The Stone of Blood (15 page)

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Authors: Tony Nalley

Tags: #Christian, #Fairy Tales; Folk Tales; Legends & Mythology, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: The Stone of Blood
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The minutes passed like hours, lyin’ there upon that ground; petrified wood covered the terrain, products of an underground spring.

 

The still soft quiet of the forest permeated from within, my heart beatin’ now as if it would be my last! I could not wait any longer! It had to end now!

 


With malice aforethought I arose from my position as the feelin’ of bein’ watched enveloped me, and I stood upon my feet as the
bullets
tore through my body!

 

I fell in primordial slow motion as the metals pierced my soul!

 

And I died there upon that foreign soil as the bullets took me beneath that unforgiving sky…

 

“I got you! I got you! I got …I got …I got you!” Colby sang as he ran.

 

“I got you didn’t I?” Colby exclaimed as he jumped up and down and headed towards me where I lay. “I’ve been sitting over there for the longest time just watching you!” He continued laughin’.

 

Colby was laughin’ so hard by this time that he wasn’t makin’ any noise at all! He had to stop to breathe in some air just to keep his self from passin’ out! I was laughin’ too! The site of him was hilarious! He could always make me laugh! Even if he had
turned on me
durin’ the battle like he’d done and had waited to ambush me!

 

It was hard to stay mad at him for too long. There were times when he didn’t have to say a word to me at all and I would just burst out laughin’ at him! Many a New Years Eve was spent with him standin’ on our rooftop at

pissin’
into the wind! “
Look! I pissed all the way from one year into the other!”
He would exclaim! Colby was my best friend but he could also be a complete nut!

 

“You didn’t see me?” He questioned again as he nearly laughed himself silly!

 

I couldn’t see a thing without my glasses on. I had left em’ in the house before we’d come outside. And I was nearly blind in the woods without em’! But I sure wasn’t gonna tell him that! It was not a good thing to show your weakness in the face of an enemy.

 

If he knew I couldn’t see without em’, he might take advantage and hide em’ from me! I couldn’t let that happen!

 

“Okay, you got me. You got me.” I answered and congratulated him on his victory.

 

…Post traumatic situations brought men together on fields of battle. White flags would fly as both sides carried their brothers from the fields. Every detail would then have need of bein’ recounted. Every thought, every action and every misstep would need be recalled and recanted as it had been played out to fruition...

 

It was then and only then, after the stories of my bein’ killed in battle upon that foreign soil had been told, that we could have an honest truce and bring about a peaceful agreement after which, we took a break and went inside for refreshments, a
nd I put on my glasses.

 

“Ask your mom if we can go on a camp out.” Colby whispered to me, as we sat at the kitchen table eatin’ a sandwich and drinkin’ somethin’ cold in a glass that mama had fixed for us. I didn’t know if I really wanted to or not. But I would never hear the end of it if I didn’t ask.

 

“Mom, can me and Colby go on a camp out tonight?” I asked.

 

Mom stopped washin’ her dishes, and turned around and slung a dish towel over her shoulder.

 

“Where are you two going on this camp out?” She asked.

 

Mama knew that we were practically grown up,
I saw it in her eyes as she looked at me.

 

“The old rock quarry, back the road.” I replied.

 

“The rock quarry!” My mom exclaimed. “It’s a long way home in the middle of the night if you camp out there!” She continued. “But I guess …as long as you know that …and ya’ll be careful, then it would be okay for one night.” She agreed.

 

It had been decided then, by a show of a decidin’ vote that we should partake of this army game in the field; the
decidin’ vote
bein’ my mama and the
in the field
part meanin’ the old rock quarry.

 

After all, we’d had a successful venture into memorable territories earlier this afternoon.
And an overnight camp out could be successful too, right?
To be honest I had my reservations.

 

Colby was an expert in the art of spyin’. Which means that he was an expert at gainin’ information or papers that were considered to be top secret or confidential, without the owner knowin’.

 

Or rather, he could sneak stuff that he shouldn’t. And he was good at it!

 

His dad had a massive collection of items that could not politely be discussed around the grownups. Colby had taken some of those items and had brought em’ across the invisible fences to my house. Not only were they taken without permission but they also might bring about a sudden death to the both of us if they were ever caught on our person!

 

Though it could be argued that this was a rite of passage, we would suffer our weight in gold nonetheless if our mission was to fail!

 

Definition:
Colby brought some of his dad’s girly magazines and if we got caught with em’ we would be killed! Killed dead! It was simple, get in, get out and no one gets hurt.

 

…Innate skill and tactical surprise were required for smugglin’ items into a premise, while a certain degree of chance was also required for smugglin’ those same items out.

