Friends
by Matthew Walz
As each foot hit the ground, the weeds whipped across my knees
causing the water to soak my jeans. I looked around as I readjusted
my rifle that was slung across my back. Each stride was slowly
wearing me down, but I knew that I must keep going. I had to get
there before they did. The sky was gray with clouds and the mist in
the air had saturated everything, including me. The humidity was
terrible and I was sweating profusely as I kept running.
In the distance, I could see the trees of the river, but there
was one ravine to traverse. As I came closer to the ravine, I
allowed my body to relax, then I pushed myself over the edge of the
cliff. I pulled the rifle over my head and held it in my left hand
as the wind rushed up around me. The breeze felt good and it
evaporated most of my sweat, but soon I had to brace myself for the
hard landing.
I stuck both feet out in front of me and held my arms out to
the side, preparing to hit hard. The ground and I met, colliding at
a great speed, but I bent my knees and rolled down hill with the
force. My body did about three somersaults as I tried to stop
myself. Then I fell over another drop off. Barely having enough
time to realize what had happened, I hit again. This time the
landing was much softer for there I was knee deep in mud. I scanned
around to see how I could get out of this, but found nothing. My
only choice was to wade through to the other side.
Once on the other side, I slung my rifle over my shoulders
again and began my ascent. The climb was easier than I thought and
soon found myself on top. I began to run again, this time my legs
ached, and the cuts on my arms started to bleed a little more. Soon,
I found myself in the trees; working my through it was harder than I
imagined it would be at first, but soon it opened up a little and I
could run full speed.
I pushed branches out of my way, ducked under the bigger ones,
and jumped over the logs on the ground. I felt like I was in a huge
obstacle course, but I had to push on.
"Howdy!" Someone said. I did not slow up as they stepped in
front of me, but swung my rifle around and aimed it at him. The
trigger seemed extra soft as I pulled it back. The bullet ripped
through his chest, but he didn't even realize he had been hit. I
chambered another round and squeezed again. This time it hit him
squarely between the eyes. I jumped over his body as it fell to the
ground. I looked down at his rifle and realized that he had fired
several rounds at me for there was casings on the ground and his
rifle was smoking slightly. Close call.
I heard a scream and picked up my pace even though I was going
as fast as I could. I broke through the clearing and saw two men
behind my wife asking questions and pushing her a little closer to
the edge of the cliff. Something flashed to my right. I turned to
see someone with a knife right in front of me. Putting my right hand
up to block, I used my left to draw my knife. I side stepped and
yanked his head back, slitting his throat simultaneously. His body
stiffened, then fell limp to the ground. A gun shot rang out, so I
dove behind a tree. Then I realized that they were not aiming at me
as I saw my wife's body fall forward. The bullet had hit her in the
back of the head. I could tell by the blood on her face.
Everything became silent as I watched her body fall. Her soul
had already left her dead body, for she did not even scream as she
fell over a hundred feet. I raised my rifle, squeezed a round off,
chambered another and squeezed it off. One body fell over the edge.
I scanned around for the other person. He had disappeared.
I awoke with a start when the doorbell rang and looked over at
my wife. Only she was not there. It had been three days since the
ordeal and no trace of the other guy.
I grabbed my Colt .45 as I walked towards the door, just in
case. I looked out the window before opening the door, for I did not
want to take a chance. There was nobody there. Then there was a
loud bang as the backdoor burst open. I grabbed my shirt hanging off
the coach and jumped out the living room window. My bare feet hit
the ground and I rolled with the force. Jumping back to my feet, I
took off running. The grass was still wet with due and the sun was
just barely above the horizon. I kept running.
Suddenly I heard a gun shot. Then another, and another. I saw
red fly in front of me, and it did not dawn on me what it was. Not
until a sharp pain traversed through my entire left side. I must keep
running. I must keep running. I looked at my bare feet and realized
that I was not moving. They were covered with a red glaze from my
bullet wounds. I turned around to see who had shot at me. In the
distance I could see the man who shot my wife. I squeezed the trigger
of my Colt several times. As everything faded out, I could barely make
out the image of a body falling to the ground. Yes, I could see my best
friend falling to the ground as we both slipped into another dimension.