The Brave

Prologue

I was running as fast as my body would allow, I willed each foot to safely grip the slick ground in front of me; pushing my body so hard that I could no longer tell what my limbs were doing. My arms swung wildly, pushing branches and dripping leaves out of my path as best as I could in the darkness. My eyes remained set on the glimmer of light I could see between the trees in the distance. I could hear Joe close behind me, he was chasing me. His footsteps were gaining ever closer, each thud of his foot vibrated through my body with each second. 

The sensation of his fingernails scraping against my scalp caused me to yelp out in pain as he took a strong grip of my soaked hair; the tug of his powerful hand took me off balance, pulling me backwards and down to the floor.  He was shouting, I could see his mouth violently spitting words as he pushed his furrowed face towards mine. I just couldn't hear what he was saying. I don't know if it was the sound of the rain or the sound of my own thumping heartbeat that drowned out the sound of his voice. I was so focused on trying to hear what he was saying, that I didn't see his fist as he struck me. I certainly felt the sting as the delicate skin of my brow burst beneath the force of the blow. I felt my head sink backwards into the deepening mud, disorientated, I still tried to get away. 

I quickly rolled onto my front, feeling the sharp burning sensation as my hair, still entangled in Joe's fingers, ripped itself from my head. It's hard to recollect my thoughts in that moment; my mind was racing, not really comprehending what was happening to me or what I could do to help myself. Something hit me hard in the stomach, I heard my own voice forced out of my body as the blow physically rolled me back onto my back. It was in this moment that I felt the tight pain of fear,not for myself, but for my baby. Joe Landy could do as he liked to me, I could handle what he had to give. I could not allow him to hurt the baby inside me.

I had to move, I had to get back on my feet. I lodged my fingers deep into the cool sludge beneath me and as I struggled to regain control of my breath, I began pushing myself away from the tall figure standing above me. Before I could scramble away from him,he again took a fist full of my hair and began dragging me back in the opposite direction, the direction of his horse. I knew that if Joe overpowered me, I would not see the sun rise tomorrow. I started to struggle, digging my boots into the slippery mud. I tried to hit his hand with my own, to try to hurt him enough to let me go, but, I couldn't. His hands were strong and remained tightly gripped. 

Although I had not managed to hurt Joe, I had succeeded in fuelling his temper. I felt the blunt force of his fist against my face over and over. I'm not sure how many times he struck me but my thoughts started to become unfocused, distant and confused. I tried to focus on his face, to look at him, hoping that he would see my face instead of his own anger. His features danced wildly in front of me and when my eyes finally met his I could see that he wasn't looking at me, he was looking through me. His face twisted into a grotesque effigy of the boy I had known all of my life.

 It's funny, I didn't feel angry with him, even as his fists rained down over my head and face, I felt nothing.

The punching stopped. My first thought was that Joe had realised what he was doing and who he was doing it to. Even as a small boy, Joe's temper evaporated as quickly as it had started. Perhaps, he had exhausted himself and could no longer sustain his onslaught. I slowly opened my eyes. There were now two silhouettes standing against the light in the trees. Joe was standing still, his hands still clenched into fists at his side, his body swayed with his uncontrolled breathing. The other figure, whom I could not recognise in the darkness, stood frozen to the spot pointing a rifle at the back of Joe's head.

"You raise your fists again Joe, I'll put a bullet in you." The stranger's voice was low and calm. Joe turned his head towards the figure as he sarcastically spat his retort. "She 'ain't your woman, White."

 Thomas White pushed the barrels of his rifle further into the back of Joe's head as he spoke. "From what I hear, she 'ain't your woman neither. Now, get off my land."

 Joe's head nudged forward with the force of the barrels, I saw his fist clench with a surge of frustration. Joe's eyes met with mine, for a second, I was lost in the familiarity of their dark brown comfort.

Joe's lip curled into a half snarl as he exhaled loudly. Thomas's eyes never moved from his target. His face remained unchangingly emotionless and focused. Joe knew it would be foolish to test this man's threat and slowly released his grip and started to move past me and away from the gun. He turned round several times as he walked and sure enough, Thomas remained frozen with his rifle aimed. It seemed like an eternity waiting for Joe's form to disappear into the darkness of the trees and out of sight.  When it did, I turned my gaze back towards my rescuer. I watched the stranger as he lowered his aim. He did not speak, just moved his focus from the trees to my face. I looked up at him from the muddy pit in which I lay, unable to recognise the shape or voice of my ally. 

He threw his rifle over his shoulder and bent down towards me. I tried to look at his face, to learn the identity of the man who had come to my aid. Before my eyes could properly focus in the dim lights,he leaned in and picked up my whole body in one scoop. Even with my growing belly, I had never felt so small against the strong frame of this man. 

I had longed for a sense of safety for so long and I found it momentarily in the arms of a stranger. His grip was confident and powerful and coaxed by the security of his grip and gentle rocking of his steps, I had no choice but to give in and relax against his form.