Eagle People
by WR Benton
ISBN 978-119398126-2-9
Kindle Edition
© Copyright 2014 W.R. Benton
Ebook Production by Loose Cannon Enterprises
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author and/or the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Author Photos © Copyright 2012, Melanie D. Calvert
© Contents Copyright 2014 by W.R. Benton
© Cover layout & design Copyright 2014 by www.dancingfoxpublishing.com
Cover Photo by Shutterstock.com used with permission
Edited by: Bobbie La Cour and Daniel Williams
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Books by W.R. Benton
Eagle People, Book 1
War Drums, Sequel to “War Paint”
Hired Gun
The Fall of America, Book 2, Fatal Encounters
The Youngest Mountain Man (Young Adult Western)
Hell Comes to Dixie
Adrift (Young Adult Fiction - Survival)
The Fall of America: Book 1, Premonition of Death
Nate Grisham, Black Mountain Man (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Nate Grisham, Black Mountain Man, in Renegade Trapper (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Red Runs the Plain
Fur Seekers (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Jake Masters: Bounty Hunter Also in an Audio Edition
Missouri in Flames, I Rode with Jesse James
War Paint Also in an Audio Edition
Bubba's Dawg Might be a Redneck (Southern Humor)
Silently Beats the Drum
James McKay, U. S. Army Scout
Alive and Alone (Young Adult Fiction – Survival) Also in an Audio Edition
Simple Survival, A Family Outdoors Guide
Impending Disasters
Dedication
To Juanita Duryea, Dee Ayala, Lisa Alama, Sonny Garrett, Gina Miles, Lynn Marie Gilleran Eisen, Rebecca Higgins Meisner, and Rennae Hanson, friends on Facebook.
A special dedication to William Robert Patton (WR Patton) who taught me how to live as a man. Not a day goes by I don't miss you, Grandpa.
From the Author
The year is 2414 and America has changed, as has the whole world, but little for the good. Due to the collapse of America's economy and then government, our nation reverted back thousands of years in lifestyle, standard of living; even medical care is no longer available at any price. Our military, police, and other emergency first responders have been out of jobs for almost four hundred years. The only laws that exist are what a man or woman can enforce through brute strength and the weak perished centuries ago, so only the strongest survive. Computers, cars, electricity, gas, guns, ammo, and other luxury items are no longer available—for any price. Not even the very old remember a different America and, since there are no longer any schools or colleges, it's up to each tribe to teach their young. As a result, some grow up completely illiterate, while others may speak foreign languages.
Soon after our government first fell apart, folks gathered in small groups for survival and most moved to the countryside, where survival was much easier than in the city. In cities, suddenly without any law enforcement, killings, rapes, and kidnappings became the norm and not the exception. Small groups, or tribes, were exterminated by larger groups and then, over time, whole towns and cities were taken over by one powerful tribe. The weeding out of competing tribes was bloody work, because it happened long ago, when most Americans still had guns and ammo. While hundreds of thousands die violently, millions starve to death or die from the lack of the simplest medical care. Drug stores are long closed, so those on medication do without—or die.
Toward the beginning of the end, liberals raised so much hell and contributed so much money toward the start of the collapse, hoping to prevent it, that the Federal Government actually banned guns and ammo from private ownership, which brought deadly battles with police. Most Americans were determined to keep their guns and more than one died, gun in hand, empty brass on the floor, with the Second Amendment written in blood on a nearby wall. Our Bill of Rights were suddenly useless and not enforced. The Constitution was pushed aside and ignored, as the President established martial law, due to expected and anticipated civil resistance to mandatory gun control. Then, after two months under martial law, the President appeared on television and declared himself dictator—for life. It was then that things really turned bloody. Guns that had been expertly hidden previously, were suddenly brought out in the open, and for the second time in our nation's history, we were involved in a bloody Civil War.
Eight years later, the freedom fighters won the war, for what good it did, and the President was shot, along with his entire administration. But with his death arose a new problem; there was no centralized power to establish command or control. Over the next one hundred years, men and women attempted to seize control, but each was violently removed. Finally, after all the attempts stumbled and were removed, the desire to lead our nation completely stopped. Now America was a huge mass of land, with numerous small and large warring tribes, each claiming their own land, resources, and government.
This is where my story starts.
WR Benton
Jackson, Mississippi
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
About the Author
Chapter 1
THE BITE OF AMON'S AX was deep, striking the woman at the base of her neck, and if he hadn't hit her with a downward angle, the blade would have decapitated her. As it was, the hand sharpened bronze cut through her collar bone and blood flew in all directions. She gave a piercing scream and her eyes grew huge in pain and fear. A long spear fell from her hands and she instantly reached for her injury, as if any effort on her part could stop the bleeding. He let her fall and shifted his attention to the man behind her.
He was a big man, tall, but not fat and looked to be in good physical condition, which worried Amon. He'd been living on wild game, wild cows, dogs, and an occasional cat, so he wasn't in the best shape in the world, but he ate what his tribe could provide. Just as the man stabbed at him with the metal tip of his spear, an arrow took the stranger in the throat and he fell, blood spewing in all directions. He began to choke and claw at the ground, but Amon ignored him; he was dead meat, except his mind didn't realize it yet.
The woman he'd struck with his ax was having trouble breathing and her body quivered as she looked at him with pleading eyes. Eyes that, under different circumstances, he might have even found appealing. As it was, her and the man who'd attempted to kill him would soon be dead.
Mongoose walked from the tree line, gave Amon a smile, and then moved to the woman. She pulled her knife as she walked and he saw the sh
arp blade flash once in the bright sunlight. The woman with the ax injury gave a loud gargling sound and began to choke on her own blood. In less than three minutes she'd be dead, bled out like a hog at a butchering. Later, he would notice her open, but unseeing, eyes filled with fear and pain.
“Thomas, gather their gear.” Mongoose ordered as she stood on the trail and scanned the countryside.
A thin, but tall black man walked from the trees to the dead and started removing anything of value. He removed anything that could be used by them in the field or in barter with others. Amon counted an even dozen dead and there were no wounded, but few captives were ever taken. Men taken captive were usually tortured to death, or if a woman or young child was discovered, they were more often than not adopted into the tribe.
“Ralph!” Mongoose yelled, “Return for our horses.”
“I'll be right back.” a voice called from the protective cover of the oak and hickory trees.
Thomas returned a few minutes later and said, “I found a few spears, seven bows with an equal number of quivers, and one rusty old pistol. I'm not sure what the man had the gun for, because he only had one bullet, and it looked like hell. It was green from oxidation and badly corroded.”
Amon asked, “Which was corroded, the gun or bullet?”
“Both. It looked like an old .45 Colt, with the rotating cylinder, but the hammer was rusted shut.”
“Any barter?”
The black man grinned and said, “A small pouch on one of them with gold teeth, two diamonds, and about a half dozen jewels of lesser value.”
Amon said, “They've been in graves if they have gold teeth. Hell, there ain't a practicing dentist alive today, or so I think. I ain't never seen one, but my great great granddaddy remembered a few of 'em.”
Thomas shrugged and said, “I found about two dozen gold teeth and most are molars, likely from graves. I did find a partial with gold, but I'll have to break it down and separate the gold from the other metals and porcelain. When we return to the village, I'll melt the gold and make small ingots to trade with and they're valuable.”
At that point, Ralph returned and said, “Our horses are in the woods and ready when you are.”
“Let's move, people, I don't like stayin' around an ambush site.” Mongoose ordered, and then moved toward the trees.
They mounted and rode at a fast walk to the south, where Amon knew at some point they'd swing west and then north again. They never rode from an ambush straight back to the village, for safety reasons. There was no need to give their enemies a clear path to their home.
As they rode, Amon gave thought to the way they now lived. His tribe had once, by accident, captured a library after some bitter fighting during the Civil War and they'd brought every book they could carry out with them. They'd taken the books as a source of entertainment and not so much as for learning. However, they now had a small library in the village and each child attended school in the library, from the age of six until sixteen. Their education was nothing fancy, but they learned to read, write, do basic math, and a little of the arts. Since books were no longer published they were desired because they were rare, thus valuable. He'd often spent hours looking through a set of encyclopedias, seeing how America and the rest of the world once lived.
He'd grown up in the tribe and had no knowledge of a different lifestyle. He was a warrior, and his village was organized along the lines of a Native American village in the early 1800's, except for a few minor differences. Their first leader was named William Burrows; he was a great thinker and had once taught history at a university as a professor of history. After people began to split into small groups, he'd organized his group along the lines of Sioux Indians. He'd always felt the Sioux were a well coordinated bunch, with a shaman, war chief, peace chief, council and even a police force. He'd extended it some, since the Sioux didn't have a written language in the early 1800's, and included a teacher and a man dedicated only to God. Additionally, this spiritual leader was much different than his shaman. This man of the spirit world was called preacher and he led the tribe only in religion.
In the old days of the Sioux, a shaman was a spiritual leader, doctor, and interpreter of dreams and visions. A real Sioux shaman could cast spells, remove spells, make it rain, call the buffalo near for hunters, tell the future, and much more. However, in the village now, the shaman was a doctor primarily, who also used contact with the spirit world to assist him in healing. Dreams and visions rarely needed clarification these days, but the shaman could also do that if requested.
