Chapter 19: Chapter 18

<Cough!>

 

I open my eye.  Someone splashed me with water.  I can taste the metallic flavor from it sitting in a rusted bucket all day.  “What? Where am I?”  I try to get a sense of what is going on.  I’m on the floor.  I am sitting in Milagros place.

 

“Agh!” I scream at the sudden pain as a boot presses into my shoulder.  

 

“Agh!”  A stream of tears flow from my eye as a knife pierces my thigh.  I’ve received stab wounds before.  You don’t get used to the feeling,

 

“Ugh!”  One of my ribs cracks.  Another punch to the chest makes sure it’s broken.

 

I look down at the feet of at least a dozen men.  Each starts to take a turn at me.  I loose consciousness only to be awaken with another splash of the cold water from the rusty pail.

“Ay! Perhaps you want to lose your other eye?”  A soldier threatens me with his blade.  I can only see a distorted image as tears gloss over my eye from the pain.

“Shoot him already!”  Another soldier yells from somewhere beyond my peripheral vision.

 

I would collapse if I could but my hands are tied to the post above me.  I feel all my energy draining out from my wounds.  This is not the way I want to die.  But at least Milagros has a chance of escaping and living a better life.  Hopefully she finds her way home and some help along the way.  I brace myself for the final blow.

 

“Agh!”  The soldier standing before me loses his grip on his rifle.  It falls to the ground.  The other men attempt to pull out their rapiers as a lone figure drops between me and them.  The mysterious figure disarms the men and pummels them each at least twice before running to my side.

 

The figure approaches my ear.  “Milagros sent me,” they say.

 

“Who are you?”  My voice is hoarse, dry and just above an audible whisper.  I muster enough energy to speak but I have a hard time blinking away the blood out of my eye.  A gash on my forehead is not allowing me to see clearly with the blood oozing down onto my brow.

 

“I’m going to cut your ropes and I want you to run the best you can.”

 

I fall flat onto my face as soon as I am released from the restraints.

 

“Maybe it wasn't a good idea? How about this.”  The figure tries to rectify their error.  I sense a slight hint of humor behind the voice.  I’m pushed behind the wooden post and shielded from the pelting of musket balls.  I hear the wood shattering but I can also recognize that rendering of flesh.  My hero’s own body is being hit by the soldiers at an alarming rate as if shielding me from harm.

“Did they finally, ugh, stop?”  They question me.  They should be dead but they are still talking.

 

“What are you doing getting up? Stay down!”  I shout over the rifle fire.

 

“I’m all right.  I haven’t been hit like that in ages.  It doesn't exactly tickle but, ugh, I'll be fine in a few moments.”

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What on earth…?

 

“It looks like I'll have to take you the rest of the way myself.”

 

The figure takes up a pair of abandoned flintlock pistols. from the ground.  Most likely they were dropped by a soldier earlier in the skirmish .

 

“Those won't be any good to you without any ammunition.”  Even in the pain, I try to offer advice.

 

“True.”  

 

At least they agreed with me.  The figure stood up and held both pistols aloft in two directions.

“But I have plenty of my own ammunition.”  They gloat as a floating glowing circle, not unlike an Aztec sun stone, appeared just beyond the barrels of both pistols. 

“Let’s see how they like this…”. The figure pulled on the levers of both pistols, firing projectile after projectile.  It was a maelstrom of firepower.  Magical and awe-inducing is the only way I can describe it.

 

“Now that they are dazed let's fly.”  The figure used an amazing feat of strength to grab me and put me onto their back.

The figure leapt towards the exit.  Coughing and commotion came from the balcony overhead. I noticed the moon had already risen in the sky as my rescuer ran toward the exit.

 

“You will be needing a healer.  Ride the horse back to your home.”

 

My rescuer was a woman by the sound of their voice.  She hid her face behind a mask, only allowing her wild eyes to be visible.  She helped me up onto the horse and gave it a good slap in the rear.

“Go!” She commanded.

 

“Wait! What about you?”  I try to shout as loud as I can as I gallop away.

 

“I’ll be all right.”

 

“I could almost hear the grin in her voice.”  I saw men on horse back gallop towards the highway bandit.  She waved at me very playfully before running into the overgrowth.  She sped away quickly, jumping over obstacles like a fox or coyote.  I think she ran on all fours.  Her pursers, even on horseback, had no chance of catching up to her.  She was gone into the darkness, leaving me to make the quick trek home alone.

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