Cheyenne Captive

by Georgina Gentry - Iron Knife's Family 01 - Cheyenne Captive

  Now, she was acutely sensitive of other sounds in the woods besides the roaring flames—the small cries of doomed wildlife that fled along with the humans. Everything that still lived in the forest was trying to make it to the water.

  A frightened cottontail rabbit dashed past her, its small puff of a tail on fire, and as she stared in horror, it fell on the path before her and died in a sudden burst of flame. Immediately, the dry leaves beneath the tiny body ignited and she dodged past the small funeral pyre, the new outbreak.

  Deer scampered past her, hardly seeming to see the humans as they ran instinctively toward the river somewhere up ahead.

  A black bear, then a panther, brushed her, paying no heed to her or each other as they loped ahead of the flames. None of the racing animals seemed to see or react to each other. A stag dashed along beside the bear and the panther, rabbits brushed against running bobcats. All concentrated only on the universal enemy.

  Behind her, she still heard squeals of protest by tiny, chattering squirrels trapped in the treetops by the flames already eating at the trunks of the tall oaks. She glanced upward. Some of the little fox squirrels moved from tree to tree through the upper branches, staying ahead of the fire. Others, too terrified to think clearly, retreated to the refuge of their nests built of tree branches and roasted alive there as the fire trapped them.

  Over her own agonized breathing, she could hear the protesting bird calls as jays, scissortails, and hawks took to the air. Some flew toward the river and the trees on the other side. Others, disoriented, flew right into the flames.

  Summer tripped, went to her knees.

  Ahead, Iron Knife turned back toward her. “Little One, you must run! We aren’t that far from the river now!”

  He waved in frantic, encouraging gestures as he ran toward her. “Summer, look out!”

  Wearily, she raised her head, glanced up to see what it was he saw, what his frantic voice and hands warned her of.

  A tall pine nearby, flames burning through its base, swayed and trembled, even as she stared up in disbelieving horror toward the sky.

  Iron Knife dashed toward her. “Summer, run!”

  She tried. For a split second, she stared at the leaning giant pine, realized it was going to fall. Her brain sent signals to her exhausted legs and she attempted to flee.

  She almost made it. Even as she turned and ran, the big tree came down with a reverberating crash. Her world was a sudden forest of heavily scented pine boughs. She wondered as she lay on the ground whether she were dead.

  Iron Knife hacked savagely with his big blade at the limbs covering her. “Summer! Little One! Are you all right?”

  “I—I think so.” She took mental inventory of her body as he fought his way through the pine branches to her side. “I think I’m okay. Wait—”

  “What is it?” He knelt, looked anxiously into her eyes as he gathered her into his strong arms.

  “My ankle’s caught!” She pulled frantically on her left leg, unwilling to believe what her mind had comprehended.

  “Let me help you to your feet.”

  She could tell by his eyes he didn’t believe it either, didn’t want to believe it. He tried to lift her and she whimpered.

  “No, it’s true!” She looked into his eyes, the terror growing on her. To be trapped in the fire was a death sentence. “I—I can feel a limb across my left ankle.”

  She saw the unspeakable horror in his eyes as they both looked toward the spreading flames of the tree’s trunk. The fire was chewing its way greedily the length of the giant pine. In a few minutes, it would spread to the smaller limbs, to the one that held her prisoner.

  Iron Knife hacked through the pine needles with his big knife down to her feet. When he turned back to look at her, she read her death sentence in his tortured eyes.

  “Summer, I—I can’t cut through this limb, it’s too big, almost as big around as my arm! I could cut through it maybe if I had a lot of time . . .” His voice trailed off and he did not finish.

  Time, she thought when she glanced at the wall of red flames blowing toward them. Time was the one thing they didn’t have.

  He bent now, wrapping his arms around the limb. “If I can lift it just an inch or two so you can pull your foot out . . .” Sweat stood out on his bare chest as he struggled and strained. The limb didn’t move at all.

