Date: Mon, 14 Jul 2008 09:07:52 -0400
From: J
Subject: trio  72--part A

SOLE'S LOST SCENE

En route back from the Apache camp toward the mixed camp, Sole was spotted.
Two other guards saw him leave. They saw the body he hid in the brush and
checked it. They started to follow him. They tracked past the other body
near the opening to the two giant stone rock hills. Hurrying by this dead
comrade, they caught up to the sight of the back of Sole. Sole hurried
through the brush, past the two giant rock cliffsides. He then moved past
sandy areas and started going faster and faster. He looked back a few times
but didn't see anything. Yet he felt something was wrong. The hair on the
back of his young blond neck rose.He looked up and saw a trio of vultures
overhead, circling. Probably wanting the dead guards he slew.  Or maybe
they were waiting for something else...someone else to die. Sole
swallowed. Why he was so nervous, he wasn't sure: certainly he can handle
the best of warriors even at the worst of times. He shrugged it off and
moved onward. He moved further down a long slope than he had to. He was
sure he heard running water. It made him want to go to the bathroom. This
also reminded him of how thirsty he had become in this heat.

The two men following Sole was large, tall, thick, and older. More
experienced. They didn't let Sole see them, yet they weren't about to lose
the trail. They were confident in their quest for their prey. With a keen
pair of eyes, the first one saw the trail Sole made. The other moved ahead,
confident enough to track by himself.  The two guards looked like twins but
weren't. They were built similarly. Later, Sole wondered if they were
brothers.

The two Apaches followed the trail to the river, which gushed past them. It
was more violent than usual. "Where'd he go?"

The other one pushed past his pal, nudging into his friend at the same time
to prove his superiority in a playful manner. "Tawk, you could not track
your grandfather in his grave."

Tawk grew angry, "I can. I tell you the trail grows cold up ahead."

His brother, Rega, moved to the river side further ahead. He found a place
where the river sort of sagged out and slowed down, a sort of small lagoon,
not large by any type of description. The river slowed down a great deal
here. "You are correct, brother. It does indeed."

Tawk came up to him and the pair went into the water, up to their
ankles. "But where, where has he gone?"



Rega nodded, "I don't know."  He stared at the water, which churned with
white froth from the former roughness. "Yet I see..."

Tawk squinted, "What do you see? I see not the bottom. I see nothing."

"I thought...no, it cannot be," Rega frowned, "We must have lost him..."

"Wait,20no, I think ye are the correct one."  Tawk moved in closer to an
object he thought he saw. It was yellow.

Rega followed him and bent closer. Tawk was closest though. