Tag: mystic

Agents of the Vault – Part 24

Part 24 of The Agents of the Vault is here!  Trinity fallout!  Who survived?  Who didn’t?  What happens next?

If you want to subscribe to the Grantcast, you can do so with iTunes, or by using this feed in your favorite podcatcher.  Enjoy!  And let me know what you think of the story in the comments here, as we go along.

Also, if you prefer a PDF version of this part to read, CLICK HERE for that.

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Agents of the Vault
Part 24
By Grant Baciocco

“I’m on a boat.” Was the next thing Charlie remembered thinking to himself.  “How did I get on a boat?”  His body was slowly rocking back and forth.  “Am I dreaming?”  He tried to focus his thoughts but they were cloudy.  His eyes were closed but in his mind he saw the single star shining through the smoke.  The last thing he saw after Jane was engulfed in flames.

As he focused, his senses slowly returned.  His body was rocking back and forth but he was not on a boat.  It was far to bumpy to be a boat.  His chest hurt badly.  The more he thought about it, everything hurt badly, but it was as if his chest was the epicenter of the pain.  He wanted to open his eyes, but he felt that that would cause more pain.  Every twitch of his fingers or wiggle of his toes seemed to cause lightning bolts of pain to shoot everywhere in his body.  Every jostle or bump from whatever vehicle he was in caused him pain.  Inhaling deeply, he opened his eyes.

The blue sky of dawn above the prairie greeted his gaze.  He got lost in the blue for a moment.  It wasn’t until he felt something pulling at his chest that he began to look around.

Without raising his head, he looked to his left and saw the wooden slats of the side of a wagon.  That explained the bumps.  He was in a wagon, not a boat.  He moved his eyes up to look above his head and saw two men driving the wagon.  He could see that one of them held a shotgun.  Neither of the men looked familiar, but all he could see was their backs.

Looking to his right he saw a man sitting next to him.  An older man with scraggly white hair and tiny, horn rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose.  He wore a white shirt, with he sleeves rolled up under a black vest.  He was set about his work, pursing his lips as he did.  It took Charlie a moment to realize that the work this man was working on, was him.

Charlie inhaled and tried to form the word, “What?”

The man working on him gave Charlie a sideways glance.  “Morning kid.”  He went back to his work.  “Just stitching you up now.  Removed that bullet.  Nasty sucker.”

Charlie had heard the words through the pain ringing in his ears.  He took a few deep breaths.  Then inhaled and formed the word, “Who?” weakly.

The man continued to work, bandaging Charlie’s freshly stitched wound.  “Doc Harvey.” The man replied.  “I work with the Agents of the Vault.”

At the mention of the words “The Vault,” everything came flooding back to Charlie.  The Vault, the gunfight, Jane, Grisom, the desk, the fire.  Images and words poured into his brain as if suddenly snapped back to reality.  He instantly had a million questions but knew that in his current state, one word was all he would be able to get out.


At the mention of her name, Doris’ head popped up to Charlie’s right and she gave out a low whistle.  Smiling made new pains make themselves known in Charlie’s body, but it was a pain he gladly accepted knowing that Doris was safe.  Doris nuzzled her head up against Charlie’s and Charlie’s eyes closed with relief and, again slipped back into the blackness.

The next time Charlie opened his eyes, he could instantly tell that the pain that had overwhelmed his entire body had subsided.  In its place was a deep, body wide ache.  He quickly decided that he could live with that ache.  He was inside now.  A wooden room with the walls painted white.  Slowly propping himself up on his elbows to look around, he realized that the room he was in, though brightly lit by a few lanterns and candles, had no windows.

He was shirtless and, looking down, he could see his chest, where Jane had shot him was bandage.  The skin peeking out from under the edges of the bandage was bright pink with hints of bruising beginning.  He sat all the way up and at the sound of doing so, Doris came scrambling into the room.  Her claws clicking across the wooden slat floor as she ran.  She let out a long whistle as she closed the distance between the door and the bed.  Charlie saw her and held up his hands, causing his whole body to ache.

“Easy!” he shouted, his voice dry and crackled from not being used.  “Easy girl!”

Doris leapt into the air.  Charlie braced himself, but she landed gingerly on his bed without touching him at all.  Charlie opened his eyes and got a big, lick that smelled of sulfur.  He reached out and scuffled her ears, ignoring the deep ache in his chest.  It was just so good to see her.

