Ruled By Fear

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Authors: C. Cervi

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Ruled By Fear

Ruled By Fear

 

 

C. Cervi

1

 

Ruled By Fear

Copyright © 201
4 C. Cervi

All rights reserved.

ISBN:

ISBN-13:

 

1

 

Ruled By Fear

~Dedicated to ~

My friends, Susan and Tracy, who gave countless hours of input and encouragement to this project, and to all the people who never gave up on me.  The list is long . . .

 

 

1

 

Ruled By Fear

CONTENTS

 

 

 

 

1

Chapter One

Pg. 7

2

Chapter Two

Pg.
18

3

Chapter Three

Pg.
25

4

Chapter Four

Pg.
36

5

Chapter Five

Pg.
50

6

Chapter Six

Pg.
60

7

Chapter Seven

Pg.
70

8

Chapter Eight

Pg.
83

9

Chapter Nine

Pg.
100

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Pg.
111

Pg.
126

Pg.
138

Pg.
152

Pg.
162

Pg.
177

Pg.
190

Pg.
202

Pg.
214

Pg.
227

Pg.
241

Pg.
252

 

 

1

 

Ruled By Fear

 

 

 

C
 

hapter 1

With trembling hands, the aging man plucked a match from the box he’d been hoarding the past few weeks.  He stared at the small stick held between his fingers, and his panicked yet determined gaze seemed to beg the object to fulfill its purpose.  His eyes weren’t what they used to be, and his hands were shaking so badly that it took several attempts before he struck the match and got it to light.  Without wasting another moment, he held the flame to the side of the worn down structure.  Everything was riding on this—lives depended on what happened tonight.  He knew that once caught, it would be over for him, but that didn’t matter.   When he’d found the box of matches lying open in the tunnels, he’d known instantly what his plan would be, and he knew that plan included no way out for himself.  All of this was for his daughter.  He had to get her out.  She was coming of age, and he knew, from having observed the few other women in this place, that it was only a matter of time before she would be taken, and . . .   He refused to let his mind complete the thought—he simply wouldn’t let that happen.  Standing back, he watched as the flames grew and then, turning to his daughter, he gripped her shoulders.

“As soon as I give the word, you run, as fast as you can, and don’t look back.”

Her eyes met his with a mixture of fear and confusion.

    
“You’ll be with me, won’t you?”

    
“Of course I will,” he replied, “Now, quickly, hide yourself.”

    
He watched as the only precious thing left to him moved quietly across the moonlit yard and ducked down in the shadows near the house.  The building was blazing now and bringing his arm up to shield his face, he took a step back.

    
“Please forgive me,”
he pleaded silently as he looked toward his daughter, huddling against the side of the enormous building that had become their prison. 
“I didn’t want to lie to you, but I can’t save us both.”

    
The sound of feet thudding across the yard caused him to look up, and in the distance he could make out the shapes of his captors.  In the firelight, their forms danced and shifted—dark and angry.

    
Without another thought for himself, he stepped out of the shadows, directly in their line of sight.  To his right, he heard his daughter gasp, but then his concentration was once again pulled away from her.  They had seen him, and they were coming for him.  He put his hands behind him, motioning for her to run, watching out of the corner of his eye for her escape.  They had come prepared and already water was being splashed onto the building—the fire would be out in no time.  Several of them surrounded him and he dared to glance toward his daughter.  She stood; frozen in her place of hiding.

    
“Run,” he mouthed, but she shook her head, her eyes wide.

    
As his hands were roughly tied behind him and he was pushed to his knees in the dirt, his heart cried out.  Not for himself, but for his child that would now be left alone.

    
“Oh, Emily,” he whispered, just before a crashing blow dragged him into darkness.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

     Aaron Colbert groaned and slapped a pillow over his ears.  He was overly tired but, to his chagrin, his little brother Keith wasn’t.  He turned over, once again, trying in vain to find a comfortable position, but it seemed the bed he was currently in had been made for a much smaller person.

     Aaron chuckled to himself

Small.

    
It seemed everything about this town was small, from the scant population, to the one-room-boarding house, to the tiny cramped room he was now sharing with Keith.

    
He and his younger brother had been so relieved that afternoon when they’d ridden their horses over that last dusty hill and spotted the tightly-grouped outcropping of buildings.  They had been traveling for weeks and still had three to go, if they made good time, before getting back to the ranch.  They had spent the last few nights under the stars and, with it still being early spring; the weather was often bitterly cold.

    
The trip, thus far, had been quite an experience for sixteen-year-old Keith—seeing new places, meeting new girls and, on the side, even learning a little bit about buying and selling.  Aaron was a patient and exact teacher, most of the time, and in spite of himself, Keith had managed to learn enough to even handle a few transactions himself.  Under his older brother’s close supervision, of course.  Aaron had negotiated their coveted cattle sale for almost a week before he was satisfied with the price, and then had spent the next two days teaching Keith the details of writing and signing contracts.  He was excited to get back and let their father know about the deal and to round up the herd.  He wouldn’t be on the actual drive to deliver the cattle this year but, for the first time, Keith would and his exuberant younger brother had talked of little else during the trip.

    
When the two saddle-sore entrepreneurs had ridden into town, the isolated citizens had seemed welcoming enough—happy to see some new faces.

    
“A little too happy, if you ask me,” Keith said later that night. “Did you see the way that man, the one who called himself the mayor, looked at us?  Like, he was sizing us up or something.”

    
It seemed Keith had made up his mind to talk all night, and Aaron had long ago given up on trying to get any sleep.  He rolled over and, though his little brother couldn’t see his smirk in the dark, he could hear it in Aaron’s voice.

    
“And you’re worried we won’t measure up?” he questioned.

