us?" Samuel finished his cigar and put it out under his foot. Maxwell had walked over to the coach and pulled out a shotgun.

"This should keep them away. If not, someone's getting their damn head blown off."

That seemed to convince Samuel and he and Michael boarded the carriage, which was driven by an elder gentleman. They sat across from Maxwell and talked about the town of York.

"Why are you going to that town?" Maxwell said as he motioned for the driver to move faster.

"I'd rather not speak about it. It's a private matter." Samuel was getting annoyed with Michael, who was snoring beside him.

"Your business is yours of course. I will not interfere. I do believe I heard that a young man is in custody there on a pending murder charge."

Samuel looked at him immediately with wide eyes. Then he relaxed. He needed to keep his cool.

"This young man put up quite a fight when he was arrested I hear. I hear he nearly tackled the sheriff." Maxwell snorted.

"That young man is taken care of. He won't be harming anyone anymore." Samuel bit his lip after he spoke. He was getting upset.

"Did you know he shot that poor old women in the head? The head?! How could a crippled monster do such a thing?" Maxwell lit up a cigar as he talked.

"Crippled?" Samuel grabbed his belt. His weapon was out in the open for Maxwell to see.

"That poor b*****d had his leg broken when he tried to jump from his horse I think." Maxwell filled the cabin with smoke.

"Crippled but strong I guess. His parents must be real proud." Maxwell looked right at Samuel as he said this. His hand was inching slowly towards his gun. Samuel knew this but didn't react.

"You know if whom we speak then. A boy with no respect for authority, no compassion for anybody but himself. I talked to the sheriff you see and when my mother died I was all alone. My brother died on the same say she did."

"What a tragedy." Samuel looked out to see the carriage stop.

"Your SON killed them you b*****d!!" Maxwell's gun was out in a flash but Samuel was quicker. A shot went just past his shoulder and into the wood of the seat behind him. He wrestled with Maxwell and punched him in the face, which dislodged the gun. Michael was punching now as he was woken by the fighting. He clubbed Maxwell in the face with the handle of his pistol and they all spilled out into the long grass once the door was opened. They punched only a few more times before each was facing the other with their guns drawn.

"You don't know he did it! He hasn't been proven guilty!" Samuel yelled.

"I'd be surprised if the lynching mob hasn't already gotten to him!" Maxwell fired again but missed.

"You don't want to hurt me! I need to see my son! I need to hear the whole story!" Samuel didn't fire.

"I'm about to receive closure! Once you're son hangs and I kill you, I'll be able to rest easy!"

Michael fired a shot that hit Maxwell in the arm. His scream was piercing and he fell to his knees. He tried to get up but fell again.

"I'd stay down if I were you! I'm not kidding!" Samuel fired a warning shot towards Maxwell and he stepped closer. Maxwell stopped moving and was completely still on the ground. Michael also started creeping towards the wounded man, but he was skeptical that he was dead.

"Your son won't last long. My family will be able to rest easily once you are dead! Your monstrous offspring will find his grave soon enough!" Maxwell's arm was soaked with blood and it hung to his side as he stood up. Samuel nodded at Michael. They wouldn't fire another shot. This man couldn't hurt them anymore.

Maxwell fell to the ground which surprised both men. An arrow stuck out from his back. A small group of Natives were moving in from the North. They were on foot, sneaking up to them as a quick pace.

"Run for the carriage! Go!" Samuel yelled as they ran to and boarded the carriage. Samuel took the reins and got the horses moving and several arrows whisked past his head. Michal fired several shots at their pursuers and a few of them fell to the ground. Once they were a good distance away, Michael jumped up and sat next to Samuel.

"Can we get a drink now? That was tense as all hell!" Michal was panting like a dog and his pants were stained with dirt and blood.

"Keep away from me with those dirty pants of yours. Yes, we can get a drink. There's a bottle of whiskey back there remember? Maxwell offered it to us and we refused because we were good Christian men who aren't ever going to drink a drop. That's a bullshit story considering lots of Christians drink." Samuel pointed to the cabin. He was thirsty too and couldn't wait to tilt his head back and feel the burn of good whiskey. His arms and legs burned with intensity and he knew he would be exhausted for days to come.

"My mother was a Catholic you see? She thought the drink was the scourge of the devil. I couldn't even go near it as a child, much less touch it." Samuel stopped the carriage long enough for Michael to retrieve the bottle. Michael took a nice long drink and sat back as Samuel drove.

"You going to share the wealth, or are you going to be an a*****e?" Samuel took the bottle and drank as well. Some of the drink spilled onto his shirt but he paid no mind to it. He was convinced that such a thing was bound to happen when your hands were shaking. For a while, the two men sat in silence. Michael glanced up at the mountains in the distance and noticed that the road appeared to be going from rough to smooth and trodden. A town must be nearby! Finally, there would be a saloon, a place to lay down his tired head and back. Maybe he could even get a woman or two. Samuel just looked straight ahead and didn't speak about this at all. He noticed the difference in the road but knew that the closest occupied settlement was at least ten miles away, maybe even farther than that. This knowledge had tricked him however, because a bank quickly came into view, and then another building.

"Yes, we finally have made it! This isn't York though right?" Michael was so excited; he nearly fell from his perch.

"York should be ten miles out yet. This town was not mentioned by the locals of Tombstone at all. They told me of all the towns I should run into, but this one didn't appear on any map." Samuel frowned at this. The town looked deserted. In most towns he had visited, people walked from one building to the next. People laughed and cried in the saloon and the got even louder at church.

"Where the hell is everybody? At least tell me they have drinks in this washed up place?!" Michael leapt from his seat and walked just past the horses.

"Forget about the drink! I saw movement up ahead, just beyond the bank!" Samuel's hand instantly went to his pistol on his belt. He wasn't taking any chances here. Something was definitely not right here! Michael started jogging towards the town and Samuel had to get the horses moving to catch up with him. Michael ducked behind a stone wall and drew his pistol.

"What did you see? What was it?"

"Just a shadow I think! I think someone's fixing to jump us!" Michael nodded in agreement and looked into the town. He noticed a shadow as well, moving inside one of the buildings. They could hear no noise as they looked on.

"Ghosts maybe? This place could be haunted?" Michael was clearly shaking as he spoke.

There was a small sound coming from the saloon. Organ music!

"Ha, I knew I could get a drink here!" Michael was up and running towards the saloon in seconds. Samuel sprang up and followed him closely, scanning the buildings with his pistol. The buildings in this town were well kept, but there were no other noises anywhere except for the saloon. The lights were on and people appeared to be dancing. Samuel stood up and holstered his pistol and Michael copied him. They approached the saloon and entered slowly. There was a grand party in progress. Men and women were dancing and joking around with one another. Three games of poker were being played out and frustrated players yelled in dismay as some other lucky soul beat their hand. Men were flirting with young women and many of them were dressed quite nicely. Samuel tipped his hat to those he made eye contact with. They of course just giggled at him.

"Bartender! Bartender!" Michael was seated at the bar already. Damn fool hadn't even been in here ten seconds. Samuel lit a cigar as he walked and adjusted his hat so it didn't nearly fall off when his head hit the chandelier. He was a tall fellow! He laughed at himself and joined Michael at the bar. Two drink were poured, they had ordered their favorite whiskey and the bartender spoke as if he was talking to children.

"You gentleman best be staying out of trouble now! This here party is for the newly elected mayor you know? I won't have any funny s**t going on around here!" Samuel just smiled and soaked in all the dancing and excitement. His cigar caused several people to cough and they turned to look at him.

"Good s**t, ehh mister?" A bigger man said as he held his beer in hand. Samuel nodded in response. The man just laughed at him intensely.

Michael started gulping down his drinks at lightning speed. The saloon had a weird feeling to it, although Samuel couldn't describe it. The air was thick with distrust and deceit. The strangers all around looked at him and then whispered to their neighbors.

"Michael, keep your head up and don't trust anyone you see. I feel sort of uneasy here." Michael nodded his approval of this statement.

The bartender had an evil look in his eyes that Samuel couldn't shake. Michael went back to his drink and winced as the whiskey burned his throat. The poker players were beginning to clear the tables and mingle with the women. One man remained seated at one of the tables and he smoked his cigar with a reverence not seen before. He wore a black suit and his tie with a crimson red. Samuel started to walk over to him and the stranger greeted him with his eyes.

"You have some nerve walking up to me without a deck of cards on you." His voice was very deep, and it caught Samuel off guard.

"Pardon me, I'm new here. I didn't know that was the law of the land." Samuel lit up another cigar.

"Around here, everything I say is the law of the land. You best be really careful when you're talking to me."

Samuel grinned at the man. "I thought a man like you was supposed to be respectable." Samuel reached up with his hand and pointed to the golden star on the man's chest. "A sheriff should know better than to gamble."

The sheriff looked up in surprise. He puffed on his cigar. He was clearly drunk too because he swayed back and forth in his chair.

"You think I care about being a good example, sir? You think I give a damn about anything you have to say? I'm a lawman and you wouldn't know the first thing good damn thing about being respectable! Get your damn face out of mine, you freak son of a b***h!" The sheriff rose and lumbered towards Samuel, ready to swing. Samuel simply backed away and the man fell to his knees. The smoke rising from his face was quite comical and Samuel almost laughed but he kept his mouth shut.

"You think you have what it takes to stop me?" The poor b*****d was nearly out of breath as his knees wobbled. Samuel smiled.

"It appears that you have stopped yourself."

Michael walked over and looked at the sheriff. His mouth was wide with disgust. "You see? This is why my mother warned me about the alcohol!"

"Come on, let the poor guy sleep. The floor is all he's sleeping with tonight."

Samuel walked over to the counter and sat down at the bar again. Someone entered the bar from the main entrance and walked among the dancers and then he walked up to the bar. This man was dressed in a tan leather vest, big old boots, and his hat's brim was wider than the gap between Samuel's front teeth. He ordered some whiskey and the bartender joked with him for a moment. He glanced over at Samuel a few times but didn't appear to be very interested in him at first. He was interested in the ladies, who walked by and winked at him several times. The bar started to empty at around this time and Samuel was searching for Michael. He was dancing with a gorgeous dame and she looked as she wanted to do more than dance. Michael was too drunk to notice these signals, which was very surprising considering many couples had paired up and left.

The man had stayed up at the bar and had not moved for quite some time. He ordered several more drinks, but the alcohol seemed to not affect him at all. He eyes scanned the crowd until he grew tired, then he took a sip of his whiskey. Samuel knew it was time to move on, so he moved closer to where the dancers were. He was very close to Michael, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's you and I have a talk, sir?" The man was standing so close that he could smell the cigars and whiskey the man had consumed that day.

"What would you want to talk about?" Samuel's hand reached for his pistol and his lips tightened around his cigar.

"I hear you were attacked on the road. I can get you safe passage through the cliffs, but you're sorry a*s has to come with me first." The man started to lead Samuel away from the party and up the stairs. They entered a small room that was very plain and they took seats facing each other. Samuel was very uncomfortable as the man just stared out the window and didn't speak very much. His gaze must have been focused on the square below. The beautiful ladies strutted there and their dresses were quite amazing.

"I heard about Maxwell. I'm sorry that I didn't kill that b*****d before he left here." The man said. "I knew he was trouble, coming in here and claiming he was after someone."

"The Natives took care of him. I knew he was going to shoot me and dump my body. He was here?" Samuel lit his own cigar.

"He was here about a day ago. He said he was looking for the father of the man that killed his family. That is you I would imagine." His stare was piercing as he sat rocking back and forth.

"I will not comment on my son's guilt or innocence. My business is my own. If I wanted random strangers knowing what I was doing all the time, I would go up to the mountains and scream it as loud as I can. I don't do it because quite frankly, I don't care about what nobody says about my son. He is a boy."

The man sat rocking and thinking.


"I the mayor of this godforsaken rock you just so happened to have crawled into. I don't appreciate you bringing your drunken friend into my bar. I will forgive you this time."