 

Armed guards stood watch as we approached the checkpoint. But tightened security measures would not detain ones so thoroughly trained in the fine art of spyin’...

 

“Bye Mom.” I said. “We’ll see you in the mornin’!”

 

I walked out the door with my pellet gun strapped over my shoulder, fully decked out in camouflage gear and carryin’ what had to be the heaviest suitcase ever created in existence!

 

“You boys be careful out there!” Mama said as she eyeballed our cargo. “You never know what you’re gonna run into.”

 

Mama handed us both an overnight care package filled with food, kissed me on the forehead and sent us off! A wave of excitement swept over us as our mission’s success had been realized.

 

With our objective in hand and evasion of capture realized, we made the long trek down the darkened gravel road to the old rock quarry.

 

Like sharpened blades of light protruding through the trees, the sun slowly set upon the path we walked. Our diminishing vision brought with it uneasy feelin’s of fear. Wild creatures howled in the distance! Someone or somethin’ was watchin’ us! We could feel it in our bones! It was not safe here.

 

The old rock quarry had been abandoned for some time. Its empty buildings and rusted machinery came into fuller view as we rounded each curve, with gigantic structures standin’ out against a darkening sky. Towerin’ into the heavens like ancient dinosaurs, these skeletons of the past triggered terrifyin’ visions of a future age; an age whereby a sparse population, weary and heavy laden would dwell upon the land; scavengers who lurked within its darkness like disfigured creatures feedin’ upon human flesh! They moved now like the shadows that danced at our feet, ever changin’ as we walked. We called em’ Monsters!

 

“Do you hear that?” Colby whispered. “It sounds like music coming from the woods.”

“No, I don‘t hear anything.” I answered. “Who would be playin’ music all the way out here?”

“I don’t know, but keep your voice down.” Colby whispered while motionin’ me to follow him. “Let’s go check it out!”

There was no time to waste. I either followed him or I’d be left there in the dark alone. So I set our gear down upon the gravel road and I followed.

We crept through the trees and underbrush keepin’ our communications to a minimum.

 

The woods were thick and we traveled cautiously.

 

We could see em’ now amidst the thickness of the forest as they danced by the firelight. Smoke rose from the flames as they howled into the twilight. Drumbeats resounded and echoed throughout the woodlands and rock walled caverns.

 

Like wolves these creatures cackled with a great gnashing of teeth!

 

We moved in stealth around em’ …as that of a Mountain Lion; maintainin’ our distance and keepin’ downwind of their encampment.

 

“This is just like that movie ‘
Salem’s Lot
’.” Colby whispered to me as we knelt upon the ground hidin’ ourselves from the light. As history would have it,
Bardstown
was once known as
Salem
.

 

“Only these aren’t ‘
Vampires
’. They’re ‘
werewolves
’!” He continued.

 

The power of suggestion could lead a boy to think a great many things.

 

“I think we’d better go.” I whispered to Colby as the clamor around the fire grew louder.

 

Flickerin’ shafts of light danced amidst the trees. Like tiny soliloquies cutting through the darkness, the moon shone brightly castin’ its light upon the earth; for by the light of Earth’s moon they walk; half man half beast.

 

Colby shook his head at me but I couldn‘t see him. I was too busy watchin’ the people as they danced and sang around the campfire.

 

“You’re right. Let’s get out of here.” Colby whispered.

 

We moved cautiously over the trail by which we came, ever conscience of the sounds we made; retreatin’ backwards into the night, far enough from the fires that we could speak freely again.

 

It was hard making sense of what we had seen, putting into words expressions of fear.

 

One thing we knew for certain: it was a long way home if we were to make a run for it!

 


Silver bullets can kill a ‘werewolf’
.” I thought to myself. But we didn’t bring any with us. I held up my hand in front of my face, at arms length I couldn’t see my fingers.

 

“We’d better keep our flashlights off tonight so we’re not spotted.” I whispered, even though we were far enough out of ear shot now not to be heard.

“I agree. We need to keep the lights off.” Colby whispered back. “At least until we get to the other side of the quarry, and away from em’!” he continued as he pointed in the direction of the fires.

 

By the light of the full moon we picked up our gear and traveled to the east. After a while, our eyes adjusted to the dark. Things could be seen much clearer. But the suitcase was still heavy.

 

So I moved slowly, setting it down from time to time in attempts to rest my fingers from the rope handle that cut deep ridges into them. The indentured marks nearly cut off my circulation, and I had to open my fingers slowly so as to not break em’ off from the rest of my hand! It took a while to get the blood flowin’ again like normal, so I would sit down on the suitcase and rest for a minute while Colby continued blazing the trail ahead of us with the machete he had brought with him at the beginnin’ of our trip.

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