  His face grew frantic as he looked back toward the flames moving up the trunk, the wall of fire blowing through the forest toward them. She saw the reflection of the flames in his dark eyes as he tried again.

  “Pull, Summer! If I can just move it a fraction of an inch, you can pull your foot out!” His great muscles bulged and strained, sweat broke out all over his smooth brown body as he struggled with the weight of the tree.

  Summer pulled on her foot, but she only felt the scrape of raw skin stinging, and she knew then she wasn’t going to be able to free herself.

  “It’s no use!” she gasped. “You’ll have to think of something else!”

  There was nothing else; they both knew it. But he would not quit. She could feel the heat of the flames moving closer, taste the grit of the ashes floating on the air. She saw blood on his hands as he struggled with the pine bough, fought its rough bark for possession of Summer’s body.

  For a moment, calm returned to her soul as she faced the inevitability of death. Only a few short hours ago, she had finally found what life was all about when she had discovered love.

  Had it only been a few short hours? She stared at the moving flames, coughed from the heat and black smoke as she watched her love struggle to move the tree. All her life, she had been searching for love. Now that she had finally found it, was she going to lose it along with her life and his, too?

  But the fire need not take him, she thought abruptly. He was free to escape if only he would. Her lover could live and she was going to give him that chance.

  “Iron Knife, go on!” she urged. “You can make it to the river! Your legs are long and swift! Go on! Go without me!”

  He paused, came back up the trunk to her, bloody scratches on his big body from the rough bark. He looked at her as if he didn’t comprehend what she was saying.

  “Go on? Without you? Never!”

  She reached up to embrace him. “Yes, love, there’s no point in both of us dying because you can’t free me. If you love me, go on to the river. Live for both of us!”

  “No,” he answered defiantly. “I’ve only just found you. I won’t live without you. If you die, I want to die, too!”

  “But the fire . . .” Her voice trailed off. They both stared at the moving flames. At that moment, a deer dashed by, it’s coat in flames. It fell near them, kicking and writhing in agony until it was totally consumed.

  Iron Knife took her face in his two hands, looked down at her. Summer closed her eyes, remembering the deer, imagining how it would feel to burn alive as the fire flashed up the trunk of the fallen tree, reaching her feet first...

  “Go on, Iron Knife,” she whispered, determined to save him but not wanting to die alone. Her long blond hair, she thought, would go up like a torch, and she would be a mass of red flames for a few seconds before death took her.

  “No,” he said again, and she wasn’t sure if it was sweat or tears running down his rugged bronze face, “I won’t leave you, Little One, now that I’ve finally found you. If need be, we’ll die together!”

  He took her in his powerful arms, kissing her forehead gently. She gloried in the feel of him, remembering the warm sand of the creek. If she must die, this was the way she wanted to go, held in the protection of his big arms the way he had held her only this afternoon, so many lifetimes ago.

  But she would not permit herself that luxury. Even as his lips brushed hers gently, the fire moved closer and she knew what she had to do. The flames were consuming the big pine now. In only a minute or so more, it would be at her feet.

  Reluctantly, she tore herself from his grasp. “You must go!” she urged. “F
or you to die is useless when your people need you so. The truth is—I—never really cared for you. I regret my passion already. I—I would try to go back to my people if you freed me.”

  She saw the sudden pain as she mentioned his people, saw him react to the lie that she didn’t want him. Only those two things could hit the most vulnerable depth of his heart and she knew it.

  “Even if you lied to me, I—I can’t leave you to die like this, Summer, all alone, in agony....”

  “Your people need you. I don’t. I never really did. You—you were only a moment’s pleasure, a prize for a rich white girl.” She lied, pushing him away. His life was more important to her than her own. She would do whatever it took to save him. “Go on, you dirty heathen, run!”

  His face was a mask of agony, of indecision. “I—I can’t Little One. I can’t leave you to die this terrible death alone, no matter whether what you say is true!”

