OUT OF THE DARKNESS (THE PRESCOTT SERIES) (2 page)

S
ounds of pursuit grew louder, closer. Could she make it to the water, or should she change direction again in hopes of losing the warriors in the dense forest? No, water was her best chance.

Jade slowed her headlong flight. She had to be careful not to leave
any more than the minimum of signs for them to follow. Oh, if only she could run and run, without fear of discovery, until she was out of sight. Her heart raced in excitement at the thought. But such haste would leave a path even the children of the village could follow.

The first day
, she’d crept through the forest watching each place she set her foot or leaned against a tree when she rested. It made her pace slower, but safer. Now she regretted the time spent covering her tracks. They had found her despite all her efforts.

She glanced behind her. They were still out of sight, but she could
sense them. Her heart pulsated in her chest. Would she ever be free of the fear she lived with daily? Horrible images of what they would do to her tormented her.

Her
fear had nearly turned to panic when she stepped into the water and slipped on moss-covered rocks. Rocks, large and small, lay scattered on the pebbled bed of the stream. The swift water played a risqué tune against the rocks as sunlight danced on the white caps. Fretting, she looked downstream, then upstream. Which would be the safest route?

She started upstream.
This direction would take her further from her trackers, and the most unlikely way they thought she would go. She had taken a few steps when she realized this must be the same stream that passed by the Indian village. She stopped and looked behind her. If the village lay upstream, downstream would take her further away, not back to where she’d began.

S
ounds of the hunters grew louder. Her head throbbed with every fearful beat of her heart. She quickly turned around and headed downstream.

The water became deeper as
she waded into the middle of the stream, the current stronger. Suddenly, she lost her footing on a slime-encrusted rock. She gasped a quick breath before the water sucked her under. She surfaced a few yards away as the swift current pulled her downstream. She relaxed and let it carry her.

Jade realized she
could swim. With strong, even strokes she controlled the waters efforts to drag her under, even hampered by the buckskin dress and leggings. Floating in the middle of the stream, she felt exposed. A frisson of fear crawled over her chilled skin.

A
large oak tree lay horizontal against the bank, its limbs stretched out into the water. To her, the equivalent of a beckoning hand. The branches had an abundance of dry, brown, leaves rustling in the light breeze, as if they were a haven, waiting to give her protection.

Numb a
rms stroked the water to bring her closer to the large tree. Her hand grasp a branch, just as she was about to be swept away. Pulling herself closer into the tree’s top branches, she wedged herself into its waiting arms.

Peering through the leaves and branches, she saw a
n overhang of ground had created a cave-like area. She could work her way through the limbs, to the small open space, and elude her would-be captors.

Her relief was short lived. She heard
the splash of feet hitting the water in hard, relentless pursuit. It would not take them long before they saw her hanging onto the tree branches. Hurry, her mind screamed. Panting in terror, she dove beneath the water and wormed her way through the branches. Limbs scraped her arms, snagged her clothing, trying desperately to prevent the intrusion of its peaceful slumber.

She burst from underneath the water into the opening. Praying she was unexposed
to the sharp, well-trained eyes of her pursuers, Jade held her breath, not daring to make a sound. Even the smallest ripple in the water could betray her position.

Grass root
s overhead made Jade aware her hiding place was not far from the surface. If someone stepped on the area above her head, it could easily give way.

Cautiously,
she turned her head to check downstream. To listen, watch, and wait. Now that she no longer moved, she could better discern their movements. Then she saw them. Her heart nearly ruptured with fear. Her lungs labored for each breath. The warriors stood on the opposite side of the stream, searching the bank, speaking in their own language. Over the months, she had picked up several words and phrases. They argued about what had happened to their query.

Three Feathers spoke and
gestured wildly with his hands. It surprised her that he’d left his wife to grieve for her mother alone, or left his newborn child. But here he was, leading the pack to capture her, and only the Good Lord knew what else they had in mind. She didn’t dare imagine what that something else might be if the hanks of hair hanging from their lances were anything to judge by.

Who would claim her long tresses?

Time crawled as they went up and down the stream, looking for signs. Each would go from bank to bank searching then converge again on the shore directly in her line of vision. Why, oh why, wouldn’t they just give up and go home. Why couldn’t they leave her alone to find her way to whatever lay ahead of her.

Her throat constricted when
Black Hawk lifted his head and sniffed the air as if he sensed something. He stared across the bank directly at the tree she hid in. Could he see her? Fear paralyzed her. She didn’t dare take a breath. How could she? Fear had taken away her ability to breathe. Her lungs ached from the lack of air. She couldn’t risk any movement.

She
despised Black Hawk. He had a sadistic streak and was relentless in his cruelty toward her. He would give her orders then poke her with a long stick as if he were afraid to get too close to her. To touch her. If she failed to understand, or didn’t follow his orders fast enough, he poked her harder until she accomplished whatever task he’d set for her. Under his harsh treatment, she could feel his hatred bubble up from the black cauldron he called a heart.

He had taken two steps
toward the water when Three Feathers grabbed his arm. Black Hawk gave Three Feathers’ hand a hostile stare but made no move to enter the stream. Even at this distance, she understood the words they spoke in anger.

Three Feathers
stated, unequivocally, that he was leader. That it was his family who had lost a valuable slave, and he should be the one to discover if Jade was hiding in the branches of the downed oak.

She watched in horror as Three Feathers yanked his leather shirt over his head. Fear snatched what little inner strength she had left as he stepped out of his leather leggings to leave only a breechclout to cover his sleek, bronze body. Throwing his moccasins on the
bank, he dove into the deep, water.

