Outlander

The Beginning

I woke to the sun glaring down at me, the grass itching my skin and a stiff neck. Sitting up I ran a hand through my long hair freeing twigs and grass that were caught in the knots.
I wasn't sure as to why I passed out but I thought that the best thing to do was to go home, maybe I had low iron, so I walked down the hill towards the car.
I stopped short in my step when I didn't see my car, or the road. 'What...' I said to myself. I turned around in a slow circles, taking in everything around me but there wasn't anything man made for miles.
I wondered around trying to make sense of my situation but I couldn't, I just couldn't.
Suddenly I heard gunshots, men yelling and the thunder of horses galloping and I ran, wildly, in no specific direction.
The trees grabbed at my face and dress and I believe that I lost a shoe, but I didn't care I just ran like my life depended on me.
The ground was wet under foot, and I was on a heavy decline running wildly so it didn't surprise me when I slipped and fell. It was in slow motion, the ground came close to my face, the scent of wet leaves and fresh dirt filled my nostrils as I rolled and rolled.
I saw that there was a sharp drop off, and I was heading straight for it. I tried to turn, I tried to dig my feet into the ground to stop myself but my mind was too slow and I was travelling too fast.
I flew off and landed with a loud thud and the air escaped my lungs and stayed that way for a while as I laid there stunned. It turned out that the drop was only a metre long but it hurt none the less, my body was aching from it.
'Who are you?' A mans rough voice, distinctly British, came from my left.
My head snapped towards him before I jumped up to my feet my body forgetting my pain. I took in his polished black boots, white pants and his red coat which screamed to me that he was a soldier. Although what really stood out to me was that he looked exactly like Bailey, same face shape, and hair except it was long and tied back under a hat.
'Bailey!' I took a step towards him before stopping.
'I'm not Bailey. Now, who are you?' He takes a few steps towards me.
He was now about five meters away from me and I took a small step back.
'Cybele Coddington' I wasn't going to give him Baileys name incase he tried to hold me for ransom, although he will find it out very soon when Bailey contacts the police and it's all over the news. 'Who are you?' I lifted my chin to try and show him that I wasn't scared.
'Captain Jonathon Wolverton Randall of His Majesty's Dragoon's, here at your service.' I nodded before turning and running.
I heard heavy footsteps behind me as he gave chase which ended abruptly as I came face to the rock ledge that I came hurtling over minutes ago.
Suddenly a sharpe blade was blocking my left and I turned and came face to face with Randall my husbands apparent ancestor.
'HELP!, HELP ME!' I screamed.
'Who are you?' He snarled.
'I told you!' I whimpered.
'What are you doing out here, dressed in nothing but your undergarments? Are you are whore?'
'No! How dare you?'
'We will have to see for ourselves then, shall we?' He threw me around so that I was pushed against the rock wall and he lifted the back of my dress. I was just screaming hysterically now, hoping that someone could save me.
'I'm not a fucking whore get off me your sadistic asshole! HELP, HELP ME!' I kicked my leg up between his legs and heard him groan and his grip loosen. I twisted around and watched a man in complete Scottish attire, dark hair and beard smack Randall over the head.
Randall dropped like a sack of shit and the Scot grabbed my arm and took off in the other direction, and I let him.