    
“Not a bit worried about that,” Keith replied without missing a beat, “just don’t like someone looking me over like I was a steer he was thinkin’ on buying.”

    
“Well, if you’re a steer, you’re the noisiest one I’ve ever heard,” Aaron said. “Now, why don’t you hush up and let me get some sleep?”

    
After several minutes with no answer, Aaron hoped he’d gotten his point across and, turning on his side, let his heavy eyelids close.

    
“And that woman, the one working behind the counter at the mercantile,” Keith started.  “I’m telling you, if she had smiled any wider, her face would have split in two.  Don’t you think?”

    
“I think, little brother,” Aaron said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and onto the floor, “that if you don’t stop talking and let me get some sleep, I’m going to split you in two!”

    
Aaron stood and took a few menacing steps toward his brother’s bed.  Keith immediately rolled over and commenced snoring.  After whacking him with a pillow, Aaron crawled back under the warm quilt, and within a few moments, his snores joined in with his brother’s.

 

     The next morning came too early and Aaron woke up wishing he’d decided to camp outdoors after all.  His six-foot frame hadn’t taken well to being to being unable to stretch out, and a few times during the night, he had managed to knock his head against the headboard.  He groaned loudly as he gently prodded his tender scalp and his bloodshot eyes shot daggers across the room at his blissfully sleeping brother.

    
“It’s time to get up, lazy bones,” he yelled in Keith’s direction.

    
Keith was dead to the world and it took Aaron a good five minutes to get him moving, finally having to resort to dumping a glass of water over his slumbering brother’s head.  Leaving Keith to his spluttering, Aaron shaved and had just finished slicking back his dark hair when Keith finally stumbled out of bed.  Aaron waited another ten minutes, while his younger brother preened, making sure his short, brown curls were lying just right.

    
“Keith, would you hurry up?” Aaron asked, shoving their night clothes into a worn satchel.  “At this rate we won’t be home until Christmas, and I’d like to get home before it snows over the pass.”

    
“Settle down, older brother, I’m ready,” Keith answered.  “You know, you might want to give the old snow a chance to melt before you start planning for new snow.”

    
Aaron replied by tossing the satchel at his brother, and the two made their way outside.

It was a brisk spring morning and Aaron tugged his coat a little tighter around the collar as he made his way to the
town’s one-stable livery.  He’d decided to pick up their horses before breakfast, figuring if the animals had been as cramped as he’d been, it would probably be a good idea to let them stretch their legs a bit before continuing homeward.

    
Keith nodded off the instant they sat down at the café table for breakfast.  Aaron ordered two house specials for them, along with a pot of extra strong coffee.  He chuckled as he looked across the table at his baby brother.

    
If I was to guess, you went out after I fell asleep last night.

    
He kicked Keith under the table, startling him awake.

    
“Oh, hey, Aaron,” Keith yawned noisily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  “Time to go already?”

    
“I thought we might eat first,” Aaron answered.

    
Keith looked across the table and gave a lop-sided grin.  “Sorry, I guess I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

    
“Care to tell me why that is?” Aaron asked.

    
“Not really,” Keith answered with a shrug.  “But I did want to tell you about a rumor I heard.”

    
Aaron didn’t respond except to raise a questioning eyebrow.

    
“I met this guy . . . last night and we started talking.  He told me there’s a shortcut through the mountains.  There’s a narrow canyon that cuts between them about four or five miles out of town.  It was funny though, after he told me about it, he advised we not take it.”

    
Keith stopped for a moment as their food arrived and, after tipping the waitress, there were a few moments of silence as the two dug into their meals.

    
“Did he explain why we shouldn’t take it?” Aaron asked, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

    
Keith started to chuckle and then lowered his voice.  “This fellow said the canyon is haunted.”

    
Aaron rolled his eyes.

    
“I’m serious.  This guy said no one that’s ever gone in there has come out again.  Well, except for an old man that staggered into town one night a few years back.  He claimed he’d been captured by ghosts when he tried to cut through the canyon and had been being held as their prisoner for years.”

    
“And the man telling you this story believed him?” Aaron interrupted.

    
“He said something awful had sure happened to the old guy.  He was nothin’ but skin and bones, and he had bruises and marks all over his body.  The worst, though, were his eyes.” Keith gulped down the last of his coffee and then leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper.  “He said the man’s eyes were permanently round with terror, like he’d seen the very inside of Hell itself.”

    
“Sounds like we’d better avoid that shortcut,” Aaron mocked.

    
“No way,” answered Keith.  “I told that man my college educated older brother and I didn’t believe in any old ghosts and would be happy to shave a few days off our trip.”

    
Aaron smiled and slowly sipped his coffee.

    
“Well, I think this college educated older brother of yours would like to get a look at this canyon before we consider crossing it.  There’s always some measure of truth behind every story and even if it wasn’t ghosts, it sounds like something pretty terrible did happen to that old man.”

 

     A few of the townspeople had gathered to wave goodbye as Aaron and Keith headed out.  Just as they reached the edge of town, a man called to Aaron from behind some old crates stacked against the side of a worn down barn.  Aaron turned and the man waved him over, then nervously shifted from foot to foot as he glanced around.  Aaron turned to Keith who shrugged, and they both rode over.

    
“I just wanted to warn you,” the man whispered as they drew near, “don’t go through the canyon, I . . .”

    
Suddenly, there was a loud snap from around the corner of the barn, followed by the sound of running feet.  The man trying to warn them went white and immediately turned to leave.

    
“Hey, wait a minute,” Aaron called.  “What was that you were saying about the canyon?”

    
“Never mind,” the man stuttered.  “You all go along now.  Have a nice trip”

    
He gave a weak smile and then quickly ran back to town.

    
“Keith,” Aaron said, turning to his younger brother, “I’m beginning to think maybe we should just go over the mountains after all.”

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