"Seems to me, this whole town is full of drunkards who spend more time drinking then they do fixing up the place."

The mayor shook. "The idea is to remain unseen. We want to drive visitors away from here because most people are killed by Natives when they try to leave this godforsaken place."

"So why not just send me back the way I came? It would be the easiest thing to do after all."

The smoke was beginning to fill the room now. The mayor opened the window wider.

"The path you rode in on is being watched by Natives. The path to the North, close to York, is being watched. You wouldn't be able to step out of this town without dying."

They both sat smoking for a minute before Samuel broke the silence. "You know why the Natives are like this? I know that they are not monsters but I need to know why they do this to people that cross into their land."

The mayor laughed. "Their ancestors fought and died there. I suppose they believe that their ancestors never really die and that they need protected from outsiders." He giggled.

"What is so funny? People are dead now because they passed through here. If that's what they believe then, we should leave this area. We have to respect what they wish." Samuel smiled when he said this, but panic welled up inside him.

"This is the land where my living has been made. You think we can just pack up and leave this valley? I can't just tell families that they must get up and leave, not when there is a chance they could die."

"This town is dying. How much food do you have here? I assume your last harvest wasn't very good." Samuel blew out a cloud of smoke. The mayor nodded. "Most of the farmers have left. They are leaving for the bigger towns and they are looking for more opportunities."

Samuel felt his heart sink in his heart. That wasn't much he could do or say to help the mayor. He didn't realize that shortly after he left this town, the Natives would storm the town and scalp him and several others. Samuel would be miles away before the attack happened and he would find out in his old age. For now, they looked at each other.

"How do you propose I leave this place?" Samuel put his cigar out in the ashtray.

"Well, there is a path that is traveled less and less as time goes on. The Natives watch the main rode. If you take this little-known road and you are armed well, you might be able to make it to the next town. After that, you should reach York."

"How did you know I was attacked on the road?" Samuel looked out the window and heard wailing of horses."

"Your horse awaits, sir. Word travels fast around these parts." The mayor shooed Samuel out of his office and led him to a waiting horse. "Take good care of her. The path is just behind the bank there. Why do you want to help your son? If he murdered that poor lady and child, he should hang."

Samuel tipped his hat and smiled. "My son is a part of me and I am a part of him. It makes sense that we stick together." A smile spread across the mayor's face and they thanked each other for the cigars.

Chapter 3

Samuel rode to the outskirts of town and pulled out his canteen. The wind pierced his skin with a cool gust and dust swirled around the horse. After he took a drink, He looked up to see Michael, sitting atop his own horse.

"You are going to forget about me, Samuel?" He yelled.

"I was just thinking about when you were going to show up? You get enough to drink over there?"

Michael laughed. "I got a little too much whiskey, I think. A few girls wanted me to sweep them off their feet and carry them to faraway lands."

"You didn't want that to happen? You could have made a very good husband." Samuel drank from his canteen again.

"I got a life to live. I can't settle down yet." Samuel rode up to Michael and tossed him a small canteen. They would both need as much water as they could drink. It was still very hot, and the dirt was beginning to swirl in the wind like a mini tornado.

"The mayor said this way should be safer. Once we get to York, I'm going to get my son and get the hell out of this area."

Michael trotted ahead of Samuel and the smell of rotten animal soon hit their nostrils like a train.

"What the hell is that? Smells like dead animal!" Michael covered his nose with a handkerchief.

"I don't want to know. Let's keep moving." Samuel knew Michael didn't see the rotting bodies on the left side of the path and he wasn't looking to tell him about them either. The Natives had been busy. No traveler was safe here and Samuel always clutched his pistol. He was taking no chances. He wanted to see his son alive. Michael produced another flask, which was filled with liquor.

"Too many drinks should kill a man." Samuel smiled. Michael was too busy staring into the bushes however. He noticed a trail of blood, flowing from the middle of the road, to the very edge of it. An overturned wagon was perched near the road and smoke poured from its burned corpse. The stench of death filled the air and burned corpses littered the field.

"Jesus, there seems to be no limit to suffering around here." Michael jumped off his horse and circled the wagon. He drew his pistol and approached cautiously. The fire was spreading to the grass nearby, due to the heat and wind.

"Look at this! This was a carriage carrying weapons!" Michael held up a burned box meant for gunpowder.

"Stay back! There might be more ready to blow!" Samuel backed up until he tripped over a body and his face ended up in the dirt. He noticed that the body was soaked in blood and its arms were missing.

"It's a soldier! It's a soldier!" The blue uniform was barely recognizable, but this man must have been killed by enemy fire. Samuel didn't think the Natives did this at first, as there were no clear signs of Native weapons or horses. Horses left hove prints and none surrounded the area. Only then did Samuel suspect a party of hijackers, since most of the cargo had been taken before the carriage was overturned. Natives would have let it all burn. These men looked familiar. Had they been in the bar at that last town? Had they been at the town square when the women were strutting their stuff?

"Samuel, someone is walking down the path toward us!" Michael fired a few warning shots and then took cover by the carriage. A few bullets slammed into the dirt of the path and the assailant came into view. His beard hung to his belt and his belt glistened in the sun. His eye patch hid his evil eye, and the black hole of a smile made our heroes shiver.

"Y'all better stop where you are or I'll blow your damn heads clean off! Stay where you are!" The stranger fires a few more shots before Samuel fires, hitting the man in the leg.

"Drop your guns boys! It will take a lot more than one bullet to stop me!" The man fires again but misses. He isn't able to stand anymore and hits the dirt. His gun falls into the ditch below and blood drips from his open wound.

"Do you think he's okay?" Michael asked.

"I don't give a damn if he is." Samuel and Michael slowly advanced and passed even more bodies along the way.

The man was crawling around, holding his chest. He fired a few more shots but only hit the rocks and sand in the distance. "Don't make me kill you! You take one more step and you will pay!" Samuel was close enough now and he pounced on the man. They wrestled in the grass, kicking up dust and

blood as they went. Once Samuel's fist landed a direct hit on the man's chin, the fighting ceased.

"What are you going to do with him? Leave him here and let him rot?" Michael was itching to see more death. Samuel simply picked up the limp body and started carrying it back to the horse.

"What are you doing with him?" Michael was scratching his head.

"You're right? I could leave him out here to die, but I'm not that kind of person. I should leave you here! I wouldn't be slowed much" Samuel mounted his horse after strapping the man to it. He started to ride away, and Michael had to scramble to get on his own.

"He wanted to shoot us! He should be left for the buzzards!" Michael shoots off a warning shot.

"You wouldn't shoot a good Samaritan, would you?" Samuel noticed that Michael was roaming at the mouth.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but we didn't kill him! The last thing we need is him slitting our throats when we sleep with our women."

"You mean when you sleep around with whoever you want? I have to listen to you complain."

"Oh yeah, you have one woman, which is not fun!"

"This man was a part of a scuffle that occurred before we got there. I want to know what happened to him."

Chapter 4

Samuel lit a cigar as he scanned the horizon. There wasn't anything ahead, just sand and dirt. The cactus was the only thing that broke this cycle, but that happened sparingly. Michael had fallen asleep, and was rocking back and forth atop his horse. The wind had picked up and Samuel could smell burning embers, although he didn't know where it was coming from. The howl of a wolf echoed through the valley! Samuel had been fighting off sleep for quite some time and the sun was just beginning to set off on the horizon. The night was an extremely dangerous time out in the wild. A cave would suit them well, if only they could find one. The Natives occupied most of the surrounding area, and he'd be damned if he ran into any of them in the dark! Then you'd have to find a light source. Luckily, Samuel had learned how to start a fire when he joined the Union Army. It didn't take too long and only needed a few items. His horse needed to eat as well, galloping all day and such. Damn he needed to eat too. His stomach was seriously bothering him at this point. Michael woke up here and there, cursing the flies that buzzed around him.

Finally, a river appeared. This was their chance to bathe and prepare to settle down to some grub. After giving Michael a push, Samuel took off his stained clothes and sunk below the cool water. It wasn't freezing, although he did feel weird while being in this area. The air was thick and the clouds overhead hung low. Then Samuel saw them, sitting and talking by a roaring fire. Natives. Samuel sunk below the water, hoping to remain unseen. He seemed to be down there forever, and the bubbles flowed from his mouth. He resurfaced and nearly screamed. There was a man standing there, watching him. This man was dressed in clothes crafted from pelts and materials Samuel knew nothing about. His hair was very long, hanging down to his shoulders. His teeth weren't straight, neither were his fingers. He smoked a long cigar and laughed very loudly.

"Get your clothes on and come with me." His voice was silky smooth and Samuel thought he would drown. He got out of the water and picked up his clothes, which he had soaked in the water for some time. Michael had also gotten dressed and his skin had nearly changed color! The dirt and grime had cleared from his face and he looked quite different. The man that had greeted them was sitting by his family near the fire. Man, that tobacco smelled amazing. Almost every person had a pipe, and it was a glorious sight! They were offered a seat by the fire and tobacco, which of course they accepted. Once they had sat in silence for a while, the man introduced himself.

"I am Mo. I oversee this part of the valley." Samuel and Michael both shook his hand and introduced themselves.

"What are you doing here on my land?" Mo took a long hit from his pipe and smiled.

"Just passing through. I am attempting to get to the town of York in one piece." Samuel loved this tobacco and inhaled deeply.

"This land is safe for you luckily. If you were to travel a few miles east, you would have certainly been killed. The neighboring tribe does not take kindly to outsiders." Michael laughed a little. "We found that out earlier." Mo did not smile or react to this very much; he just sat there in silence.

"I bailed my son out of jail and I hope to collect him once I get to town. We were attacked along the road by this other tribe and we nearly lost our lives. Why did they attack us?"

Mo laughed, and then his face returned to its neutral state. "Many of their ancestors are buried on that land and they believe that the spirits of said ancestors are still there on that land. They are very protective of the borders."

"If we were to go around this land, could we avoid these attackers?" Michael jumped at the opportunity to ask this, but Mo was not amused.

"Your trip would take much longer than you intend it to. The shortest road to York is the one that continues to run along the edge of the cliffs."

Samuel looked into the fire deeply. For a moment he thought about home, the fireplace, and the home cooked meals. He started to feel drowsy, but didn't want to sleep in front of strangers. He noticed that some of the men looked into the fire with an intense respect, something Samuel had never seen before. Mo noticed this and got up and seated himself beside Samuel.

"You truly believe that your son is innocent? Even if he really did murder those people?" Mo smiled but Samuel jumped.

"It doesn't matter if he is innocent or not! Family sticks together and if he stupid a*s actually did murder those folks, then I will be standing there at his hanging and his funeral. Your question makes me shudder! What would you do if one of your own kin was in that situation?"

Mo shrugged but still had a confident response. "I suppose I would try to help them if I could, but there is no guarantee that I could help or do anything that would make a difference."

Samuel took a long hit from his cigar. "Being family means sticking to your family. You only understand this once you have a family of your own. Being a father, I'm not afraid to stand up for what I had a hand in creating."

Michael had fallen asleep by the fire and Mo laughed at him for quite a long time. "Does he do that often?"

"He does it only when the important matters are being discussed." Samuel noticed that many of the other members of the tribe had left the fire and were mingling among the tents. He saw mother and child running from here to there, and fathers comparing bows and belts. This place was peaceful and quiet, a safe haven from the violence and destruction of the frontier.

She Puts a Cut Lemon Next to Her Bed And This is Why This is Something Everyone Should Try

Dinner was served, which consisted of venison and corn. The food filled the stomach of Michael as he inhaled it in a matter of moments. Samuel and Mo ate slower, as they continued to discuss sleeping arrangements for the evening. A tent would be prepared for them and Mo and Mo would escort them to York himself, as he felt his men could handle another attack. That is, if one came at all. The fire died eventually, and Mo decided he would turn in for the evening, but that the boys needed to be up early so they could avoid an enemy patrol. The opposing tribe patrolled the very edge of their land in the morning, and they seemed to be even more violent during that time. Mo prepared the horses and also helped in the preparation of breakfast. As they sat eating, they heard screaming off in the distance and Samuel's hand went straight to the handle of his gun. Mo jumped up from his seat and scanned the horizon with his near perfect vision. The screams intensified and then they died out.

