Jerimiah's Gold

Chapter 21

The last explosion detonated, but it wasn't towards the back of the sheriff's office where the cell was located, the explosion blew off the entire front side of the building. A native American stood in the aftermath of the rubble, staring at me. Examining me. He turned back and shouted something in his language, and four men emerged from the smoke and flame. One of them was of a huge stature, and a muscular frame that rivaled Hercules. His hair wafted in the wind majestically as he made a slow approach towards me.

"Klara?" A deep baritone voice spoke to me.

I looked up at the man, his hair half covering his face. He wore handmade clothes that were obviously tanned from deerskin, and only covered half his chest anyway. The smoke was too dense to make out a familiar face.

"Yes?" I answered wearily.

He gave a grunt in acknowledgement and proceeded to walk towards me. As he approached the bars of my cell, his face was illuminated by the single lantern that hang overhead. It was Eagle Eye. The native chief I spoke to about seven weeks ago. My stomach fluttered with anticipation as my heart sank in graciousness. He gave me a half smile then proceeded to tear the sheriff's office apart looking for the key to the cell, before finally giving up and just shooting the padlock about five times until it busted off. He shoved open the cell doors and embraced me.

I crumbled in his arms and allowed myself to sob. I didn't know why I was crying, or why I was so emotional. The shock, obviously, but I've come close to death before. I rationalized that I was so upset only because I would have died by my very own tactic. Well, I shouldn't take the credit. Truly, Uncle Davis was the one who invented it, we all just kept doing it because it was effective. Being on the receiving end, though, being that close to death, it shook me to my core. Those poor innocent and frightful people that we've massacred, all for some cash.

"Klara, we must leave now." Eagle Eye said undisturbed by what just happened.

I just slowly nodded and allowed him to hold me up while we walked. I limped pathetically in exhaustion.

"Wiona," I croaked, "I have to find Wiona."

"Wiona?" Eagle Eye questioned.

"Yes, my horse. The white shire."

"Let us get you to camp, then we will search for your horse." He tried to comfort me.

"You don't understand, she isn't just some nag." I growled.

He was silent in response. He boosted me onto the back of his horse before her mounted himself. His men gathered in some sort of formation, and we rode west away from the scorched town. I bounced and bobbed on the back of Eagle Eye's horse as it galloped triumphantly from its victory.

"There were innocents." I croaked, but my statement either fell on deaf ears or uncaring ones.

We approached a small camp thirty minutes later. There were four canvas tents and a singular fire that stood in the middle. Eagle Eye helped me off his horse and sat me down on a piece of wood with an animal pelt draped over it. He offered me a tea and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, resembling a poncho. He sat directly in front of me, behind the flames of the fire. Orange and red flashed across his face as his men entered their tents. The sun had gone down tremendously, and the darkness of night cascaded over the sky. I sipped my tea. It was an herbal taste, similar enough to the one I had from them all that time ago, but not as potent. There were two mint leaves floating graciously atop the steaming liquid.

"So," He spoke, "we found some of your camps, and tracked you down that way." He admitted.

"Tracked me down? For what?"

"I don't rightly know, a vision came to our shaman. You were in danger. But of what danger, we could not decipher, so me and a handful of the tribes men set out to find and secure your safety." He explained.

"What makes me so important for you to hunt for me?"

"You showed my tribe a kindness and acceptance that we had not seen from any other civilized being. For that, we protect the soul that gives. You are the soul that nurtures, however, your path is unclear only because your intentions are unclear. You are both evil and holy, you are neutral in a world full of negatives. You think not of your feelings, but of your own success, while also caring for others and holding empathy in places where apathy is the most applicable. For this, Klara, we protect your soul, but not necessarily you as an individual. For, you are a murderer, you are a thief, and you are a heathen in the eyes of God. Thankfully for you, we do not hold such Christian faiths." A silence fell between us as I thought of what to say.

"Why did you burn down that town? Where did you learn to do that?" I asked.

He stared at me through the flames for a moment before finally saying, "The wolf, however dangerous alone, is much more effective and aggressive in its pack. We only took inspiration from those that wished nothing but destruction, and thus our wolf became unstoppable." He stood up and walked to one of the larger tents before stopping and looking back at me.

"Your path will find you, Klara Blaine, just don't lose yourself in that journey." Then he disappeared into his tent for the rest of the night.

I stayed, sat on the tree trunk. Pondering everything he said as I stared into the fire. What did he mean by I'll find my path? I thought my path was drawn out pretty broadly. I've got the gold, all I need now is to get back home to the family and my path would be complete, would it not? Drowsiness started to kick in. I stood to my feet and limped towards one of the smaller, vacant tents where I promptly fell asleep once I lied upon the sheepskin bedroll.