“What are you thinking about?” Mongoose asked in sign language as she rode beside him. Burrows had insisted that all adults and children learn to use real Indian sign language. He felt few, if any, others would know the language, and it would allow complete communications without a spoken word. The warriors found it helpful to be able to communicate and never speak a word in the field, unless there was no choice.
“I was thinking how our People came to be a feared tribe.”
“We are a strong tribe and our warriors, both girls and boys, start training very young. We protect our lands, take what we want from the weak, and our enemies fear us. Does not just the mention of our name, Eagle People, send a shudder through our enemies?”
“Yes, but I was thinking of how the People came to be. How Professor Burrows saved our ancestors and gave our tribe meaning. Look at the many things we have and can do that others cannot, all because of the man.”
“Enough talk on the trail. It is not smart to sign when we should be scanning the woods around us.”
“I understand.” Amon signed and then grinned. Mongoose was Sally's nick name, but it fit her perfectly. She was one hell of a fighter and deadly with a bow. Unlike the Sioux, where men were usually the only warriors, the Eagle People used both genders. At first, they'd had so few folks that everyone had to fight, but now they were many more. We discovered the women are more vicious warriors than the men, he thought as he scanned the countryside. And, while they may not have our strength, they make up for it in cunning.
They were on land the Eagle People claimed as their own, but the land was rich and full of wild game. The plenteous farmland that had once fed the world wheat and corn, had overgrown and wind blown seeds were carried and dropped all over the land. Their lands were located in the western portion of the old state of Missouri and included much of eastern Kansas. In a days ride on their land, different types of land was seen; from trees and high cliffs to wide open plains. The People often said that God had placed them in an area that only a fool would starve to death.
“Stop, I see a man down.” Ralph said as he approached from the front, where he'd been riding point and looking for danger.
“Dead?” Mongoose asked.
“I didn't check him alone. I rode back for help.”
“Amon, go with him and keep your eyes open, because it may be a trick. The Wolf People are wily and I think they should change their names to Coyote People. A wolf is not nearly as ingenious as a coyote.”
“Let's go.” Amon said, and pulled his battle ax.
Moving forward, neither man saw anything out of place or any suggestion they were in danger. Amon usually felt when someone was watching him, and it was a finely tuned sense or warning system he'd developed. Most people had the same skill, but most ignored it, where he had not. Right now he felt safe.
About ten feet from the man, Ralph said, “You check him, while I cover you.” He pulled his bow and made an arrow ready.
Sliding gracefully from the back of his mount, Amon made his way to the downed man. When he was close, he could see a puddle of blood under the man's head and chest. He looked, but saw no exit wound. “Must have been a spear thrust, because I see no exit injury.” he said.
“He is dressed like one of our People, so roll him over and see if he yet lives.”
Holding his ax ready, Amon rolled the man over on his back and gave a gasp.
“Good God, it's Alex.” Ralph
said.
“He's got a hole in the middle of his chest, but there was no exit hole.” Amon squatted beside the man.
“What do you mean, a hole?”
“A round circle, and I have no idea what kind of weapon could make an injury like that. He is still breathing, but it's ragged and labored. We need to get him to the shaman or he'll die.”
“What is Alex doing out here?”
Amon shrugged and then said, “Get Mongoose and let her see this. While you get her, I'll do what I can to slow or stop his bleeding.”
Ralph pulled his horse around and was gone in a minute.
Amon was looking at Alex's face when the injured man's eyes opened and he said in a voice just above a whisper, “The Wolf . . . People attacked . . . village. Most dead . . . but we . . . scattered. Over . . . too fast. I am the—.” Suddenly, Alex began to shiver and jerk violently. He gave a loud sigh, there was a rattling from some place deep in his chest, and then his head fell back loosely—he was dead.
When Mongoose rode to the man, she asked, “Will he live?”
“No, he's dead. He did speak, and told me his village was attacked by The Wolf People, and many were killed. He said the attack happened quickly and they were overrun.” Amon replied.
The woman warrior dismounted, walked to the dead man, and said, “I see but a small hole in him. Is that what killed him?”
“I have no idea what caused his death. He may have experienced internal injuries or suffered a head injury we are not aware of, but I've never seen such a wound in my years as a warrior. It is a perfect circle.”
Mongoose squatted beside the dead Alex, pulled her knife and then opened the man's chest, by cutting into the bloody hole. Inside went her small hand and a few seconds later, she removed the object of her search—a bullet.
Holding the spent bullet in the palm of her crimson covered hand she said, “The Wolf People have guns, or have at least one gun. A gun was used to kill Alex. This is not good for us. If they have guns and we do not, we'll soon be gone as a People. They'll take our land and all we call our own. Hurry, we must reach our village and let the council of elders know of our finding. Ralph, tie Alex to a horse and bring his body with us, to show our elders.”
Eagle People Page 1
