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 The Beginning of the Final chapter

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Zas B'ul

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Posts : 628
Join date : 2013-08-29
Location : Texas

PostSubject: The Beginning of the Final chapter    Mon 15 Dec 2014, 22:58

The warm desert breeze blew fiercely in the late morning sunshine which was already beginning to bake the unyielding grasses that gripped mercilessly into the surrounding steep copper toned craggy and rocky hillsides straining against the wind clinging for life; the slopes themselves melding seamlessly into the brown steady, slow moving river on both sides as if carved with a large jagged shovel loomed menacingly. The scent of rotten decay filled the air. The still and quiet eerie serenity of the scene unbroken except for the gaunt squat brown skinned man clothed in a red, black, and white poncho with fabric seams and frayed and fading edges and colors showing the vast expanse of time the man had spent in the elements and tan cowboots with the bottom heel soles nearly completely worn away.

Behind his slowed labored pace lay a trail with deep indentations and grooves that flowed from the black aged leather with silver clasps saddle bags and long lolling strips of cattle twine the man haphazardly drug alongside him. On both sides of the river bank lay various skeletonized human forms with the further in the cliffs he went the more meat could be seen left on them.

The Black eyed man heaved himself forwards ever onward, lips dry and cracked, the top of his head bathed in sweat, dried blood and dirt reddening from the heat. A circling vulture lazily following his trudging march.

Suddenly, the air directly in front of the man is ripped asunder by a deafening boom as rock debris and large thick black and grey clouds reeking of burning gunpowder whiz past him, the man completely unfazed continued on towards the epicenter of the explosion with his eyes squinting. It is as he approaches a bend in the river and the menacing slopes grow more narrow, that he is able to see past the dirt cloud.

Off to his right, deep inside the newly exposed cave standing atop a large pile of crumbled rock but beneath a large simple and elegant blue colored parasol was a woman whose face was hidden and shaded behind a dainty black veil. The woman's petite frame dwarfed in comparison to the row of a dozen black men fastened in irons armed with large pick axes rapidly hacking at the far side of the cave. The woman's body language and stance exuded both power and control which were almost completely at odds with the dark green Victorian style dress she wore which was designed to emphasize her femininity and meekness. None of the slaves dared turn to face her or stop their frenzied work.

The Hispanic man with the saddle neared the woman and came to a halt just outside the shadow of the cave entrance and waited. The lady twirled her parasol gently tilting her head to the man and nodding as she said with a rich European accent, "It's done then? You've taken care of the dogs? There's nothing to tie me or this venture to the ordeal?"

The man drops his saddle as he leans against the cliff face and reaches for something inside his poncho and pulls out his single shot pistol and inspects it as he says with a thick Tijuanan voice, "Si, señorita. El Lobos no bother you no mas. Señor Chambers, is how you say-convincing-...he speaks the language of the Comanche."

The woman nods. "Excellent. This ordeal was beginning to be more costly than I had been led to believe..."

She pauses and says with a mildly more intimidating voice, "Jorge, you did make sure Señor Chambers received his payment as well correct?"

Jorge tightens the grip on his gun and gulps at the change in her demeanor as he stammeringly says, "S-Si Señora Boucher...his gift was delivered right between his eyes."

Lady Boucher's voice returns to its more relaxed pleasant velvety tone as she says, "You've done well Jorge. You've done well."

Jorge breathes a sigh of relief and then gasps for air as he hadn't realized he'd been holding it. As he does this however, Lady Boucher closes the distance between them cautiously as she says with malice and spite creeping into her words, "You've not done well enough however. I have received word that you let one of the little flea bags get away. Tis a pity really, you've lasted so much longer than the others."

Jorge grimaces as he turns to fearfully stare at her but says nothing. He knew any pleas for his life would be mocked and scorned. He couldn't run away-he'd signed his life away for the protection of his family. If he went home he knew that they'd all be dead and that his time would soon follow. He couldn't live with that type of guilt or that fear of dread. Better to just get it over with now and be done with it.

The woman waits for him to respond but in his silence she says as she extends her gloved fingertips to his nearest shoulder keeping herself out of the sunlight, "I see that you are smarter than your predecessors...perhaps, you can be better suited elsewhere, somewhere that you don't have to be responsible for your own decisions. I shall hold onto you I think. Yes-maybe you can even earn yourself a visit to see your family. Who knows? Maybe at the end of all this we can both get what we really want."
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