“You’re awake.” A voice at the doorway said, it was Doc Harvey.  He crossed to the bed grabbing a chair that was against the wall and brought it bedside.  He sat down on it and took out his glasses, hooking the ends of them over his ears.  “Let’s take a quick look at that wound and we’ll get you up and out of here.”

Doc began pulling the bandages from the wound.  Charlie decided not to look down and examine it himself.  He’d prefer not to pass out.

“You had a bottle of Whittenmore dirt on you.” Doc said as he looked closely at the stitches holding the bullet wound together on Charlie’s chest, giving them a gentle poke here and there with his index finger.  “You get that from Grisom?”

“Yes, sir.” Charlie replied.  “He gave it to me right before the final showdown.”  Charlie suddenly turned to Doc and grabbed his hand, “Girsom!  Where’s Grisom, did he make it?”

Doc looked up at Charlie and sighed, “No kid, I’m afraid not.”

Charlie was silent.  Doris, who understood what was being said, scooted herself under Charlie’s arm.  He squeezed her tight.

“The Whittenmore dirt is powerful stuff but it doesn’t work miracles.” Doc said, beginning to reapply the bandage to Charlie’s wound.  “He died defending a piece of history, that was his job.” He added matter of factly.

Charlie looked down at Doris, trying to not let Doc see the tears forming in his eyes.  “So, the desk made it?”

“Oh yes,” Doc said.  “Came through just fine.  You did a fine job keeping it safe.”

“It was Grisom.” Charlie replied.  “I didn’t do anything.”

Doc stood and wiped his hands on his vest.  “Don’t sell yourself short kid.  If you hadn’t been there this could have all gone differently.  Because of you the desk is here in The Vault.  And as an added attraction, we now know of not one but two Prairie Fires—“

“No.” Charlie immediately cut him off.  “The Prairie Fires don’t belong to The Vault.  Doris is mine and Pahaat needs to be returned to the indians.”

Doc laughed, “Of course.  If you were listening to me I said, ‘We know about two Prairie Fires.’  I didn’t say we now have two of them.  We have no plans on keeping them and would prefer returning them to the wild.”

Charlie nodded, still shocked at the news of Grisom’s death.

“I have to ask.” Doc continued.  “What did you do to Jane?  We found her, burnt to a crisp.”

Charlie searched his memory of the night in Trinity and it was fuzzy.  The last thing he saw of Jane, she had burst into flames.  He turned back to Doc.  “The Prairie Fires.  They got her.”

Doc looked over at Doris who was now on her back, paws up in air, loving her belly being scratched by Charlie.  Doris looked up at him and gave him an upside down smile.  Doc shook his head and let out a whistle, “They can be vicious if they want to be.”

Charlie nodded.  “So what’s next?”

Doc sighed, “Well, we’ve been talking a lot about you here kid.  With the reports that Grisom sent back about you and the way you pulled through two nights ago, well, we figure you’d make a right fine proper Agent of the Vault.”

Charlie turned and looked at Doc.  “But, I don’t know nothing.  Outside of what Grisom ever told me.”

“Well, of course not, but you’re here now, in the The Vault.  We’d tell ya all you needed to know.” Doc said, “You and Doris could go out on missions, you know, if you’d want to.  We’d love to have you.”  Doc reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of folded leather.  He tossed it to Charlie.  Charlie opened it up and saw Grisom’s badge.  “Whether you decide to join us or not,” Doc said as Charlie ran his finger over the silver badge, “I think Grisom would have wanted you to have that.  If you decide to join us, feel free to consider that your badge.

Charlie nodded, then looked up from the badge in his hands. “Could my first mission be returning Pahaat to the indians?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Doc, smiling.  “Sounds like a good place to start.”  Doc turned to leave, “You just rest here and when you’re feeling up to it, we’ll set you up and send you out.”

“Thank you,” Charlie said.

©2015 Grant Baciocco/Saturday Morning Media – www.SaturdayMorningMedia.com

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Agents of the Vault – Part 23

Part 23 of The Agents of the Vault is here! The final shootout on the streets of Trinity.

If you want to subscribe to the Grantcast, you can do so with iTunes, or by using this feed in your favorite podcatcher.  Enjoy!  And let me know what you think of the story in the comments here, as we go along.

Also, if you prefer a PDF version of this part to read, CLICK HERE for that.