"They are close but if we start moving out now, they will have a hard time catching up to us! We must make it back to the road!"

Chapter 5

Once everyone had mounted up, the few warriors that had decided to come along surrounded Michael, Samuel, and Mo. They found the road easily and encountered nothing but the rocky cliffs for miles. The wind picked up immensely and the howl produced by said wind was quite terrifying. Mo was smoking, which at this point he had consumed roughly five cigars. It was very quiet, almost as if only the spirits could see them. Mo halted the group and looked off into the distance. He sensed that there was something near and he pulled out a rifle. He aimed at the nearby bushes and fired one single shot. A man fell out of the bushes and he held his leg, crying out in agony. Mo told his men to collect this man, which they did in just a few moments. His clothes were tattered and his face was caked with mud.

"Who are you? We are not taking any s**t here!" Mo's face contorted and he appeared to be evil in that one moment. His eyes flashed up and down, examining this man quickly.

"This is the wounded man that arrived with us yesterday!" Samuel jumped up and tried to get between the chief and the man, and the man spoke in a raspy voice.

"My name is Jasper you son of a b***h! Get your hands off me and back off me!" He held a pistol in his arms and was pushing Mo backwards at a great speed.

"We provided you help when you needed it! Why would you hurt us now?" Mo's hand was on the handle of his knife and he prepared to strike."

"You sons of b*****s destroyed my caravan! You killed my kin! I'm going to return the favor now! No, get your hands off me!" Mo continued to hold Jasper by the shoulder. Other men started to move in to help in the restraining.

"You really think you are going to walk away from this one? You will certainly get your head cut clean off and I will bring it back to your mother and parade it through your home town!" Mo had drawn his knife now and was holding the edge of the blade against the skin of Jasper's chest. Samuel and Michael had also drawn their pistols. Jasper dropped his gun and Mo punched him directly in his nose.

"If you ever threaten my family again, yours will miss you." He walked away briskly and asked for his pipe. Samuel stood smoking and smiled.

"We saved your skin and you nearly lose yours? That's a crying shame."

"I only wanted to take away from them what I have lost!" Jasper holstered his gun and frowned.

"Revenge is not worth it my friend. You may think someone needs to die but pulling the trigger won't always make your problems go away."

Jasper was getting looks from the tribal members that could have killed a weak man.

"Do they hate me?" He looked as though he would cry.

"We were only worried about you my friend. No hard feelings from me." Samuel offered Jasper a drink from his canteen and a cigar, something that was accepted quickly. Samuel studied Jasper's face and noticed that he had small splotches of blood here and there. When Samuel had handed him over to the medic in that small village owned by Mo, he hadn't noticed that much blood. What had he been getting into on his own?

"Need to clean your face? Looks like you took quite a spill." A handkerchief was extended toward the dirty man.

"Oh no, that alright. I'll just bathe in the next pond or stream we come across. They say water is good for the sins and all. I'm figuring I could use a good cleansing after what I've been through." Jasper puffed on the cigar and glanced at Mo, who did not return the gesture.

"Something wrong with that Native fellow? I wasn't going to kill him or nothing."

Samuel wanted to ask a question so badly. "First, how did you get so far ahead of us? I left you in the medic's tent?"

Jasper only looked at the ground. "I was trying to get away from these here violent folks. They have slaughtered everyone I know. I'd be damned if I was going to stick around and get killed too." Samuel shivered when he heard this. Jasper was such an unlucky fool.

"Look I'm sorry that your kin are dead. But in a way, you don't have to worry. These folks have taken care of us so far, guarding us and such. Why, I think we got ourselves surrogate kin."

Jasper clearly didn't like where this was headed. "I'm never going to think of THEM as kin. These people kill when you least expect them to. They killed the kids! The KIDS!"

"Alright, I know that's terrible and all. Not all Natives are bad. Every one of them is different, just like you and I. I think what you're missing is a bit of the proper perspective. Begging your pardon but, I'm going to be frank with you, white folks aren't that great either. You know how many people we kill but just laugh about it? Of course, you can't fathom it! But you know what, here I am, living and breathing!"

Jasper decided he wanted to try to ride a horse, even though his leg was being a pain. Mo granted this request, but Jasper had to ride at the back of the pack. Everyone smoked and talked about the path ahead, their families, or the difficult weather the valley was supposed to be receiving. Samuel was the first one to fall asleep while riding his horse, which of course everyone laughed at. Michael remained quiet and didn't speak throughout much of the trip, only speaking when spoken too. He seemed to be scanning the cliffs with his eyes as if searching for their unknown assailants. It took a while to reach the next water source, which was a large oasis located just a mile off the road. The group couldn't wait to reach it, as their canteens were very dry by this time. Mo had noticed movement off in the distance and had ordered a few of his men to watch it. Dust had been kicked up by the wind, so it was difficult to make out the approaching shapes.

"They are watching us. They know we are getting closer to their hidden water source. We must be cautious" Mo always loved to keep his strongest allies closest to him. It was better to have a strong man kill the enemy, than dishonor yourself by having an unknown rat kill you.

Once the oasis was in sight, the men noticed a large lake connected to the flowing river. As soon as the horses stopped by the edge, he ordered the men to refresh and hydrate themselves quickly.

"Be prepared to draw, shadows approach from the South!"

In time, these strange shadows became horses galloping at full speed towards our group. The riders were fair-skinned, blonde boys and they saluted Mo. Mo returned this gesture.

"Cal, my old friend!" Mo was actually very excited, but he remained perched on his horse. One of the men stopped next to Mo and extended his hand.

"You fast Mo, you know that?" His face was near perfection and so was his voice. His long hair nearly blocked out his eyes.

"We needed to move quickly. I am escorting these men to safer territory." He pointed to Samuel and Michael, who remained silent. "We almost mistook you for our enemy."

Cal only smirked. "Lucky for you, we killed a few of those b******s for you. They ambushed us, but nobody got hurt."

"Very fortunate for you, but I am not relaxing yet. We still have many miles to tread and the thought of making camp terrifies me." Mo took a long sip from his canteen. He looked like a panting dog when he spit the words out.

"York seems to be a pretty popular place. I hear the townsfolk are riled up because a mob is about to form outside the jail. I guess murderers are being held there." Cal smoked as he talked, and his words were slurred. Samuel gasped and nearly collapsed.

"My son is being held in that town. His guilt has been paid for. I know those folks must be itching to string him up but I can't let it happen."

Cal laughed. "Your son could be guilty. What if your son really did kill those people and you're about to grant him freedom that don't necessarily belong to him?" Cal watched Mo whisper to his men but did not stir

"If the Lord knows my son is guilty and knows he must be punished, let his will be done. I am not going to stand in the way of such justice. I need to see my son, no matter the damn cost."

Mo turned his horse around and went down to the river's edge. He dismounted to fill his canteen and guzzled the water.

"Your son is a good man. I met him on our land when he came through with his gang. I knew nothing about his past deeds, only what he told me. He used to work the fields as a small boy, then he joined the military, and after that the story ceases. He knows nothing other than pain, so he says."

"Well yes, his mother died of influenza." Samuel said quickly.

"Lots of death at home and the battlefield. Tell me, do you two not fear the spirits that follow you? Death seems to accompany you wherever you go. Did it not occur to you that your son has been shaped and molded into death? Death spreads more death."

"My son is a good man! He couldn't have done this!" Samuel started to reach for his pistol. Cal stopped his desperate hand.

"Even the greatest of men have to accept death. Some people do what they can to cope. Some drink their lives away, some murder, some abandon their families. You, you do not understand death."

All at once, everyone started pointing to the water and screaming as loud as they could. Many of the men were spitting out the water they were drinking. A body had drifted to the surface of the lake and was bobbing up and down. Only the back and shoulders of the corpse were visible, but the skin was dried up and blood poured from many areas, such as the nose and mouth.

"What witchcraft is this?" Samuel yelled as he prepared to fire his weapon.

"This body was dumped a few days ago. It has decomposed quite a bit, but I'd say he was shot." Mo shivered as he said this because he knew this fellow had once been a member of the son's gang. There was no denying that he had been shot in the chest!

"Why it's Rico! My son grew up with this man! They were practically born on the same day!" Samuel checked the corpse's face to be sure. It was definitely Rico.

"How do we know that he wasn't killed by that tribe? One of his own men could have killed him in a dispute!" Cal examined the body and nearly lost his breakfast.

"My son wouldn't have killed his best friend like this." As Samuel said this, he noticed a knife on the ground. It had clearly been used, as the dried blood was clearly visible on the blade.

"It appears a fight broke out. A knife and gun were involved. Maybe Rico pulled a knife on your boy and he had to take him out." Mo walked back to his horse and grabbed a long cloth out of his satchel. He walked over to the knife and, being careful not to disturb the blood, wrapped it up in said cloth.

"I think we will need to hear your son's side of the story. It may lead somewhere. Let's get out of this shithole." Mo nearly dropped the knife but placed in back in the satchel and mounted his horse. He couldn't get the sight of that body to leave his mind.

Chapter 6

The wind kicked up the dust for several hours, which caused the group to cough and shiver. The cliffs had turned into what seemed like mountains, as they reached for the sky. Mo had given out some food, jerky and potatoes, and had sent scouts ahead to check out the upcoming terrain. Cal's men had of course joined the party to offer protection for Samuel and Michael. The sun burned skin and dried mouths, but it didn't cause much grumbling. In fact, most of the men had been talking and laughing, discussing their families and what they hoped to do after this quest was over. Several men wanted to go look for gold in California, while others wanted to return to their wife and babies. Samuel thought about the mob that was to be forming in York. He son was probably going to be lynched soon, and his heart sank. He was a father, but couldn't be a father in this moment. He knew he had to hurry to York and meet with him as soon as could.

"York is not too far now, Samuel! We only have to find a certain bridge and we are there!" Mo seemed ready for a well-deserved rest. They had encountered a small dust storm earlier in the day that had left many of them tired.

"I need a drink, my throat is too dry!" Michael had been complaining for quite some time now and several of the men had offered him their canteens. "Not that kind of drink! I need my whiskey!"

He had fallen asleep, which had been very fortunate. Mo rode next to Samuel for quite some time and they talked about the body.

"When I first met your son and his men, they seemed on edge, but none of them were harmed. I suppose some of them had cuts on their faces and arms, which we tried to heal as best we could. We sent them on their way the next day, offering the same protection we offered you. They denied this, which seemed to be their mistake." Mo was smoking and he offered Samuel a pipe.

"Tona wouldn't just kill Rico like that. I think Rico must have lost his mind. Maybe they were attacked on the road and he had just snapped."

"Many people are attacked on this road and are never heard from again. They are very lucky if they have made it out of this valley alive." Mo thought about the burial of Rico. They had done his the honorable service of burying what remained of his body, but Mo knew his soul would not be resting after the experiences he probably went through. Prayers had been said, both in English and Mo had also said prayers in his own tongue. They had been traveling for a while now and bridge should be nearby now, maybe a few miles down the road. They should only have to camp for the night, and then reach York the next day.

"I need to reach the town before those people harm my son. If they touch him, I don't know if I will be able to restrain myself."

"I will get you there. You can bet on that." Mo looked off into the bushes and noticed movement yet again. This time he knew it was not friendly because he noticed a bow being held by someone running through the bushes.

"Look, off to the right!" The entire group stopped and upholstered their weapons. "Come on out, you b******s! Show yourselves to my gun!" Mo paced his horse back and forth in front of the group. Nothing moved for the longest time.

