So this month's theme is: On the Road Again
travel, journey, escape, runaway, being chased, fight or flight, getaway chase, bank robbery, train robbery, cattle drive, voyage, stagecoach/train/airplane travel, hiking, vacation, summer camp
In this case of this story, it is a combination of journey, escape, fight and flight. The story told in "Lost Knight" a novella published by Prairie Rose Publications, the hero Jack awakens in medieval Germany. He was killed in 2009, but his story was far from over.
Join me in this scene from the beginning of "Lost Knight-Out of Time".
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Pain…mind-numbing, blinding pain… Jack felt as though a hot poker was being thrust through his
chest. Gasping for air, he opened his eyes. He found himself surrounded by mist, and the muddy,
fishy smell of water. Nothing was familiar. The need to find where he was reigned foremost in his mind. The enemy could be anywhere, although Jack didn't remember any water being near his last location. Slowly, he lifted his head and upper body just enough to look over the stone wall.
"I don't remember any wall," Jack whispered to himself. The structure was only about two feet high, and beyond was a small, running river—a creek, really. The banks were lined with trees, so close together they created a wall themselves. Lying back, Jack noticed the stones, placed one on top of the other, with no mortar holding them in place. Nothing was familiar; not the wall, not the smell, not the surroundings. His training kept the panic at bay, but just barely.
"Where?" he whispered, fearful of who or what might be just around the bend of the creek or in the trees opposite where he lay. Sounds were muted. The river lapped against the shore; the sound, a rhythm, a never ceasing beat. Raising his head, he examined his surroundings in greater detail. Overgrowth. There had not been any of this in the desert where he'd been. This foliage was green, dense with the smell of old dirt and decaying leaves from many seasons. His mind focused on the sound of the creek, so like the one he'd played in as a child. Still, his senses refused to accept anything he was seeing.
Not only where, but Jack sensed a 'when' in the equation. Regaining his equilibrium, he realized nothing was familiar. Thinking back, Jack tried to remember where he had been before the pain urged him awake.
Images of Pete floated across his mind. The two of them sharing a smoke, talking about their friend, Frank, and his efforts to get a tooth pulled.
"Remember how Frank was so desperate he brought you a pair of pliers and begged you to pull his tooth?" Pete asked.
"I do," Jack had said, "and when I put the pliers in his mouth he screamed and ran away."
The two of them had laughed themselves silly. Then, he remembered the blossom of red that started across Pete's chest…immediately followed by a sting to his own chest. So this is how it feels, Jack thought. I'm not ready.
He was dead wasn't he?
Jack had no sooner realized he was supposed to be dead when he was greeted by three men, dressed in what looked like Renaissance costumes. They wore tunics, with light chainmail. Jack put his hand to his chest, realizing he was also dressed like the three men. What? Jack thought, only to be interrupted by a question from the group.
"Ho, friend Jacques, what happened to you?" cried the first. "We may be free knights, but we work together," the man continued.
"Yes, Jacques, why did you wander off?" questioned the second.
Jack looked around, wondering who they were speaking to. It sounded like his name, but more like the French would say it.
"Come, my friend, surely the wound you suffered did not affect your mind?" said the third.
Wound? Was a kill shot just a wound? Was this what hell was like? Jack wondered. "
Doris Gardner-McCraw -
Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in
Colorado and Women's History
Colorado and Women's History
Member of National League of American Pen Women,
Women Writing the West,
Pikes Peak Posse of the Westerners,
Angela Raines - author: Where Love & History Meet
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