  She could feel the fire’s hot breath now. The smoke was so thick, she could hardly see him as he knelt by her.

  And then, she knew what the answer was as she looked at the big knife in his belt.

  “Don’t let the fire get me, Iron Knife,” she urged, gripping his hands with the intensity of her plea. “You’re skilled with the blade. You could end my life instantly.”

  He jumped back, startled. “No! I couldn’t do that!”

  “You can! You must!” Tears came to her eyes. She reached out, jerked the gleaming dagger from his belt, tried to press it into his unwilling hand.

  “No!” He dropped the knife as if it were a poisonous snake. “That I can never do!”

  She looked deep into his eyes, pleading with her own. “Can you leave me here to die in slow agony like the deer? Your blade is razor sharp, and it would be over in a flash for me. Is that not better than roasting slowly while I scream in pain?”

  Summer saw that the logic had touched his heart, although she saw the conflict of the terrible choice in his dark eyes. Very slowly, he leaned over, picked up the knife. As he looked deep into her eyes, she saw the love and torture of the decision on his features.

  The terrible heat became almost unbearable on her tender skin as the fire moved up the trunk. She only had another minute or two.

  She reached up to him almost in prayer. “If I mean anything to you, save me from this terrible death.”

  He bent over to kiss her. She tasted the salt of tears on his rugged face.

  Summer wiped a stray tear off his high cheekbone. “Make it swift,” she murmured, and bit her lips to hold back her vow of eternal love.

  Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she offered up her slender neck for his expert kill. I wonder if it will hurt, she thought, then steeled herself for the slash of the blade across her throat.

  She, heard the agony of his breathing over the roar of the fire as it moved toward her. A stray spark lit on her skin and she brushed it away hurriedly. Only a moment more and the pine boughs around her would be aflame.

  “Quickly!” she commanded without opening her eyes. “Quickly, if you love me! Then save yourself, go back to your people, and forget me!”

  She waited for his action. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. He stood poised with the knife high, ready to bring it down across her slender throat. And when she looked into his face, she saw agony as he looked back at her.

  “I must try to lift the tree one more time,” he decided as he ran to grasp the trunk. “Part of it has burned away. Maybe that might lighten it a few pounds!”

  “Iron Knife! There isn’t time!” she protested in vain, watching him as he grasped the trunk. “You will be trapped by the fire yourself! Kill me, and flee while there’s still time!”

  But he seemed to pay her no heed as he threw his weight into the mighty effort. The sparks from the fire were showering down on him and he winced as he struggled.

  She watched his huge muscles bulge and strain with the effort. Sweat ran down his great body as he lifted. Near her head, a spark set the grass aflame. She beat it out with her bare hands.

  And still, he struggled with the effort to lift the tree.

  She had to save him! “Run, dear one, the fire is upon us! Save yourself!”

  The heat from the flames began to scorch her tender skin and she coughed and strangled on the smoke. Only a few seconds and the flames will envelop us both, she thought wildly. She called out in protest to Iron Knife, urging him again to give her a quick, merciful death and run for the river.

  If he heard her, he ignored her, for he gave no sign except that his head went back and he called out, “Great Heammawihio, look down upon me now and give me strength as you once gave Sampson in the Black Book my mother read to me! Please, Heammawihio!”

  With that, he gave it one more try, and she knew he was putting everything he had into a last great effort because there was no time for more.

  For a split second, the giant Indian’s powerful muscles bulged and rippled with the effort as the straining sinews stood out in his neck and legs. Sweat ran off him in trickles of pain as he lifted.

  Summer glanced at the moving wall of flame.

  “You can’t do it, dearest! Give up and save yourself!”

  His strength was going into his lift and she saw him mouth the words, not without you ... both or none . . .

  Sparks from the advancing flames fell around her in a shower of heat as the fire moved up the trunk closer to the man. He was surely being scorched by the proximity of the fire, she thought in terror as he struggled with the burning tree.