"Come out! I will fire upon those bushes and flush you out!" Mo fires a warning shot that shakes the bushes violently. No bodies fell out and there is no noise.

Several other gun fire and the bushes are ripped apart. Nobody is standing behind them.

"What did you see?" Samuel scratched his head.

"Someone is out there! We must remain vigilant! Keep your guns up!" They rode for several miles without incident, until they reached a wide canyon. The bottom of the canyon was filled with water and it was a long drop.

"There is no way across! How are we going to do this?" Michael was furious in this moment. Samuel thought he missed the women in town, but he would have to wait.

"There is a way across. Follow me and do not delay!" The group followed me along the edge of the sheer cliff and couldn't wait to get away from the edge. It was very nauseating to sit atop this giant chasm, and many men complained of sickness.

"You will be fine! Press on!" Mo simply smoked on his cigar and guided his horse around the rocks and holes in the weird terrain. A giant waterfall was ahead and the men were amazed at its size and stature.

"There is a way down over here! Quickly....." He was shot as this moment. He froze in place and held his leg, screaming in pain. Several figures appeared from the bushes and fired their rifles. Nobody was killed thankfully and the entire group returned fire. Samuel crawled away from the battle and stood by the edge of the cliff. Two men with head-dresses approached quickly and loaded their guns. Two quick shots put them both down. A stinging sensation ran through Samuel's leg and he collapsed instantly. He crawled through the mud and blood only to see Mo get shot once more. Cal was being dragged through the mud by two strong men and he had apparently blacked out. Michael was being hit over the head over and over again as blood poured from an open wound on his head. Samuel attempted to stand but was hit by a massive body. He felt himself falling straight down to an unseen ground. The water from the falls hit him in the face and he nearly choked on it. The heavy warrior landed several hits to Samuel's jaw before landing in a massive mound of rocks, which certainly shredded his body instantly. Samuel hit the water with so much force, it knocked the wind out of him. He struggled to remain at the surface as it felt like hands were pulling him downward. The mighty river carried him for what seemed like hours, though it had only been about an hour before he drifted ashore.

Chapter 7

He felt the waves rocking him back and forth as he woke up surrounded by the sheer walls of the cliff. The sun burned his eyes and he cursed out loud when he saw the wound on his leg. The water was bleached red with his blood, and he was certain he would bleed out before help would arrive. He pulled himself from the water and tore a piece of his shirt off before dividing it again. He then wrapped his leg in this cloth to at least stop the blood flow. He needed to find shelter from the sun and the elements and he noticed that the sun was just beginning to rise. He must have been asleep all night, which meant he hadn't experienced the horrible sensation of being alone at night without a fire. He heard the galloping of horses nearby and scrambled to the wall. Maybe the enemy was searching for survivors. He was certain he heard the Native language, which he himself did not fully understand. He saw a very small hill, which allowed for folks to descend the cliff safely. Unfortunately, it was being used at the moment by a group of warriors. Samuel's hand reached for his pistol, but he realized that it was gone. It must be miles downriver by now. The strangers approached quickly, scanning the water with their eyes. Now he knew they were searching for him and he would certainly be tortured or killed, as he was on the wrong side in their eyes. The leader noticed him and leapt from his horse. He yelled in his language and this is what he said: "I found him! We must dry him off!"

Samuel was wrapped in a blanket and was led to a horse. Once he had mounted, he passed out instantly. He had visions of his mother, his child, and his homestead. Most of all however, he thought of his death. He thought of blackness and of heaven. He knew he wasn't truly there, because this was a dream and you can wake up from dreams. He was awoken by his lowering from the horse, and several men leading him into a camp. He was made to sit by the fire and relax. A young man with long hair sat across from him and he smoked on a long pipe.

"My father welcomed you to our home and now I see why. You are a strong b*****d. Don't worry about that bullet. We dug it out."

Sure enough, Samuel could feel that the bullet had been removed and his leg was only sore now.

"You have courage, I like that about you. My father could see it."

Samuel looked around and was still quite tired. His vision blurred from time to time, and he felt ready to dream again.

"You're Mo's boy aren't you? Why, you look just like him!" Samuel could hardly speak. His throat hurt and his lungs burned. The stranger simply nodded in reply and continued to cook over the fire.

"My father respected you. He made that clear before he died. My enemies are satisfied with his blood and the conflict between our tribes is finished." Samuel's heart sank once again. Mo had truly cared for his safety, and there was nothing he could do now but reflect on his memory.

"My father's spirit will always be close to me and you as well. We have admiration for you."

"Why would you have respect for me?" Samuel shook in the cold and his breath circled around his head.

"Your dedication to your son is honorable and needs to be commended. It cannot be honored if you do not reach York."

"That fall should have killed me. What happened to the other guy?"

"His remains floated far from here I'm sure."

"My name is Tic. I will see to it that you reach your destination, even if you die." The two men exchanged a handshake and Samuel felt quite at ease for the first time since leaving that town behind.

"Tell me, why are your people at war with the rival tribe? What happened?"

Tic looked very pale after Samuel asked this, but his face remained optimistic.

"That is a long tale, my friend. I'm afraid I'm not up for telling such a heart-breaking tale."

Samuel reached for a bottle of whiskey and started to guzzle the burning liquid down. "Not even if I offered you a drink? What that energize your memory?" They both laughed, and Tic agreed.

"My father used to have another son. He ran away, so I do not know of his current state. He was truly a majestic creation, proud and strong. One day, he met this girl, a beautiful Native woman. They fell in love too quickly and my father caught wind of this relationship. He told them that they should separate because it would not be healthy for them to never see one another. The real reason was, my father hated her father, the rival chief, Packwan. Packwan agreed that this relationship could never work, because my father and he did not see eye to eye on various matters. The couple was separated, and the woman went mad with love-sickness. She begged her father to allow her to see my brother, but he refused. The woman killed herself then, by jumping off the great cliff. Packwan was furious and he blamed Mo for allowing my brother to ever go near his daughter. So, they feuded for many years."

Samuel sat in complete silence. "You see now why I must see my own son? He is very precious to me as well and I don't want to lose him."

Tic smiled and smoked his pipe. "My brother could be dead for all I know. He ran away in his grief. My father never truly forgave himself for losing his son in that way. I only hope you will never experience that in your life."

The men ate until they couldn't eat anymore, and they decided it was best to get an early start in the morning. Tic gave Samuel his own private tent away from the other men and gave him a loaded rifle and a large deer-skin blanket. It was the most comfortable thing Samuel had ever touched and he drifted off to sleep almost immediately. A few hours of sleep were interrupted when he heard a scream in the middle of the night. He grabbed his weapon and bolted into the center of the camp. He noticed that nothing was out of place, or at least at first it appeared that way. He noticed that Tic was sitting by the fire, his arms crossed, and his eyes were fixed on the canyon walls.

"What is it? What has happened?" Samuel brought the rifle down to his side.

"The enemy has attacked a group of travelers on the road. They are becoming more active at night."

"Why the hell would they do that? Don't they know what sleep is?" Samuel was nearly out of breath as he spoke.

"They search for something or someone. I hear them speak in a tongue I understand. They search for a white man. One of the victims of the attack must have escaped."

Just then, they heard frantic breathing coming from just beyond the camp's borders. Almost every gun was loaded at once and the breathing intensified. A man dressed in over-alls jumped into the center of the camp and men had to stop him from fainting.

"They come for me! Can you save me? They come for me!" The man's head was covered in his own blood.

"Quickly, douse the lights! Put out the fire!" Tic ordered his men to do this and they did it very quickly. The entire camp was dark within a moment, which was very lucky. Within moments, a group of heads peeked over the side of the cliff. The enemy was searching the canyon for this poor man! Luckily all they saw was darkness. They turned and galloped away on their horses. Later, Tic would explain that they had been cursing as they rode away.

They made sure this man was okay and he said that his name was Jed. His entire family had been gutted up there on the top of the cliff. He had managed to roll into the bushes and remained undetected until he could make another move.

"It's lucky for you that they were not carrying bows. They could have shot you in an instant." Tic was on edge for the remainder of the night. He kept his gun close and his men closer than ever before.

"You know what you find out about a killer? He doesn't give a damn about your family! He just wants you dead! He killed my god-damn b***h and my god-damn daughter!" Jed was clearly not sane, so he was moved into a separate tent so that he could be surveyed by the experts. By the time everyone got to sleep, nobody had slept at all. Most of the men tried to keep their heads up, but drifted to sleep as they rode their horses. The terrain became extremely rocky and rough, and the horses began to slip and slide on the rocks. Samuel could feel the wound in his leg, as it burned extremely. He cried out in pain several times as his bandage was changed.

"You must hold still! I know it hurts!" Tic had been very patient up till this point, but after having to change it many times over, he was starting to get tired of performing the chore.

"I cry manly tears you know?" Samuel laughed, wincing as he was made to stand up again.

"The only thing manly about that is that it gets to end!" Tic guided Samuel to his horse and then mounted his own. It had started to rain late in the afternoon, and it was very clear that it was going to be a nasty storm. They ground decided to huddle in a small cave that they had discovered, which was unoccupied luckily. Jed was of course confined to the back of the cave for his safety, and he started to act more civilized, which was a massive surprise for the group.

"I apologize for my crazed behavior earlier and I know it must have scared most of you." He sat down by the fire and was offered a drink, which he quickly accepted.

"You need not worry, my friend. We know that you have suffered a great loss and we do not judge you for it." Tic extended his hand and it was shaken.

"They came out of nowhere. It was like they knew exactly where we were for miles. I cannot explain how terrified I still am of those Natives." Jed shivered as he spoke.

"This Native will not hurt you. That is a promise." Tic offered smokes to all of the men and then spun stories from his youth. After a while, dinner was prepared. They had shot several birds and had captured several small mammals, which provided a small feast for the evening. They even had leftovers the next day, which was very fortunate.

"Tomorrow, we must make it as far as the Greatest Plateau. Then we should be able to cross one more river before we reach York."

"This has been quite a long trip for you all, has it not?" Jed asked.

"It has, it has. It should be over soon."

The group talks for a while before turning in for the night. The tents were nearly lifted from the ground and more nails were used to restrain their unpredictable movements. The wind howled through the few trees that were present in the valley, and the rain started soaking into some of the tents.

In the morning, the group awoke very early and mounted up. They traveled for a few miles before they come across a horrific sight. A horse was laying on the side of the road in a pool of its own blood. Tic was about to tell the group to go around it and not look, but the horse actually started to move! Its stomach parted and a man crawled from the innards of the poor creature.

"Stay back! I won't hesitate to end you right here and right now! You back off me now!" He held out his pistol and fired a shot into the air. Tic put a bullet into his leg immediately. Everyone looked up at him in amazement.

"I've had quite enough if that bullshit, thank you." They prepared a horse for this man and draped him over the saddle after dressing his wound.

"Why did you just shoot a man like that?" Jed scratched his head in amazement.

"It was either him or me! I will not die like my father, but I will embrace his memory with my own life! Now do you wish to sit here and discuss it further, or would you like to actually accomplish something here today?"

Jed simply told his horse to move and did not utter another word. The road was quite pleasant ahead and the group chattered among themselves at length. The man was still knocked out by the time they reached a long tunnel-like structure formed over the centuries in the rock. As everyone passed under it, it appeared to that many men had scribbled their names into the rock's underbelly over the years, which caused several our own men to do the same thing. Tic simply shook his head at this site and laughed.

"Are you boys ready to move on yet? I'm sure your horse does not appreciate your feet digging into its back." Tic hated the dark and didn't want to be here till night-fall.

"Hey, look at this!" Michael yelled. Michael, who had been riding silently for days now allowing his wounds to heal, had noticed a cross in the dirt. It was standing straight up and it looked like a grave marker. Tic instantly ran to his side and noticed this as well.