Finally, if you’d like to support my projects, visit www.patreon.com/saturdaymorningmedia

Agents of the Vault
Part 23
By Grant Baciocco

The first shot Jane fired caught Grisom in the shoulder and spun him.  As he spun, Charlie fired right over Grisom’s head in the direction of where the shot had come from.  As Charlie ran along the front of the hotel, he spied some barrels across the street and Brenner’s hat sticking up behind them.  He crossed his left hand under his right and fired a shot off in that direction.  Brenner’s hat sailed off his head.

“Get him Charlie.” Grisom shouted indicating Brenner, and Charlie ran down the wooden porch of the hotel toward the corner.

Grisom was on his butt, back up against the front railing of the hotel’s front porch.  He cocked both his guns, grimaced in the expectation of the pain that was about to rip through his body, and then kicked himself up in one motion to a standing position and fired off two shots in the direction where Jane had fired from.  She answered back with a shot, all three shots went wild.

As Charlie made the end of the hotel and dashed around the corner, Brenner fired three shots.  Each just missed Charlie as he ran, but he was able to make the corner and turn it.  Once around he took a deep breath and then slid his back a little ways down the wall so he would be lower when he swung around to fire.

Already he could feel the heat of the fire from inside the hotel radiating through the wooden slats.  The hotel would not provide much of a hiding place for long.

Inhaling, Charlie spun the corner, took aim near the barrels and when Brenner popped up, he fired.  Two shots.  One, from his left pistol, going wide and the other, from his right pistol, catching Brenner in the side, sending the Pinkerton stumbling back behind the barrels, still on his feet.

Charlie didn’t hesitate, he sprung from the corner and advanced on Brenner firing both guns.  Brenner’s head jerked back as a bullet passed through it.  The Pinkerton fell to the dusty ground, dead.

A gunshot rang out up the street from him and Charlie spun to see Grisom falling back to the dirt.  As Grisom’s body fell, it revealed Jane standing in the street, her smoking gun still aimed at where Grisom had been standing.  Without thinking, Charlie raised his guns and began advancing on Jane.

Jane pulled the hammer back on her pistols and aimed them at Charlie.

“Boy!” she yelled over the growing roar of the hotel fire which thrust the twilight on the prairie into light and shadows.  “Don’t be stupid.  Just turn around and walk away.  You’ll live.  That’s about as good a deal as anyone here is going to get today.”

Charlie ignored her, the smoke making his throat want to cough as he advanced through it towards the Pinkerton.  He was within 5 yards of Grisom’s body and through his peripheral vision, he could see a large pool of blood growing underneath him.

Charlie felt rage build up in him and felt his finger tighten on the triggers of his pistols.  A shot fired and Charlie froze.  His mouth open, he looked down at the bloodstain that was quickly soaking through his shirt.  He dropped to his knees in the street.

Jane, a slow smile spreading on her face, slowly began closing the distance between them.  Charlie’s arms dropped to his sides as she approached.

“You can’t say I didn’t give you the chance, boy.” Jane growled.  “Now I hope you see you should have taken it.”

“I can’t let you take the desk.” Charlie said, his breath coming heavier, the pain of being shot starting to fill his body.  “Can’t let you take Doris.”

Jane smiled.  The pistol in her right hand aimed directly at Charlie’s head.  “I will get one, or both here today, you can count on that.  Grisom can’t stop me any longer.  And now, you can’t stop me.”

Charlie began to raise his right hand, but the pain was immense.  Jane stood backed and kicked the guns out of his hands.  Jane pulled back the hammer on her pistol.

“Just close your eyes kid, it’ll soon be over.”  Jane’s finger squeezed on the trigger.

Right before the gun discharged, Jane heard a sound behind her.  A high pitched whistled, suddenly joined by a second creating an eerie harmony.  Jane spun, expecting to see Grisom, somehow, still alive, but saw that behind her in the street stood Doris and Pahaat.  Before Jane could register that it was the prairie fires making the sound that had now drown everything else out, they both opened up their jaws and engulfed her in a solid column of fire, consuming her completely.

Charlie fell backwards as the fire engulfed his enemy, he was vaguely aware of her screams as she ran wildly from where she stood.  Charlie looked upwards.  The sky was black ink above him, smoke rising up into it from the hotel fire was being illuminated by Jane’s burning body.  Though the smoke he could see the faintest star shining in the night sky and he focused on that, as his hand slowly moved to his pocket, inch by inch searching for the small glass vial of dirt that was there.