  It was too late, she thought, too late for either of them. They were both going to burn alive and she screamed at him, urging him again to save himself. Even as she did, his muscles quivered with his mighty effort and she felt the tree move.

  Hardly daring to hope, she held her breath and watched him lift and strain.

  Summer glanced at the flames around them. “Oh, dear God, help him,” she prayed. “Don’t let him die for me!”

  In that instant, the burning part of the trunk fell away, making the weight lighter, and the tree moved just a fraction. Not much, only a scant inch or so, but it was enough. She could feel the weight lift off her imprisoned ankle and she pulled her leg free, scraping the skin raw as she managed to crawl out from under the big branch. She was free!

  Summer struggled to her feet as Iron Knife ran to her and grasped her hand.

  His eyes said everything as he half-dragged her. “We’ll make it now, Little One! Run! We can still make it to the river!”

  She started forward and staggered, almost fell except that he caught her in his strong arms. “My ankle!” she wept in bitter disappointment. “I think it’s badly sprained! I can’t walk! You must go on without me!”

  But he swung her up in his arms. “Little One, do you think I went through all this only to lose you now? I’ll carry you if I have to!”

  And suiting action to the word, he started to run.

  Looking over his shoulder, she saw the place where she had lain trapped burst into flames and shuddered at the image that came to her mind. Scarlet, angry flames consumed the whole pine tree. Then, the greedy fire moved relentlessly forward, pushed by the strong, rising wind.

  She held on to Iron Knife’s neck as he ran with her in his arms, but she felt the quivering in his exhausted muscles. All his strength and energy had gone into lifting the tree off her leg and there was not much left to make it another mile to the river carrying her weight.

  The flames were moving too fast, Summer realized as she buried her face against his chest so she couldn’t see. They weren’t going to make it after all his effort. She could feel his great heart pounding against her face with the effort. At least they would die in each other’s arms, she thought.

  She kissed his shoulder gently and closed her eyes as he labored with the effort of his running. The fire was gaining on them. She didn’t want to see the wall of flames when it caught them.

  “My love,” she whispered against hi
s neck. “Oh, my love! We aren’t going to make it after all, but we’ll die in each other’s arms!”

  Chapter Seven

  Summer sobbed against his neck as the hopeless realization swept over her. “Leave me behind, dear one,” she wept. “You might make it to the river alone but you’ll never make it carrying me!”

  His breathing grew labored as his great chest sought air. “Hush, Little One,” he gasped, “we’ll either make it together or die together!”

  She tried to protest again and struggled in his arms. But he no longer answered her as he stumbled forward, both of them choking on the black smoke as the line of fire moved behind them.

  She could see the river ahead now, near and yet so very far. Too far, she thought as she looked over his shoulder at the relentless flames blowing after them. She felt the trembling of his lithe muscles, the falter of his long gait as Iron Knife moved, knew he was almost to the limit of his endurance.

  Ahead of them lay the rocky banks and shining water of the Arkansas. Frantic animals—deer, bobcat, panthers, rabbits—scampered past them and into the lifesaving water.

  How strange, she thought, almost in a daze, the animals ignored each other as they crowded into the stream. Large and small, predators and vegetarians, all waded about side by side in the water without trouble. They were all too intent on the great fire.

  The blaze gained on the man. Summer could feel the heat blowing behind them. She hid her face against his big shoulder, shielding her tender skin from the heat. The trees thinned out on the landscape to open prairie and the fire ran along behind the running man like a molten river of scarlet, flowing over the dry grass, the small bushes.

  She had never thought before about the sounds of fire, the labored breathing of those struggling to make it. Behind her, she heard frantic calls and sounds of desperate animals running. Some staggered with exhaustion and finally fell, kicking frantically, too tired to keep up the pace. The greedy fire consumed them as it raced forward.