"It appears to be a grave, and fairly fresh I would imagine. The dirt has just been moved." He noticed that there was something shining in the dirt, just below the base of the cross. He bent down to retrieve it, but pulled from the dirt a whole human arm! It was nearly completely decomposed and it smelled of rotten flesh. The men reacted the way you would expect, some losing their lunch and other backing away.

"What the hell? Are you serious right now? How could this happen?" Michael was hysterical. He collapsed to the ground in a hurry.

"Someone help him up! Do not touch the grave! Do not curse yourselves!" Tic went straight for his canteen and poured water over his hands.

"What the hell is this voodoo?" Tic noticed a shiny coin on the ground and picked it up to examine it. It was a very shiny coin and it caused him to pocket it without thinking. Then he noticed another on the ground. Then another, and so on. The rest of the men started to find coins. They were everywhere!

"How did we not noticed these before? Michael yelled.

"Because we found a damn dead body that's why!" Samuel responded.

Tic had pocketed many coins at this point and he stopped suddenly. "Wait, empty your pockets! Empty them now! Put them down!"

"Oh, but I haven't gotten enough yet!" Michael threw them on the ground in frustration.

"We must leave this area immediately! Have you not heard the screaming in the background there?" In fact, nobody had. The howl of the wind was the only thing they heard.

"Tic, what the hell is going on here?" Michael wanted to cry over his lost coin.

"Be quiet everyone! Listen to the wind!" Now indeed there was a sound floating over the top of the rocks. It was a flute, a very haunting sound floating from its design. A small figure walked up out of a small cavern near the grave. This figure wore a long robe, like the kind you would see on a monk. He played the flute and silently crept up to the grave, giving it a bow of respect. The song made many of the men weep, as it was very somber and beautiful. When the music finally stopped, the man's face was revealed. He had a patch over one eye and his forehead bore a massive scar. He spoke with such clarity and precision when his eyes met those of the intruders.

"What in the name of Jesus Christ are you doing in my neck of the desert?" He looked very calm, but his voice showed his was angry.

Tic spoke first. "We are just passing through good sir. We did not mean to disturb you here in your humble living quarters."

The monk barely moved when he spoke, he simply winked. "Most people that enter this canyon bring some kind of gift for the Lord. You have a gift for Jesus? If not, get the hell out of here!"

"A man of the Lord should not speak like you do. If you want a gift, ask nicely." Samuel smiled when he said this.

"Fine, PLEASE give the Lord a gift, or PLEASE get the hell out of here!" The monk still did not stir, he eye gazed into the soul of every man present.

"Is this optional? We wish to reach the town of York sometime before we become old and sickly." Tic grew impatient very quickly and he was determined to leave as soon as he was able.

"You must pay the fee, or risk a long and extensive lecture on how to put a bullet in some fool's face." Tic drew his pistol and pressed it against the monks head.

"Not if I give the lesson first, you dark son of a b***h! This here is my lecture and you got about thirty seconds before I put this class in session." Samuel and Michael also drew their pistols and were prepared to fire.

"Well now, seems to me like the man of the Lord gets a one way ticket to hell." Michael grinned and his golden tooth shone in the sunlight.

"You know nothing of hell! I lost everything before you arrived here! My poor wife is buried there and you rip her arm off? You ought to be the folks going to hell in the first place! All I have left is this treasure and you would steal from me?"

Tic fired a warning shot at the ground near the Monk's feet. Then, he hopped down from his horse and walked straight up to the frail old man. He knelt before the preacher's feet and said a prayer, which the other men could not hear.

"Do my ears deceive me? He prays for the soul of his father? How did this come to be?"

"My father was shot and killed. I need to escort these men safely to the town of York, so that they can reach a boy that is doomed to be killed. I pray that my father's soul is at rest."

The preacher seemed to be satisfied with Tic's prayer and allowed him to pass. He tried to ask the other men for prayers, but most just shoved their guns in his face and moved on.

"I suppose one prayer is worth as much as many more." The monk took a lantern in his hands and started to lead the group into the cave system.

"We must be very careful down here! Watch your step and don't touch anything! That's means you b*****d!" He was talking specifically to Michael here, who had been hugging a statue of a fair maiden. "Why do I always invite drunks into my cave?"

The cave path twisted and turned, and it was quite a beautiful scene. Shadows bounced off the walls and blue light illuminated the many painting and scratching's in the wall. It was like a trip to the Vatican, only on a smaller scale. The paintings depicted events from Christianity and Islam, and were so plentiful they nearly caused you a headache. When the group rounded one corner, they were greeted with a giant altar. It was like an altar at a grand church, featuring a large, life-sized figure of the crucified Christ hanging above its decorated table. There were several crypts lining the wall, which held the remains of monks that had come before.

"My friends have all died. It is only I that remains to protect the vast wealth left behind by those who fled when the Natives attacked."

"Why don't you just take the gold and leave? You have horses and you ought to use them before they die as well." Michael asked this while trying to steal a golden vase. The monk only looked at him coldly.

"My place is here with my brothers. I will not leave them to rot. I will lie next to them in death. Sir, when you die in the church, you're body sleeps within God's house."

"I didn't think God's house would be in Native territory." Michael snickered.

"God is within them, as well as their houses. They know not he walks with them."

"Is this how you make them see God, inviting them into his house only to have them fork over gold so that they can look upon his face?"

"That money goes to further his message of hope and peace! Have you not been in the presence of the Lord before in his house? The church asks for only what the person can give, if they even want to give it up!"

The monk turned and walked down a separate corridor and everyone followed.

"The tunnels will get smaller and it may be harder for some of you to fit through. You may lose a few buttons along the way."

They wandered through caverns and found fascinating waterfalls as they neared the exit. The monk decided that he would lead from the back of the pack for a while. He grabbed a fresh lantern, lit it, and told the group to follow the path to the exit.

Chapter 8

"If I do not follow you out, know that I wish you well. May the Lord bless all of you!" He did follow everyone for a while, but soon disappeared altogether. He must have turned back when nobody had noticed him.

"Where do we go now? The path is incredibly dark ahead!" Michael shivered in the cold breeze produced by the wind bouncing off the cave walls.

"Keep moving forward! Don't stop moving!" Tic had grown tired of the dark and pushed the group through the dimly lit corridors.

"The exit is up ahead! I see light!" Indeed, light was dimly shining ahead which caused the group to sprint forward. There was stumbling, but that was expected.

"Do not fear the light! Run for it!" Samuel felt as if they were being chased from behind, although he didn't know who was chasing them. They reached the light source and pushed out into the sunlight. The light burned their eyes and many had to cover up their faces to avoid the stinging sensation.

"We are very close to York now. I would say only a small ride is required to get there." Everyone was out of breath and didn't notice the monk closing a large door behind them.

"Our horses are here! How did he manage to get them here so quickly????" Samuel asked while clutching his chest.

"They certainly know how to move. Daylight is wasting my friends. Let's get a move on. We should be able to reach the town before night-fall." Tic allowed the group to mount up and they departed quickly.

"Guide your horses carefully my friends! It gets dark and the terrain may be rough."

The terrain was indeed very rough. The horses were stumbling over the loose rocks and sand. Rattlesnakes could be heard at a close distance, which alarmed no one. The horses had to stop and rest only a few times, before they were energized and prepared to move out again.

"Are you well Michael? You seem to be ill." Samuel had not caught up with his friend for some time.

"I feel quite ill and I miss my friends back home in my home-town. I fear that they may have forgotten my existence." Samuel listened but truly, his eyes were looking at the road ahead.

"I miss my love and I know she waits for me. She knows I would not fail in my quest to bring back our creation. I will not stop until at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that my son is either safe, or angels accompany him to the grave."

Michael drank from his canteen slowly.

"I don't understand these feelings, for I am not a father. I have never understood love as you understand it. My own actions pushed away those that would pay me any attention."

"You need to mature a little I fear." Samuel smirked.

"I never learned how to mature. I had no teacher for maturity."

"You have proven you know how to party. If I were you, I would tone down the drinking and womanizing for quite some time. If I drank as much as you do, I would certainly not have any liver left to filter out such filth."

Michael wiped his brow with his handkerchief. "Drinking keeps me sane. Drinking gives me comfort. Without drinking, I would certainly have blown my brains out years ago. I have not the heart for the world's bullshit." Samuel laughed at this, but he felt very bad about it.

"I need to get my son back. He means the world to me."

"How do you keep yourself from drinking or chasing tail? You must have some of those instincts in you."

"I know were my priorities lie. I know what course I need to take. Sometimes we need to make our plans known to ourselves before we try to take action."

Michael looked at the road ahead and noticed a town coming into view. York was a massive town out in the middle of nowhere, but it was a very pretty town.

"You think that your son will really be allowed to just leave this place? I mean, if he truly did it, he will walk free without any punishment."

Samuel adjusted his hat as the sun got into his eyes. "I don't really care about that until I get there. I just want to sleep in a place where nobody wants to kill me. At least, I hope nobody will try to kill me here. I visited this town many times when I was younger, and the towns-folk know who I am."

The Great Plateau was quite majestic as the group descended its sloped side. A small river was the only thing that stood between the town and the tiny human-ants that trekked in the dirt and sand. The terrain became soft and smooth here and the horses had no trouble navigating the ground at all.

"Do you think they will have drink and women here??? Especially women???" Michael was truly excited here and his lip quivered.

"Does your twisted brain think of anything else?" Cal shook his head and put his head in his hands.

"I think only of the things that are important to me now."

"I worry about what you think of when you are not anxious. That thought truly frightens me."

Samuel looked to the town with a reverence. He had never seen such a massive center of trade and economic prosperity. How could men with little tools and resources create such a masterpiece? Maybe you had to lie to get this far in life. You could live in a place of luxury such as this and forget the outside world. Many of the residents here were not concerned with outside matters, mainly because their wealth provided the only substance they required. Man didn't need to concern itself with others, others usually came to him here.

"If we run into the sheriff, we must speak to him immediately! He must know that we have arrived!" Samuel grew more and more excited to see his son again.

"The water will be cold! Prepare yourselves!" Tic guided his horse into the gentle current of the river and the others followed his example. The water went up to the men's ankles and the horses were forced to stop every once in a while so that the group remained together.

"I think a fish damn near swan in my boot!!" Cal shook his leg violently, as if he was having a spasm.

"I hope it's a leach!" Michael growled.

The river was quite calming to ride through and the bottom could clearly be seen from above on horse-back. They could see coins and other lost objects wedged between the rocks.

"Do not touch the coins! Haven't you had enough of coins?" Tic tried to guide them all forward, but some people couldn't refuse.

"The town looks completely packed full of bodies. How will we ever find the sheriff?" Michael asked.

"We must find his office in the throng. It is the only way that we will find him." Samuel cleared the river and waited for the others to follow him.

"Don't allow your horse to trip Michael! Guide it all the way!" Tic was clearly mocking him, but Michael made no move.

"Keep your business out of mine! I'm tired as all hell right now!"

They rode at full speed to the town now. Tic led the pack, while Cal rode slightly behind. Michael was last, but his horse was also weighed down by his belly. Either that or his massive beard blinded the poor creature. When they reached the town, they were made to show their weapons to the deputy and give their names. This was done to ensure wanted men were not entering the city. Bounties were easily collected when men were that stupid.

"You men are clear to enter the town. Please proceed to the sheriff's office. It's located right around the corner there." The deputy tipped his hat and walked on to interview other prospective visitors.

Chapter 9

The town was much bigger than anyone had anticipated. It was littered with small stores and markets, each offering something different to visitors. Samuel marveled at the architecture, as it was grand and impressive. Large archways and winding paths made up the streets, while laundry was being hung high up on wires stretched between houses. The jail was a massive building on the outskirts of the town, not far from the sheriff's modest residence. He kept a close eye on his inmates and ensured that they were not comfortable but secure. There were many reasons to fear the sheriff, as he enforced laws with an iron fist and the barrel of his gun. His word was law and it was not questioned. Samuel noticed that a small group of citizens had gathered outside the jail like a peaceful protest of sorts. They stood chatting and smoking, but they glanced at the jail from time to time. The group tied up their horses outside the jail and made their way up to the residence.

