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Setting: The Old West (Indians) "Sarah, wake up. We must leave. The soldiers are near." "What?" she asked, only coming half awake. "Where am I?" "We must go ... now." Hearing the familiar voice, her eyes popped open. "D.K.!" She hugged him tightly. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were dead." Tears streamed down her face. D.K. pushed her away slightly. He chuckled and wiped the tears from her face. "No. I am not dead." He smiled indulgently. "We must go ... quickly, before they find us." Sarah nodded. "All right. I'm ready." He pulled her to her feet, and led her deeper into the forest. "There is a hidden Indian campsite in the mountains. We will go there." "Is it safe?" "Safer than down here." He guided her through the trees and over the rough terrain. "Hurry. The soldiers cannot be far behind." Men shouting nearby caught their attention. "They have found us!" D.K. whispered harshly. "Come. This way." He pulled her behind some bushes. Something tugged at Sarah's back and she squealed in panic. D.K. spun around, ready for a fight. His gaze was drawn down to their attacker. A small, Indian boy stood before them. "This way. Hurry," he whispered. "I will help you hide. There is a place nearby." D.K. hesitated to trust a mere boy, but they needed help. He reluctantly nodded, and grabbed a hold of Sarah's hand. They approached what looked to be a thatch of bushes with no way through. The boy whistled, then waited. D.K. glanced over his shoulder. The soldiers could not be far behind. If they caught up with them, he and the boy would certainly be killed. And Sarah ... he did not know what they would do to her. The bushes suddenly parted and a little face appeared--the face of a young Indian girl. "Who are they?" she asked, looking with wide-eyes at Sarah and D.K. "They need help," the boy answered. "Let us in." The bushes parted further to reveal a cave. The little boy led D.K. and Sarah inside. They were immediately surrounded by small children. Sarah turned in a slow circle. "There's ten of them," she whispered to D.K. "And they're all so young." "Where did you children come from?" he asked. "Our parents told us to hide from the soldiers here," one little boy answered. "We have food and water and--" "Protection," a deep voice rumbled from the back of the cave. D.K. recognized that voice. It sent a chill down his spine. He stepped in front of Sarah, hiding her behind his body. She peered around him. "Who is it?" "Winter Bear." Sarah gasped. The warrior who'd brought her to the Indian camp--the one who owned her, according to D.K. "You take my property, Dancing Knife?" D.K. stepped forward. "She is not yours." Winter Bear drew his knife. "We shall see." With a loud roar, he rushed forward. Sarah pushed in front of D.K. "No! Stop this craziness!" "Sarah!" Before D.K. could shove her out of the way, Winter Bear's knife met soft flesh, and Sarah collapsed in his arms. |