Fear washed over her, clawing at her like some living organism, burrowing deep inside her, taking root in the marrow of her bone. The trembling of her body sent tiny ripples skimming across the water’s surface to
be captured in the limbs of her discovered sanctuary.

Three Feathers’ powerful
strokes sliced through the water toward her safe haven. The branches, which moments ago beckoned to her, now held her prisoner. She had no other place to hide, no place to run.

Pushing further back against the
bank, she felt trapped, helpless. Her life had been so short. Eyelids dropped over her eyes, she didn’t want to see the deathblow that took the last breath of life from her body. She silently released the air trapped in her lungs: a soft sound of acceptance of her fate.

With her e
yes squeezed shut, her other senses became more alert. She could almost track Three Feathers’ progress as he swam closer. Hear him breathe harder, faster, as he strained against the current. She knew the instant his long arm stretched out to take hold of what she regarded as her only dying hope. Now even that was gone.

The water soaked branches gave way as he searched for hiding places. Her body stiffened when she heard him dive under the water. Time suspended as she waited fo
r fate to play out her destiny.

Something
warm touched her cheek. Her heart stopped. Her eyes flew open. In her small refuge, Three Feathers tread water looking her straight in the eye. Jade never laid claim to courage, but at that moment, what little courage she had, fled in the blink of an eye. She wondered if a person could die from sheer fright. Her mouth opened, but she was too frightened to scream. He slid his finger from her check to press against her lips.

Long black hair lay wet against his tanned shoulders. His bare chest was strong and broad. She understood how Morning Dove would be attracted to this warrior. Fierce and proud
, he stood out among the other men in the village.

She waited for his shout of victory to alert the others
he’d found their prey. Minutes passed, with no cry of alarm. No shout of victory. His silence planted a seed of expectation in her heart. A crazy mixture of hope and fear quaked through her.

Dark eyes regarded her with something akin to pity. Did something more shine in their enigmatic depths?
Admiration?

~~~

Three Feathers gazed into the frightened eyes of the woman he called Flame. She had cared for his wife and her mother with great devotion. His wife’s mother had passed to the land of their ancestors, content, knowing her daughter had finally brought forth a man-child and he still lived. His wife had long given up hope of having a child of her own, until she’d had this woman’s care. As his wife’s time drew closer, he could see the fear in her eyes, thinking this child would be lost like the others. But Flame had brought his son into the world, and he was happy to call her friend.

When the sun rose
two days ago, Black Hawk had noticed her gone. He wanted to begin the hunt at that moment. The deadly gleam in his eyes alerted Three Feathers as to what Black Hawk planned for her when he captured her.

He
had delayed the impatient warrior long enough to mourn the death of his wife’s mother. Morning Dove had informed him she’d seen the white woman–dressed in Bird Song’s clothing–slip out of their sleeping hut after the last fires of the camp had died down. She did not want to raise the alarm and hinder the woman’s chance of escape. Suckling her child, she had allowed the woman to leave.

Flame had
never spoken to any of the clan, yet, he and his family sensed she longed to go back to her people. Fate had brought her to them for a reason: that reason lay nestled against his wife’s breast. He had left her and their new son to search for Flame because he didn’t want her found and brought back to face an uncertain fate.

Her eyes, wide with fear,
focused on his. Her breath came in shallow pants as if she had forgotten how to take air. He reached down, never taking his finger from her lips. He took the pouch his wife had presented to him the day they married and placed it in Flame’s chilled hand, curling her fingers around the wet leather. Inside was the food he always carried.

She had done well with her hiding place. Thre
e Feathers silently praised her. He had no doubt she would find her way out of the forest and join her people.

A ranch lay in the direction
Flame had taken, and he knew the owner was a good man. Several times the rancher had sat astride his horse, on top of a rise, and watched Three Feathers and his warriors cut cattle from his herd. The man had thrown up his hand, fingers splayed wide. Three Feathers had looked at the cattle, then back at the rancher, his hand still in the air. Three Feathers turned back two head, the man lowered his hand and Three Feathers had never taken more than five head each fall.

With a prayer to the Great Spirit that her journey be short, h
e dove beneath the tree’s branches and swiftly stroked his way back to join the other warriors. After a much-heated argument, and Black Hawk casting suspicious glances at Flame’s sanctuary, he convinced them to continue the search upstream.

Two days
after abandoning the hunt, he entered his sleeping hut and sat beside his wife and new son. Her eyes held the question he only dared to whisper the answer. “Flame is safe,” he murmured against her ear. “But, I will need another marriage pouch. She needed mine for her journey.”

~~~

Jade let out the breath she hadn’t realized she held. Her gaze lowered to Three Feathers’ pouch, and marveled at his gesture. In the months she had been with his clan, she’d never seen him without it. She assumed he held it in great regard. Why had he given it to her? Slowly she opened the pouch. When she saw the food, she nearly cried out in joy.

Jade slippe
d the pouch onto the belt of her stolen buckskin dress. Sinking beneath the branches, she wormed her way back into the stream. If Black Hawk and his companions went upstream, she was definitely going downstream. She rolled onto her back and let the current carry her until she felt safe enough to wade ashore.

She was going home
. But where was home? She didn’t have the slightest clue in what direction home lay. Vague memories of selling the home where she’d grown up crowded her mind. The harder she tried to remember the more her head throbbed.

The rumbling of wagons
roared, blocking out the sounds of the forest and left only screams of terror. Trembling, she put her hands over her ears to stop the horrible cries of death. She stumbled. Dazed, she glanced down at the rock she’d overturned. Leaning over, she carefully replaced the rock in its original position, dirt down. If Black Hawk returned, she wanted no signs left for him to follow.