They knocked on the door and heard no movement coming from the other side. The windows were covered and the porch was lacking any kind of outdoor furniture. The only heard a dog barking off in the distance, but this didn't bother them much. The floor boards creaked and cracked before the door swung back, revealing a small man with a ten gallon hat on. The star on his shoulder shone like the sun, but his voice ruined the illusion of perfect masculinity.

"Well I'll be god damned, a Native man leading a group of white men up to my door? That's something I didn't to happen in my town. What do you want then?" He backed away from Tic and Samuel had to introduce himself quickly. The sheriff laughed.

"So you've paid for your son's freedom? I did receive the payment in an envelope quite some time ago and he will be released on the date listed in my response. Until then, I suggest you piss off." He spoke quickly as if he was nervous and he went to shut the door. Tic stopped him and bowed with respect.

"Sir, my father has been killed and before he died, he said he would lead these men to release Mr. Clayton's son from a terrible fate in jail or his own hanging. I vow to see to it that his son is safe and returned to his home land." The sheriff only laughed at this however.

"You just so happened to drop by as I was locking up. You will have to wait until his actual release date comes around."

Samuel objected to this right away. He remembered the deal that they had made and he wasn't about to let the man forget what he had said.

"I thought we had agreed on an immediate release? In your letter you mentioned that he would be released as soon as I spoke to you about the matter."

The sheriff simply chuckled. "Some of us would like to sleep sir. I have worked all day and do not wish to deal with it today. I can give you supper and then in the morning, your son will be released into your custody. I expect him to leave the town at that time. He has been stirring up enough trouble in my town."

The dinner invitation was gladly accepted and the group made their way inside. The wife of the house hold prepared a soup with potatoes and vegetables, which was apparently a family recipe. The table was thankfully long enough to accommodate the massive group and everyone sat and drank the finest red wine anyone had tasted before. They were told to dig in and help themselves, which many of them ate until their stomachs were almost too full.

"Your son has pleaded not quilt to the charges brought against him. He claims that someone else murdered that poor old woman. I told him he would likely be lynched no matter if he was guilt free or not." The sheriff sipped his wine as if he was nervous. His town had been peaceful for so long and now the people were ready to take up arms, all because some little kid had killed one woman.

"My son wouldn't do something like that. He was raised to fear the Lord and respect all people." Samuel fed himself quickly as he was starving. Soup dripped from his lips and Tic threw a napkin at him.

"God fearing or not, that woman is dead. Her family wishes to see your son hang regardless of what others might say about him. I fear there may be a full-scale riot in my town. I have decided to release him when the men are working, the women cooking, and the children are at school. This way, we can avoid conflict."

"We must prepare to defend him though. People are unpredictable." Tic did not eat, although he sat against the wall and smoked his pipe.

"That plan could work, but how do we know we will not be followed?" Samuel was nervous and the whole group could see it. He was soaked in perspiration and his hands shook.

"There is no guarantee that you won't be followed. The people probably are preparing an army right now to come and smite us. We must do what we feel is right or we must not do anything at all." Tic remained still as he spoke and his smoke swirled around the room before gliding out the open window.

"You believe in God, sir?" The sheriff asked Tic.

"I do believe in the Great Spirit, which is unlike your God, sir. The Great Spirit is welcoming, caring, and knows what you need in every situation." Tic spit as he talked into the spittoon.

"When you die, what will you tell you're Great Spirit? Will he guide you when you get a bullet in your back?"

Tic stood up a walked over to the table, huffing and puffing as he went.

"What's your name?"

The sheriff felt very uncomfortable here. "Marv."

"Marv, the minute I get a bullet in my back, the Great Spirit crowns me an heir to his limitless kingdom. Can you handle that?"

Marv didn't respond at all, he simply sipped his drink.

"If we are done discussing matters of faith, I would like to see my son if that is not going to be an issue." Samuel puffed on his cigar with his hand on his pistol's grip.

"I never said you couldn't see him, but keep this away from me." He nodded towards Tic, which resulted in a dirty gesture in response.

Marv walked slowly towards the jail, as if he was older than he really is. They had to push through the mob of people just to get close to the building. He unlocked the door with a shaking hand and they entered a room that only contained one desk. Dust swirled in after them and several lanterns had to be lit, as there wasn't enough natural light coming in through the windows.

"Follow me to his cell. You must remain in the seat across from his cell, no exceptions." Samuel nodded. As they entered the cell block, his son came into view. He was asleep on the single cot he was provided, and he face was covered with a blanket. Marv pointed to a chair that was directly across from the cell and told Samuel to sit there and only there.

"Son, I am here. I have gone through the most incredible trip I have ever endured in my life." The blankets did not stir and the room remained eerily quiet. "I know I wasn't there always to guide you, fighting in the war and all. I want you to know I' m sorry. I know you couldn't have murdered that poor old woman."

"DAD?!" The voice shot out of a neighboring cell like a rocket and Samuel instantly looked over. His son wasn't in a different cell! That Marv really must not be in the right state of mind to run this place!

"I can't believe you are here! How was your journey?" Tona held tightly to the bars and he panted. The poor boy was nearly out of breath.

"Many people are now dead. I suppose their souls will not have to endure any more suffering in the cruel world. I was nearly killed too, had it not been for the kindness of our Native friends."

"I notice your leg seems to be swollen. Were you shot?"

Samuel pulled up his pant leg to reveal the bandage, which caused Tona to back away for just a few moments. "At least you are safe and you did not die."

"I fell down a damn waterfall. I'd say it was a close call."

Marv walked into the room and smirked at the pair. "Well by God, you didn't tell me your son was half native! How the hell did that happen? Did you lose your damn mind?!"

"I'm not discussing that here. I am not discussing it with a law-man who sticks his nose in where it isn't wanted." Marv walks up to Samuel and his breath reeks of death itself.

"In my town, you tell me exactly what I want to hear! I don't care if you want to or not! How is it that you had a Native son?!"

"I met a woman and we produced a child! Is that not what God wants us to do?"

Marv slammed his fist into the table and threw another chair across the room. "GOD does not want these fuckers to reproduce! He wants them sent to the damn reservation! How could you not know that this was happening? It is God's will!"

"How would you know anything about God? The way you speak, you must be on evil's side. This is a poor child that is terrified beyond belief. I am taking him with me, even if you disagree with me!"

Marv pulled out his pistol and cocked the hammer back. "You are not leaving my town until I want you to, even if you disagree with me."

Samuel stepped in front of Tona. "You wouldn't dare pull the trigger, not in front of him." Samuel pointed to the door and Marv nearly dropped his pistol. Tic was standing in the doorway holding a rifle.

"I suggest you stand back before I blow your head straight off. Back up against the wall, now!"

Marv looked as though he was going to have a heart attack. "How did you get weapons? Where did you go? Tell me you fool!"

Tic stood his ground. "You shouldn't pull a gun on my friend here. You might get hurt. This is my weapon and I will use it if you disrespect my people again."

"You shoot me with that weapon, and my deputies will string you up for killing a man of the law."

Tic smiled back. "Do people know that their law-man is a racist?"

"Oh, come on! I know many men who would have reacted the same way. It's true that your son is not as superior as I am. You all must have known that you would meet someone like me eventually." Marv had his hands in the air and his shivered.

"Many men with more honor that you've got have worn that badge before you. Isn't that right? Would they have heckled us as much??"

Marv sunk to the ground. "The other sheriffs were honorable men. I intend to live up to their legacy."

"Treating your guests like that will result in a wasted legacy. I will not allow you to hard my friends here. If you so much as touch these men, your town will know how poorly you have treated them here today." Tic walked forward with the rifle and placed it against the sheriff's chest.

"I believe that all men have goodness within them, you just have to find it." He removed the weapon. Nobody had noticed, but Marv had drawn a knife when Tic had approached him, a knife that was now on the floor.

"I had terrible experiences with your people. I act only how you have caused me to." Marv was shaking and Tic lowered his voice to a whisper.

"My people? Why do you assume every Native is a savage? We are all people sir and quite frankly sir, you offend me with your words."

"You have offended with your presence at first, but I know now that I have done you wrong. My family was taken hostage by Native folk and I have not seen them since. So forgive me if I was quick to judge for the sins of others. It seems to be the only thing that I have been good for a while."

Tic backed off full and shook hands with Tona. The sheriff left the building, apparently returning to his residence. The three man sat in the jail talking about the journey and what they would be doing once they left the town, and returned to the dangerous lands beyond. Samuel described the attacks in detail and Tona cringed many times as he listened. When Mo was mentioned, Tona seemed to know who that was, due to the many stories about him that had traveled across the desert.

"He was a great leader in the stories I've heard. He led many men to victory out on the sand, which in turn led to his vast wealth."

Tic smiled and laughed out loud, which made the group question his sanity.

"My father was not rich, he was simply a gifted man who learned well from his father. He passed on what he learned to me and I plan to pass on my knowledge to my children."

Samuel smiled and he was sharing chewing tobacco with Tona.

"You'll be a great father, you must believe that you will be great." Tic nodded while smoking his long pipe, which filled the room with a cloud of odorous mist.

"I need to return to my women first, then I can produce as many children as the Great Spirit will allow."

"You are a strong man. I pity the girl you will return to."

"She has been good to me and I owe her my life."

"I thought I had the pleasure of meeting her before we set out for this town?? She served the most delicious food in the world to me."

Tic smirked and inhaled for a long time. "She knows what needs to be done in terms of cooking. My mother was very good at that as well."

Samuel jumped out of his seat and walked to the door.

"What do they have to eat in this town anyway? Why don't we walk around and check it out?? Tona, I'll be back later and I'll bring you some grub so we can eat together! I love you son!"

Tic looked at the door, then he looked at Tona. "Your father is excitable when hungry."

"That's nothing. You should have seen him when my grandfather brought home the Christmas turkey."

Tic nodded and followed the fleeting shadow out to the bustling street.

Chapter 10

The streets were filled with people, all dressed well and speaking fancy gibberish.

"There's a saloon nearby. How about a drink?" Samuel tipped his hat to passing ladies who giggled in response.

"You white folks certainly love your drinks don't you? What do you recommend?"

Samuel patted Tic's shoulders. "Well there is a kind of whiskey I can recommend once we find a saloon. It is to die for! Maybe we will find Michael with a bottle in hand."

"I really do miss my woman though. I wish to see her again. We don't have access to the wire, so I cannot speak to her that way."

Samuel laughed. "My wife and I wired each other every day for four years before the knot was tied. She never gave up on me."

"She sounds like she is a keeper. Do you have any other children? Being that your woman is so fine, you must have produced more than one offspring."

"She is unable to produce more. There were complications you see and I'd rather not discuss it."

Tic's head was lowered instantly. "I'm so sorry. That must be brutal."

Samuel pointed to the jail. "That's why that one child means so much to me and my wife."

Once they had visited the saloon and secured food, they returned to the jail to continue their conversation with Tona. They described the body they had uncovered in the water at the oasis and Tona explained that his friend had gone mad and that he had pulled a knife on Tona, which resulted in a shot being fired off.

"The next thing I knew, I had shot my friend in the chest, all because I feared for my life."

"Sometimes we have to make tough decisions like that. I know when I was fighting in the war, I needed to think on my feet or I would not be here to speak with you now."

Tic dropped some venison on the ground but claimed it was still good. "Have you ever tasted such excellent grub? It tastes like the stuff my father would prepare."

"Could have used a little more salt. Salt cleanses the body I've heard."

Tic threw his head back with a massive chuckle.

"Salt is great if you want an early grave. It's the spices that make the meal." Tic tossed a roll of bread to each of the men.

"The sheriff would kiss us if he caught us eating here, wouldn't he? I mean, we didn't bring enough for him anyway." Tona said, stuffing his face.

