Friday 4 May 2012
Another Chance Novel Pt 1
The shattering of glass woke her as the softly shaded bedroom window burst into thousands of pieces, glass flying into the dark room to scatter over the floor and onto the bed. A shadowy hulking figure filled the gloomy opening for a moment, then she realized someone had entered the room! Terrified, her blood turned to ice as she rolled out of the bed and scrambled for the closed bedroom door, broken shards of glass cutting into her feet. She could hear his hard breathing from the struggle of climbing through the window and the flowery smell of the outside night filled her nostrils. Desperately she grasped for the doorknob in the semi darkness of the room. She could hear steps clambering across the broken glass on the floor at the same time she could hear David's steps rushing down the hall toward the door she was finally able to pull open. Just as in every nightmare she'd ever had, everything seemed to be in slow motion.
Then she felt a hand close in the soft, braided hair on the back of her head and snatch her backward roughly. She cried out with pain, then felt the solid, hard body of the man who had broken into her room, as she was jerked back against him. She tried to struggle, but he held her close and her struggles only caused him to hold her tighter. Her blood seemed to have melted and she tried to scream, but terror had closed her throat.
He was laying in the bed, not quiet asleep, not quiet awake when he heard the almost undetectable sound of a key, slide into the lock of the door to his room. His senses were instantly alert and he silently rolled off the bed onto the floor away from the door. His Glock was in his hand as if by magic. The door had not yet began to open, so he slipped silently across the dark room and flattened himself against the wall behind the cheap motel dresser. It didn't offer much protection, but an intruder would expect him to still be asleep in the bed.
The door creaked softly as it was pushed open. He saw vague shadows silhouetted in the doorway between the dim hallway light and his dark room and knew there was more than one intruder as they slipped cautiously into his room. At the moment they realized he wasn't in the bed, he stepped from against the wall and spoke, his voice soft and menacing.
"Looking for me?"
They whirled and one of them fired the 45 Magnum he was holding. The bullet shattered the window three feet to Wolf's left. His hand jumped and his Glock spit fire in the direction of the two intruders. The one with the 45 cried out and turned, knocking the man behind him off balance as he too fired his weapon. This time the bullet sliced across the side of Wolf's leg, burning the flesh and knocking his leg out from under him. There was scuffling and confusion as Wolf fired off three shots instinctively, to protect himself as he fell. Pushing with his uninjured leg, he managed to dive behind the bed.
His dive carried him further than he intended and his head hit the nightstand, almost knocking him out. Dazed for the moment, he didn't hear the two men cautiously approach the end of the bed and study his still form.
"You think he's dead?" one of them spoke in a whisper, his hand dripping blood from the bullet hole in his shoulder.
The other man shrugged, pointed his hand gun at the still form and pulled the trigger. "Now he is. Let's get out of here. This place will be full of cops in a few minutes."
Wolf heard their words faintly and felt the stabbing fire in his back as the bullet tore deep into his body. He felt his body jerk spasmodically, then a thick fog of blinding pain filled his brain and he slipped into merciful unconsciousness.
His next thoughts were confused and frightening. Bright lights glared down into his sensitive eyes, he felt like he was laying on his back on a bed of fiery hot bricks, with one raised above the others, near the middle of his back, just to the right of his spine. Unfamiliar voices came and went. Sometimes he picked up a word, and he knew there was movement around him, but none of it made any sense. His back and chest burned like an inferno and every breath was agony. I must be dying, he thought. His mind jumped back in time to his boyhood on the reservation. He was with his grandfather and they were talking about his grandmother who had passed away before the old man had brought them home to the reservation.
"Shy Deer had been sick a long time with the sickness of coughing. She told me she was tired, but I still had work to do, so she was going on ahead of me to the other side. Then she started singing her death song. I knew then that she would die. I didn't want her to leave me, but she knew there was a reason for me to stay. I think the spirits must have told her that you and your sister would need me."
The boy was curious about the chanting he had heard others sing even as they were dying. The old man sat before a smoldering fire and answered the questions the boy had asked.