His fingers closed around the vial and his world went dark.

©2015 Grant Baciocco/Saturday Morning Media – www.SaturdayMorningMedia.com

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Agents of the Vault – Part 21

Part 21 of The Agents of the Vault is here!  After the initial firefight, Jane regroups and plots her next move.

If you want to subscribe to the Grantcast, you can do so with iTunes, or by using this feed in your favorite podcatcher.  Enjoy!  And let me know what you think of the story in the comments here, as we go along.

Also, if you prefer a PDF version of this part to read, CLICK HERE for that.

Finally, if you’d like to support my projects, visit www.patreon.com/saturdaymorningmedia

Agents of the Vault
Part 21
By Grant Baciocco

Brenner had made his move towards the buildings when the shooting had begun.  He had seen Morgan, who was behind the hotel building, fall dead when the shooting had started and rushed to help Jane whom he found taking shelter behind the general store.  Jane was horseless, having been thrown in the confusion of the gunfight with Grisom.  Brenner rode up, dismounted and crossed to her.

“You okay?” Brenner asked.

“Fine.” Jane replied.  “I got a shot into Grisom though.”

“Is he dead?”

“I wouldn’t bet money on it.” Jane replied.

“They got Morgan, he’s dead at the back of the hotel.” Brenner said.

Jane didn’t reply, her eyes focused on the hotel.

After a minute of silence, Brenner spoke, “Where are they now?”

“Holed up in the hotel.”

“What’s the plan?”

Jane was silent for a minute.  “We need to flush them out.  Let’s burn the hotel.”

“But isn’t the trunk in there?  And the prairie fire?”

“Yes.  Grissom won’t let either burn.  He’ll get them both out of the hotel. We’ll just hope to snag the prairie fire as it tries to escape the building.  But I’m tired of waiting, this ends now.”  Jane began rooting in her bag for a box of matches.  “I hope we’ll get both, but at this point I’ll settle for just the trunk and Grisom dead.  We have the other prairie fire, perhaps we can use it to lure the other one out.”

Jane grabbed one of the dried out tumbleweeds that had collected against the side of the general store and struck a match.  A small flame ignited and she pressed the matchstick against the tumbleweed which caught quickly and began to burn.  “Cover me,” she told Brenner and began to move from behind the hotel to the street.  Brenner followed closely behind.  He peered around the corner of the store and aimed his revolver up at the windows on the second floor of the hotel.  There was no movement.

Jane sprinted across the street, leaping over Leland’s dead body.   The tumbleweed in her hands almost completely engulfed in flames.  She tossed the burning bush in through the front door of the hotel and ran back across the street to where Brenner was watching for any movement.

“You think the building will catch?” Brenner asked when she had returned.

“That building is drier than the tumbleweed.  It’ll catch.”  She unholstered her pistols and cocked them both.  “Cross back around to the other side of the general store so you have a view of the front and far side of the hotel.  Just in case they come leaping out the window.”

Brenner nodded and moved out behind the building.  Jane watched the door with her eyes squinted.  Soon enough, thick, black smoke began to roll out the door an up into the sky.

©2015 Grant Baciocco/Saturday Morning Media – www.SaturdayMorningMedia.com

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Agents of the Vault – Part 19

Part 19 of The Agents of the Vault is here!  The showdown in Trinity begins!

If you want to subscribe to the Grantcast, you can do so with iTunes, or by using this feed in your favorite podcatcher.  Enjoy!  And let me know what you think of the story in the comments here, as we go along.

Also, if you prefer a PDF version of this part to read, CLICK HERE for that.

Finally, if you’d like to support my projects, visit www.patreon.com/saturdaymorningmedia

Agents of the Vault
Part 19
By Grant Baciocco

As Jane neared Trinity, she could see Grisom standing in the middle of the thoroughfare.  She slowed up her horse.  Brenner and the other Pinkertons rode up behind her.  Their horses breathed heavy underneath them, tired from racing across the prairie.  Gilmore was still wrestling with Pahaat, who thrashed harder now that they had slowed their pace.

“Ma’am.” Gilmore said, struggling to keep the wriggling prairie fire in his hands.  “I’m having trouble holding onto this varmint.”

Jane spun on her horse to face Gilmore, whipping out her gun and aiming it directly at his head.  “Do you want to die Gilmore?”

“No.  I don’t want—“ he stammered.