"Let him catch us! I wouldn't share with that dishonorable man even if he were a popular sheriff. The townsfolk ignore his requests to leave the prisoners alone. They trample through the town at night, ignoring his orders to remain indoors."

Samuel looked puzzled. "How do you know so much about this town already? We've only just arrived."

"The women in the tavern liked to talk and it's certain they'll speak more when I turn on the charm. They told me about how the sheriff never allows people to go out at night because the Indians might attack!!! My tribe wouldn't attack such defenseless people and I told them so. Some of the women said they had never been with a Native man."

Samuel had to interrupt. "So the women of this town know that there is a "savage amongst them and they don't seem to care? You'd think these men would want to string you up."

Tic sat up and drank straight whiskey, which burned his throat. He exhaled with such pleasure that Samuel scooted away from him.

"Most people left me be and chatted amongst themselves. The men played cards and the women discussed their home lives and their children. Nobody called me out for being of Native decent."

"But they put little Native boys in jail." Tona seemed to be breaking down. Tears ran down his face.

"Did you really shoot that poor old woman and her child?" Samuel gazed into his hurt eyes and truly saw fear there. It was like a frightened animal in a cage. "If you need to tell me something, now is the time to do it. I won't hate you if you tell the truth. I won't leave you alone to face your punishment if you truly did it. I'll stick by your side."

Tona seemed to eat his food with less intensity now and his hands shook horribly. His hands were scarred from many confrontations in the past.

"Dad, I can't be hung for something I didn't do. The truth will sting for that sheriff. He will not say it, but he blamed me for the murder. He framed me and stuck me in this jail."

Samuel stroked his beard while Tic was chewing tobacco. "Your boy's blood has got Native blood. That means those white folks be stirring up trouble everywhere they go. You can't teach the dumb to see the truth. They will eventually see the truth when it is too late."

"The truth is I didn't kill that woman! I don't want to die because some racist white folks framed my hide."

"Don't you know, those racist white folks think they rule the world and as long as their twisted minds believe that lie, the rest of us will have to keep scraping s**t?"

Footsteps sounded from behind them and the sheriff walked into the room. He was holding his own food. "What about white people? I couldn't help overhearing your commentary."

Tona hid his food under the blanket, but Marv stopped him. "Don't bother kid. I'm not going to stop you. You're going to be free soon anyway."

"Not soon enough." Samuel said while biting into a roll.

"Could you two leave for a while? I always give inmates time to rest during this time. Enjoy your meals gentleman." Marv's hand was glued to the handle of his pistol. Samuel's eyes were glued to his expression.

"I said good-night gentleman. That means get up and leave my jail."

Samuel walked past eyeing Marv while Tic whispered something in his ear. Marv didn't respond but followed them to the door.

"What was that about? What did we do?" Tic asked.

"The grouch wants to close up. We were just in his lair."

"There's something I just don't understand about you. Why don't you just kill him and get it over with? He has your son locked up in a cage and yet you don't act." Samuel spun to face Tic and pointed to the jail.

"We have laws Tic, laws that I'm a believer in. I may not agree with each and every one of them, but I don't break em cause I feel like it. Keeping my son locked up could be a terrible thing, but it might also be the best thing for the kid. If he tries to leave the town, he'd die. That mob would never let him leave. Breaking him out would certainly mark for me for death as well, plus the sheriff will honor his word. My son will be given an escort out of the town and we will be safer once we leave."

Tic laughed. "How do you know the sheriff will give you an escort to safety just because you paid him? He might shoot us all in the head once nobody is looking, or he might have a mob gather on the limits and they will gun us all down. Quite frankly, no matter what we do, we are dead. I'd much rather go out fighting trying to break him out myself. At least then, I could put up a fight."

Samuel walked into the inn and requested a room, noticing prostitutes as he talked. Tic eyed them up and down.

"The fine ones are prowling tonight. Which room is closest to the bar??"

"The one we are getting seems to be just fine."

Tic's eyes went wide with disgust. "No, sir! I can't share a room! What if I meet a woman?"

"I don't think you want that kind of attention. We will need an extra cot in our room, with the best linens you can provide for my friend." He turned as he spoke to the owner who nodded his head. Tic nodded to the ladies, who smiled back.

"Was your father like you when he was younger?? Did he chase tail as much as you??"

Tic nodded, looking for the proper room. The hallway seemed to go on for a while, so he decided to humor the comment.

"I'm sure my father did not misbehave as much as you and I. I believe that he had to mature pretty fast once my grandmother died. He never talked about it though."

They found the proper room, which was already outfitted with an extra cot. The room was quite large, with enough room for both men to have their own space. They smoked, talked more about their future plans, and slept very well. In the morning breakfast was brought to the room promptly and it consisted of bacon, sausage, and eggs prepared how the men wanted. They wandered the town for quite a while, taking in the sights. The town was filled to the brim with merchants, artists, and laborers.

"This is the biggest town I have ever seen! I mean look at how much stuff there is here." Tic was very impressed, but Samuel kept glancing back towards the jail. He wondered what was going on back there, and he knew the sheriff had gone in earlier than usual since many townsfolk had informed him of this.

"I'm very worried. People say that it is not usual for him to go in early. I wonder what he is doing back there." Samuel's face was getting red and Tic noticed his irritation.

"I'm sure he is signing the papers that will declare your son free. You mustn't worry too much. That man may be crooked by all accounts, he has honored his word in the past."

"Those people outside may not be as forgiving as I am. They stand there all day like statues, and they move very little."

Tic looked back as well and noticed that they really didn't move. "They seem to stare at that window like they are entranced. I know that they must have lives to live elsewhere."

"I won't let them touch my son. They can stare all they want, but it will not work. My son will go beyond the borders of this town with me or I'll drag all of those b******s down to hell with me."

"What if they go kicking and screaming? I hate to tell you this, but you're worry distracts you from you're true purpose. You wish to be with your son, to be there in his life. What would happen if your son witness his father gunning down a group of people for their hatred? Sir, the hateful cycle would only revolve I think."

Samuel walked in silence, but those words truly sunk in. "It's just I've come so far and done so much. I wouldn't be a good father if I know that I had let him down."

Tic nodded to this. "All parents probably think as you do once in a while. They worry that their efforts are in vain. Just being there for their children means more than I think they will ever realize. It takes a true parent to shape the next generation."

Samuel thought about Mo for a moment. What had his death really been for? "Your dad died because of me."

Tic responded by stopping dead in his tracks. "Say that again!"

"Your father died because of me. If I hadn't dragged him into this guest, he would have lived to see you another day."

"He died PROTECTING you. He gave his life so that we could get here. My father is alive! He lives on in me! I'm sure he knows that we made it here and that we are about to be successful!"

They went about their business for the day and returned to the jail later in the evening. The sheriff was long gone and he had apparently left the door unlocked, which was something that he was never supposed to do. When the entered the cell block, there were little droplets of blood on the floor leading to the door of the cell.

"What the hell happened here?" Tic asked.

Tona's cell door was closed but there was blood all over the floor. He was up against the wall and his body was beaten and battered. He had many scratches on his face and a few of his toes were broken. His clothes were soaked in blood.

"What the hell? What happened to you?!" Samuel clenched his fists and pounded on the bars of the cell. Tona did not respond immediately, but he did mumble to himself.

"He is alive! I noticed that he moved!" Tic laughed with glee, but Samuel was stoic.

"Son, what happened? Stay with me! Who did this to you?" His voice was getting louder and louder as he spoke. He was losing his patience.

"Marrr......." Tona spit blood onto the floor and looked up at his father. "Marrrvv!"

Tic pounded his fist against the wall. "That son of a b***h! I will kill him for this! I can tell you this kid, we are leaving you alone again!"

Samuel stood there in silence. "Calm down! We don't know that he truly did this! For all we know, it could have been someone else."

"Marv tried to protect me! I was attacked by men from outside! Tona tried to stand but fell on his knees and started to weep.

"Who did this to you? Who did this?! I won't stand for this! This is not how you treat a prisoner in this country!" Samuel kicked the chairs over and through them against the wall. He ran to the door of the jail, with Tic chasing him very closely.

"Is this what you like to do? Do you like to beat up children with your bare hands and expect them not to scared and frightened? I don't care if he killed someone or not! You are no better than he is if you harm children!"

The crowd just looked at Samuel as he ranted, not realizing that he was essentially breaking down and reaching for the handle of his pistol. Tic reached down and pulled his hand away, as Samuel had started to pull his gun out.

"Do not make a scene. Let us go get a drink or something." Tic's voice did not rise above a whisper, but he spoke sternly.

"Who did that to my son? You better come forward and reveal yourself now! I can't believe the sheriff would allow you to come into this place and do that to a poor boy!"

Some of the folks in the crowd pointed towards the sheriff's property and many of the women were crying.

"Why do you point like that? I am standing up here! I need answers!" Tic jumped down from the steps and walked towards the house very quickly. Samuel followed and the people just returned to staring at the jail.

Chapter 11

The door to the house of the sheriff was wide open and papers had been thrown all over the place. The place was quiet and nothing moved or shifted anywhere on the property. Samuel and Tic both called out and searched most of the property, finding patches of blood and weapons thrown here and there.

"There's nobody here. The house is quiet and all the ammo has been removed from the property." Tic scratched his head and continued to wander.

"This place must have been raided only a few hours ago. There is fresh dirt all over the floor."

"Somebody could still be hiding anywhere."

"If there is someone hiding here, then they had better come out! I am itching to blast someone right now."

Tic tried to restrain Samuel but Samuel pulled out his pistol and started pacing back and forth.

"You're not going to blast anyone. Let's just be calm and try to piece this together. The sheriff could have just gone a little mad."

Samuel laughed and looked more and more like a psychopath. "You are going to come out? Do I have to keep searching this property day and night?"

"Calm down! Look there is one more room we have not checked!"

Samuel kicked the door down and they found the sheriff hanging from the rafters, blood dripping down his face and body. He had left no note or any reason for his suicide.

"This man has been claimed by his flaws and now rests with the angels." Samuel crossed himself and looked the body and and down. Tic looked at the crossing with confusion and he smirked. Samuel noticed this but pretended not to notice.

"Does your God accept his kind? Or does he chew him up and spit him back out again?" Tic slapped the big brown leather jacket that Samuel wore, which kicked up dust and grime.

"How would I know? I am not dead, not am I dying. I will not know until I follow him."

Tic cut down the lifeless corpse and walked to the door, closing it quickly.

"What should we tell the public? They will surely wish to raid his home and steal his food."

"Let them do it. I do not own any of these things. I hope people enjoy these trinkets and foul things. You can't take your s**t with you when you meet the devil."

Tic prepared the body for the undertaker, who arrived promptly after being contacted. A coffin was prepared and the sheriff was later buried close to his ancestors on the outskirts of the town.

After the undertaker left, people started to swarm the home and take whatever they wanted. Tic was attenpting to steal several valuable items, which he stuffed into his pocket.

"Let's get out of here." Samuel walked into the swirling dust. He knew what he was going to do and that was go home.

Chapter 12

The town grew much livelier after the death of the sheriff. People laughed and scurried about in ecstasy. The cemetery was closed so that family could visit, but it seemed like his family was not interested in paying respects.

The home was eventually destroyed and its remains were burned up and discarded. The site caused gosip to spread like wildfire in the surrounding towns, but York itself moved on once the site was nothing more than an open field.

As for Tic and Samuel, they were questioned by other authorities and thier testimonies were recorded. After this they were allowed to return to their hotel and not speak of the incident. Something about privacy was mentioned several times.

"That coward killed himself. How could a man do that to himself? He didn't show any restraint in the act." Tic had held back tears after seeing the body. He now questioned whether he was sane enough to continue helping Samuel.

"Some people can't resist their own demons. When you try to resist, you are disposed of and forgotten."

They were sitting in the hotel room and the town was very active. The windows brought in a gentle breeze, which ran through the hair of both men.

"He should have protected your son! Your son was lying in his own blood! If the sheriff touched him, let him rot in hell!"

