
The lone Indian sighed with indecision as he first looked up at the circling birds of death above before looking back down at the sunburned and broken young cowboy in the soft desert sand at his feet.
Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Angst/Hurt/Comfort - Words: 474 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 6 - Published: 02-24-12 - id: 7868306
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Incident at Indian Creek
Gill Favor- 'Sometimes driving cattle can be a job thwart with dangers from stampeding cattle, droughts, rustlers and Indians, but sometimes the danger comes from somewhere far closer, sometimes our own suspicion and lack of trust in others can be the biggest danger we face.'
The high pitch sounds of vultures circling above pulled him from the protective darkness that had held him safe. He moaned and cracked open an eye, too tired, too sore to do more than that, and stared up at the too bright iridescent blue sky above that was broken occasional by the scavengers as they flew closer to see if their next meal had expired yet.
He licked his dry, cracked, bleeding lips and forced himself to roll over, unable to stop the weak whimper of agony that escaped his lips as his shattered body protested the movement, before he slowly lifted his head and scanned the shimmering sands that surrounded him. Raising himself painfully up onto his arms, he slowly began to drag himself towards the small saltbush and the only shade that he could find. He knew that if he did not get out of the hot sun soon, he would not live until sunset and his death would not be an easy one.
He felt his arms shake with fatigue as he pulled himself painfully through the hot sand, choking on the fine dust as it crept with each intake of breath into his dry throat and burning lungs. He could not give up; not yet, he knew that they would soon notice he was missing and come looking for him.
Biting his lip with a renewed determination, he dragged himself a few more feet until his arms suddenly gave out beneath him and he fell heavily back into the dust. Breathless, exhausted and in agony he rolled onto his back and stared desolately up at the blue sky again. He knew deep in his heart that he no longer had the strength to carry on. The broken bones, the sunburn and the unending thirst that now plagued him had finally taken its toll. Even if the trail boss was looking for him, he was certain all they would find was his well picked bones.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Favor, I tried…" he whispered to the sky as he welcomed the encroaching darkness as it pulled him back into its welcoming arms.
The shadow of a man fell across the unconscious cowboy. He had been watching the young man for the last few hours, watching and waiting since he had seen him thrown from his horse. The lone Indian sighed with indecision as he first looked up at the circling birds of death above before looking back down at the sunburned and broken man in the soft desert sand at his feet.
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