“Then you hang onto the prairie fire.” She hissed.  “If he touches the ground he will burrow and we will lose him.  If we loose him, you’re dead.  Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.  It’s just—“

Jane fired a bullet that, purposefully knocked Gilmore’s hat clean off his head.  Pahaat stopped struggling at the sound of the shot.  Jane holstered her gun.

“Listen.” She said to the three men, “Grisom’s going to meet me in the street.  That’s plain to see.  I assume the other two men are up in the taller building there.  That’s where the trunk is and that’s where the other prairie fire is.  I’ll ride direct towards Grisom.  Brenner and Connors, you ride to the left of the buildings, Conners stop halfway, Brenner, go the full way around so you are behind Grisom.  Gilmore, you stay here.  Keep that prairie fire quiet.  If things get rough, you ride in from here.  No one shoots unless I signal.  Understood?”

The three men nodded and without a further word, began moving into the positions that Jane had ordered.

In the center of town, Grisom saw the Pinkertons split up.  “They’re circling the town,” Grisom said loud enough for Leland and Charlie to hear.  “Keep your eyes open behind the hotel. And down this way.” Grisom said, pointing away from the hotel.  The whole time, he kept his eyes on Jane out on the prairie.

Jane lowered the brim of her het and began riding directly towards where Grisom stood in the middle of the five buildings.  Slowly, she moved her right hand towards her hip as the horse loped forward, feeling the weight of her pistol in her hand.  Reassuring herself it was there, she slowly moved he hand back to the reigns.  The sun was hanging low to the west.  She figured they probably had about thirty minutes of pure daylight left before it began to set.  “That’ll be long enough.” She thought to herself.  “We get the trunk, the prairie fire and then ride south, leaving Grisom and the kid dead in this deserted town.”

She slowed the horse as she came within range of Grisom.  She trusted that Brenner and the Conners were in their spots around the buildings.  When she got close enough she glanced up to the top of the two story building.  She didn’t see movement in the window, but she knew that one of the others had to be up there.  She couldn’t tell where the third was.  She refocused on Grisom.

Grisom stood, motionless in between the buildings, staring directly at Jane as she rode up.  She pulled the reigns on her horse and it stopped about 15 feet from where Grisom stood.

“Grisom.” Jane said.

“Jane.” Grisom replied, respectfully tipping the brim of his hat towards her.

She smirked.  “It doesn’t have to end like this Grisom.” Jane said.  “You could just give me what I want and we could be gone.  Leave you and the kid and whoever else is with you alive.”

“We both know that won’t happen, Jane.“  Grisom said.  “You want the trunk, you want Doris and, most of all, you want me dead.  I can’t let any of those three things happen.  So there’s no way this doesn’t end in bloodshed.”

“What can I say Grisom?.” Jane said, smiling.  “When you’re right, you are right.  But at the very least, we could leave the kid alive.”

Grisom looked up at her.  “You and I both know you wouldn’t let that happen.”

Jane smiled wider.  “Dammit Grisom, again, when you are right, you are right.”

Grisom flinched when suddenly he felt the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head and he heard the pistol’s hammer click back.  He’d been so focused on Jane, he hadn’t heard the footsteps slowly walking up behind him.  He silently cussed himself out.

“Evening Ma’am.” A voice said behind him.  It was Leland.  “I have been held prisoner by this man here for several days days now.  I want him gotten rid of just as much as you.  I’d be quite obliged to join your team and help you get what you want.  The trunk, that stupid creature upstairs and Grisom here.”

“What do you get out of it?” Jane asked, intrigued by this new wrinkle.

“There’s a trunk on that there cart,” Leland said, indicating with his head.  “I’d be mighty happy if I could get up on that cart and ride off into the sunset.  After you get what you want, of course.”

“Of course.” Jane replied.  “It’s an interesting offer, Mr.—?”

“Leland.” He smiled.  “Just call me Leland.

Up in the second floor of the hotel, Charlie’s pistol was moving back and forth between Jane and Leland now.  Leland had ruined things and Charlie felt a little unsure what to do next.

Grisom wasn’t so worried.  “Charlie!” Grisom yelled interrupting the banter between Jane and Leland, “You keep trained on Jane.  Don’t worry about Leland.”

Grisom heard Leland shuffle behind him, “Don’t worry about me?  Don’t worry about me?  Are you plum crazy Grisom? I’m the guy with a gun against your head.”  With those words, Leland shoved the gun further into the back of Grison’s skull, causing Grisom to take a step forward.  “You feel that Grisom?  You feel that cold steel driving into the base of your skull?”  Grisom was calm as could be.