Samuel sat quietly. He was smoking, which was the only thing that kept him sane at this point.

"You're not talking much. I thought this event would have provoked something from you, but yet you sit there and say nothing."

Samuel put down his cigar and stood up, remaining silent all the while. Tic was tapping his fingers constantly against the arm of the chair.

"Don't you have anything to say? Your son has at least been tended to and his wounds have partially healed, but I wonder what his father thinks of all this?"

Samuel turned and was ready to punch the nearby wall. His hands trembled and his whole body shook with such intensity that he nearly broke down. Samuel cleared his throat and spoke with a low, raspy voice.

"His father just wants to get out of here. I don't feel safe here. It is almost as if this town has been tainted by the blood of the devil. Didn't you see how people scrambled about like wild animals after he passed? They nearly trampled themselves to death trying to get a hold of his belongings. I am collecting my son and I am leaving this god-forsaken place."

Tic sat up quickly. "Your god has truly forsaken this place? I don't think so. I think man has forsaken his God. I know little about your God, but it seems to me that he must have much patience."

Samuel went to rest. He was tired of hearing that he was a failure. He had not been there to guide his son. Maybe God had allowed these events to transpire so that he would be stronger? No that couldn't be! How could Samuel become stronger with a bullet in his back? Surely Samuel had not been bad enough to warrant his death already. Was God truly that mad at him? If God was not mad at him, then what about the sheriff? What was God doing to the sheriff now in hell? Would Samuel go to hell for failing as a father?

These thoughts raced through his mind, even as he slept. He dreamed vividly and tossed and turned throughout the night. He awoke several times, only to hear the drunkards walking down the roads. He reached for the whiskey bottle to bury his sorrow, but the drugs effects wore off too soon for hod taste. Tic slept soundly through the night and woke bright and early to fetch breakfast. He was used to a different style of preparing and eating grub, but didn't mind the luxury of having the saloon prepare it for him. Thankfully, the saloon was quick in the preparation and Samuel woke soon after to join Tic for this joyous migration to the table.

The conversation was kept to a minimum. Tic ate slowly, savoring every bite. He had learned to love the hash browns and egg whites fondly. Samuel ate his pancakes in silence, only meeting Tic's gaze occasionally. The waitresses winked at Tic and he winked immediately.

"What do you think my chances are of getting a white girl?"

Samuel snickerd but didn't look up from his food. "That depends. Do you want her father to string you up because he can't stand the thought of his daughter with a native man?"

Tic laughed. "I'd still make my advances, then steal the f****r's horse. I'd make myself a clean getaway."

"What if the father is a crack shot? He'd blast you right off your horse." Tic laughed.

"He'd have to be a damn good sniper to do that!"

This peaceful dinner was interrupted by two large deputies, who entered and scanned the saloon with large, wide eyes.

"Who are these clowns? They look like they are on the prowl." Tic's was was much louder than he intended it to be and he nearly fell out of his chair when one of the deputies looked his way. Samuel was calm and collected.

"They are just doing thier job. Focus on your food and don't make a scene. You'll get arrested causing a scene."

Tic fumbled with his fork and glanced back towards the door. "I'm sorry if I'm not too fond of law enforcement around here."

Samuel could see that Tic was shaking violently and his eyes were tearing up.

"Look, they are going to grab some grub like we are. Just relax."

But the deputies talked to the bartender, who then pointed directly at them!!!!

"See?! What did I tell you?!" Tic started to stand, but Samuel made him sit. The deputies walked to the table, thier shadows blocking out the sun from the windows. The fatter deputy spoke first.

"You the father of the native child?" Samuel looked up slowly.

"Yes, what of it?" Samuel's heart pounded at an amazing pace.

"You better come with us now. The mayor wants to see you boys."

Chapter 13

They were escorted out easily. No weapons had been drawn at all. The two men walked the streets, looking like criminals the whole way. People stopped and stared. Children pointed and laughed. The deputies paid no mind to it all. They just followed slowly, kicking up dust as they went. The town seemed to go on forever and ever.

"Turn down this street right here! Don't you slow down!" The street mentioned by the lawman was quiet and narrow, which seemed eerie amongst the rest of the grand town. It seemed that they had entered a wealthy area since the homes became a little bigger and the clothes of the people became fancier.

"There is sin hidden in these walls." Tic said with a quivering lip.

The walls seemed to close in from all sides, like they were collapsing. The truth was the alley led to the center of the town, where the offices of government were housed. A massive fountain sat in the center of the square and both men had to shield their eyes from the sunlight reflecting off the water. The deputies continued to escort them to what appeared to be a large cottage, settled on the outskirts of this beauty.

"You will go through the door you see there. You will find the mayor in there waiting for you. You gentleman behave now." The deputies left at that moment, crossing the square and laughing loudly. Tic just stared at the door intently.

"Why the hell are we here? Why do I smell a fire burning?" The smell of a bonfire rose through the air and messed with their sensitive nostrils. Taking too deep of a breath could have made them cough.

A door opened and they were told to step inside quickly. The cottage wasn't very big and it clashed greatly with the surrounding lavish buildings. A fire burned brightly in the fireplace, and food had been set out in preparation for thier arrival.

"Sit down gentleman. Please make yourself at home." A large, portly man walked into the room wearing a black suit and a red tie.

"I hope you're hungry. I've prepared a little something for you." He pulled out a chair and sat down, not waiting for his guests to join him. Tic and Samue. approached slowly. They took their seats quietly and ate at a slow pace.

"Your child is fine. I have taken the liberty of seeing to his care myself. The sheriff would have been treated very harshly if I had gotten a hold of him."

Samuel met the mayor's eyes with his and his gaze dropped. The mayor spoke again.

"It was such a pity. I apologize for the behavior of that filthy man. He has paralysed your child."

Samuel dropped his fork. "What? That son of a b***h did what?"

The mayor swallowed a piece of pork before continuing. "It seems our sheriff had done some things with your boy that should not have been done. I know this is hard to hear but...."

Samuel stared deep into the man's eyes. "Please tell me you lie. Tell me that you are not speaking the truth. That man crippled my child?"

Tic held Samuel's shoulder as tears filled his closed eyes.

"Your son is recovering well. All things considered, he is up and moving with the help of a wheeled chair. He should be able to leave with you as soon as we finish stitching him up."

Samuel's face lit up for a brief moment. "You mean you're actually going to let him leave? You've accepted my payment of his bail and he can leave with me?"

The mayor nodded his head. "It seems everything was done legally. The sheriff did receive the full payment, which means he should have released your son. I intend to make this right."

Samuel looked up with a grateful gleam in his eye. "He doesn't deserve the s**t he has been through. I only wanted my son to come back home with me so we could be a family again."

The mayor nodded in agreement, stroking his large beard. "How thoughtful. I happen to have children serving President Lincoln in the Union Army as we speak. They were good lads and they got on well with others. Your boy is very polite and he tells his his is innocent. I believe him, because he didn't kill those innocent folks."

Tic laughed. "So have you captured the real killer yet?"

The mayor finished his meal and pushed his plate away from him. "We can't very well capture her because she is in the ground. She committed suicide you see."

Samuel frowned. "Then how did my son come to be arrested? If the woman took her own life then there seemed to be no reason to detain him."

"Your son was the one who found her dead. The authorities assumed that she had something to do with it and they arrested him without learning the whole story."

Tic patted Samuel's shoulder with glee. "This means we can leave here with haste! I will see my family again."

The mayor laughed. "You will leave tomorrow morning and I will provide an escort for you. All will be fine."

"I appreciate this a lot." Samuel took a big sip of his drink and shook hands with the mayor.

"I would like to see my son however. This is something that I must do before we leave."

The mayor nodded and excused himself for a moment. A chair came around the corner carrying Tona. He really did look better, sporting new clothes and a haircut. Father and son met in the center of the room and embraced. What they said next is debated, since nobody heard them in thier privacy.

Chapter 14

After they met, they sat and ate a little bit more. Laughter filled the room and Samuel noticed something strange. A man was watching outside from the window, staring at the feast as if he wanted to take part. It was not the food he wanted. He was drawn to what he would do later, although you will learn more about this later.

"You have people staring in at you while you eat?" Tic asked quickly.

The mayor laughed. "Pay no mind to them. They can stare all they like. I'm not going to acknowledge them."

The man moved away from the window and disappeared. The meal was finished and the men talked until they became tired.

The walk to the hotel was very daunting, as the roads were still packed even late at night. Tic and Samuel pushed Tona's chair through the middle of the street, avoiding the stares of the citizens. Samuel heard many curses and jeers being thrown towards them and he felt a presence behind him. He didn't recognize the voices around him and his head spun. The sea of bodies around him didn't offer much protection in the dark. The presence behind Samuel turned into a stroking motion on his left shoulder. Prostitutes. They hollered and beckoned him with their wild eyes and mature hips, but he stayed the course with his son's wheel chair. The woman voiced their displeasure of his ignoring them and he smiled. Tona was eying the crowd with suspicion. Everyone was looking at them and even the little children were staring.

"What happened to that poor boy? Is he okay??" Woman were actually crying as they observed the native boy's condition. They also taunted and shouted insulting comments. It was a relief to finally reach the hotel. Most of the hotel was occupied by couples who had spent the night drinking, or honest men who couldn't afford better accommodations.

Tic and Samuel sat up talking for a little while.

"You going to go back to your family?" Samuel asked as they smoked.

"I will find them I'm sure. I will just have to be careful when I return. I don't know if the tribes have stopped fighting or not. I would like to see my father buried, but I'm sure it has already happened."

Samuel gave Tic a light. "I need to return to my woman and make sure she is okay."

"She means the world to you doesn't she?"

"Yeah. I know she misses me more than anything."

The men slept until they were awoken by a lawman, who escorted them to the village center. There were horses prepared and Tona could sit behind his father atop his father's horse. The mayor was there to see them off. Micheal had not been seen for a while and he exits the story here.

"May you be safe in your travels. I hope you'll all come back someday if you can. God bless you!"

The men were surrounded by a few lawmen, who were to escort them out of the city. They rode for many miles before the lawmen turned around.

They had barely gotten far before Tic heard people ahead in the bushes.

"Listen, do you hear that???" Samuel and Tic drew their guns immediately. There were whispers among bushes and then there were a few shots that were fired. Samuel fell off of his horse and held his shoulder. His horse was shot and killed.

"Tona grab onto me!!!" Tic jumped off his horse, held Tona in his arms and took off running for cover. Samuel screamed in agony before one final bullet blew out his brains from the back of his skull.

Tona ran and ran as fast as he could. He would not let this child die. He heard his attackers screaming and hollering as they followed close behind on horseback. They were white men, chasing them on foot! They shouted that the boy was a murderer and had to die. Bullets whizzed past Tic's body and he scanned the area for a place to hide. There was a small cave up ahead and Tona sprinted at full speed for the opening.

"Hang on kid! I got you!" Tona was crying and trying not to fall from Tic's grasp. They made it to the cave and ran all the way to the back until they couldn't run anymore.

Their attackers stopped at the mouth of the cave, scared to go too deep into the darkness.

"We know you got the native boy! Come on out and hand him over! He murdered that poor lady and we are taking him straight to hell."

Nothing stirred in the darkness. "You hear me you native son of a b***h? Give us the boy!!!"

Suddenly a shot rang out from the darkness and blood splattered in all directions. Two attackers gone and one to go. Tic had taken the heads off of two of them!!! He stepped out from the darkness with his shotgun raised.

"Get away from my son!!!" He fires once more to kill the third man.

"Tic!!!" Tona hugs Tic was a passion. Their embrace is only interrupted by the sound of horses approaching.

"Tic is that you??" The voice was from one of Tic family members. The large native group scooped up the two and the last thing they saw before riding off into the distance, was Samuel's grave near the road. Tic's native family had buried the white man.

The End

Author's Note

Please tell me what you honestly think about the story.