Blogathon 2006: Chapter 14.
written by Julie R. Neidlinger 1 comments link this post
Unease woke him in his sleep with the cold nose of a revolver, insisting he wake up with a silent order. Dove's eyes were instantly open, his senses alert, his body still. This was his lesson; there was no getting away with sleeping in a dying world.
A muffled voice, its owner's face hidden by the shadows of night and what appeared to be a bandana, told him to get to turn over onto his stomach. Dove had no problem following instructions, though he hoped his night visitor wouldn't pull a Pat Garrett and leave him for dead with a hole in his back.
He felt his arms pulled tightly behind his back, his hands and feet trussed up.
There was a second person there, someone with a bit of strength to him, hauling him up across his saddle like a dogie.
This was going to be a long ride no matter where it went. His ribs creaked with every bouncing and stumbling stride of his horse as he was led away into the darkness, down the rocky path.
There's never time to sleep when you're alone. Who'll be the guard?
Labels: blogathon
Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger 7/29/2006 03:28:00 PM
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