“Your gun ain’t loaded Leland.” Grisom said quietly.  “You’re a criminal.  You think I’d give you a loaded gun?  I knew you’d turn on us the first moment you could.  Thank you for not disappointing me.”

Leland held the gun steady.  “You’re bluffing.  I checked the cylinder.  It’s got six shots.”

“They’re empty shell casings.” Grisom said.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Pull the trigger and we’ll all find out.” Grisom said quietly.

Leland’s hand began shaking on the trigger.  Grisom could feel it through the barrel.

Bang!  A shot rang out.  There was silence.  Grisom felt the barrel of the gun leave the base of his skull and he heard Leland’s body hitting the ground.  Grisom looked straight ahead to see Jane’s pistol in her hand, smoking.

“I was growing tired of the drama.” Jane said.  Her gun now trained on Grisom.  “Call the boy out here and tell him to bring the prairie fire.  Tell my men where they can retrieve the trunk and we will make this quick and painless.”

“You can’t have the trunk.” Grisom said.  “And you can’t have he prairie fire.”

“You think I’m kidding about this Grisom?” Jane said, the annoyance dripping through her voice.  “I thought you’d know by now that I mean what I say.

Meanwhile, up in the hotel room, Charlie could barely hear what Jane and Grisom were saying.  He strained to hear them and not jut because they were far away, but also because Doris was making a whistling sound.  A sound that Charlie hadn’t heard before.

“Doris,” Charlie pleaded, “I’m trying to hear Grisom.  Would you be quiet?”

But Doris could not be calmed down.  She continued to whistle and scramble back and forth along the back wall of the room.  Charlie turned to see her climb up the wall into the window frame that looked out the back of the hotel.

“Doris!” Charlie said tersely, “Get out of the window!  Your liable to be seen!”

Doris ignored Charlie’s warning and he watched in panic as she disappeared out the window.  Looking back down to Grisom and Jane, he saw they were still locked in their war of words.  He quickly crossed to the window Doris had just climbed out of.  He looked down and saw Doris hit the ground and immediately start burrowing, disappearing completely.  He had just enough time to wonder where she was off to when a bullet whizzed past his head.  As he ducked back into the room, he caught view of one of Jane’s Pinkertons who had been guarding the backside of the hotel.  Charlie scrambled back across the floor to the window that faced main street.  That’s when he realized that there was now gunfire from out in the street.

Peering above the window ledge, he saw Grisom running toward the hotel in a zig zag fashion as Jane fired her pistol behind him.  Grisom wildly fired shots behind him in Jane’s direction, making her duck, but his aim was wild as he ran for cover.

Thinking that, with Leland dead, they were grossly outnumbered.  Charlie dashed back over to the window overlooking the back of the hotel and saw the Pinkerton that was there, slowly approaching the hotel with his rifle at the ready.  Charlie quickly took aim and shot the Pinkerton dead.

Below him, he heard Grisom slam closed the flimsy door of the hotel and begin to mount the stairs.

Gilmore, still on his horse, still firmly holding the Prairie Fire in his hands, heard the gunfire exchanges and looked nervously toward Trinity.  It was then he realized that the Prairie Fire in his hands had gone completely still.  For the first time in the day since they had captured it, it wasn’t struggling and it wasn’t whistling.  If it weren’t for the feeling of it’s tiny ribs rising and falling against his hands, Gilmore would have thought the creature had died.

“What’s going on little fella?” Gilmore asked quietly, giving the creature a gentle shake.  Pahaat didn’t move, only cocking his, burlap bag covered head to the side, listening.

Suddenly, Gilmore’s horse let out a wild shriek, reared up and then, as if the horses legs just simply refused to stop working, crashed to the ground.  Pahaat tumbled out of Gilmore’s hands.  The Pinkerton desperately reached to secure the creature, but his inability to do so, along with the searing pain now shooting up his legs made him realize that the horse had his leg pinned under it’s weight.

Frantic at incurring Jane’s wrath for losing the prairie fire, Gilmore looked around to try and discover the cause of the horse’s  ailment.  Scrambling up the horse’s stomach came the fuzzy ears of Doris who had a mischievous smile on her face.

©2015 Grant Baciocco/Saturday Morning Media – www.SaturdayMorningMedia.com

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