"When we know that death is hovering over us, we sing to the spirits on the other side to let them know we are coming and to ask the spirits here to show us the way." The old man looked into the fire. "We call it the death chant and to each person it is personal and unique." Over the years, the boy had grown into a man and had given serious thought to his own personal death song.
Feeling trapped and alone within the fog of pain he somehow heard his own voice begin a weak chant. He had learned that the words to each death chant came from the heart of the one who was singing it and to his surprise, the words came easily from his heart.
Click Here to Read Part 2
Then she felt a hand close in the soft, braided hair on the back of her head and snatch her backward roughly. She cried out with pain, then felt the solid, hard body of the man who had broken into her room, as she was jerked back against him. She tried to struggle, but he held her close and her struggles only caused him to hold her tighter. Her blood seemed to have melted and she tried to scream, but terror had closed her throat.
He was laying in the bed, not quiet asleep, not quiet awake when he heard the almost undetectable sound of a key, slide into the lock of the door to his room. His senses were instantly alert and he silently rolled off the bed onto the floor away from the door. His Glock was in his hand as if by magic. The door had not yet began to open, so he slipped silently across the dark room and flattened himself against the wall behind the cheap motel dresser. It didn't offer much protection, but an intruder would expect him to still be asleep in the bed.
The door creaked softly as it was pushed open. He saw vague shadows silhouetted in the doorway between the dim hallway light and his dark room and knew there was more than one intruder as they slipped cautiously into his room. At the moment they realized he wasn't in the bed, he stepped from against the wall and spoke, his voice soft and menacing.
"Looking for me?"
They whirled and one of them fired the 45 Magnum he was holding. The bullet shattered the window three feet to Wolf's left. His hand jumped and his Glock spit fire in the direction of the two intruders. The one with the 45 cried out and turned, knocking the man behind him off balance as he too fired his weapon. This time the bullet sliced across the side of Wolf's leg, burning the flesh and knocking his leg out from under him. There was scuffling and confusion as Wolf fired off three shots instinctively, to protect himself as he fell. Pushing with his uninjured leg, he managed to dive behind the bed.
His dive carried him further than he intended and his head hit the nightstand, almost knocking him out. Dazed for the moment, he didn't hear the two men cautiously approach the end of the bed and study his still form.
"You think he's dead?" one of them spoke in a whisper, his hand dripping blood from the bullet hole in his shoulder.
The other man shrugged, pointed his hand gun at the still form and pulled the trigger. "Now he is. Let's get out of here. This place will be full of cops in a few minutes."
Wolf heard their words faintly and felt the stabbing fire in his back as the bullet tore deep into his body. He felt his body jerk spasmodically, then a thick fog of blinding pain filled his brain and he slipped into merciful unconsciousness.
His next thoughts were confused and frightening. Bright lights glared down into his sensitive eyes, he felt like he was laying on his back on a bed of fiery hot bricks, with one raised above the others, near the middle of his back, just to the right of his spine. Unfamiliar voices came and went. Sometimes he picked up a word, and he knew there was movement around him, but none of it made any sense. His back and chest burned like an inferno and every breath was agony. I must be dying, he thought. His mind jumped back in time to his boyhood on the reservation. He was with his grandfather and they were talking about his grandmother who had passed away before the old man had brought them home to the reservation.
"Shy Deer had been sick a long time with the sickness of coughing. She told me she was tired, but I still had work to do, so she was going on ahead of me to the other side. Then she started singing her death song. I knew then that she would die. I didn't want her to leave me, but she knew there was a reason for me to stay. I think the spirits must have told her that you and your sister would need me."
The boy was curious about the chanting he had heard others sing even as they were dying. The old man sat before a smoldering fire and answered the questions the boy had asked.
"When we know that death is hovering over us, we sing to the spirits on the other side to let them know we are coming and to ask the spirits here to show us the way." The old man looked into the fire. "We call it the death chant and to each person it is personal and unique." Over the years, the boy had grown into a man and had given serious thought to his own personal death song.
Feeling trapped and alone within the fog of pain he somehow heard his own voice begin a weak chant. He had learned that the words to each death chant came from the heart of the one who was singing it and to his surprise, the words came easily from his heart.
Click Here to Read Part 2
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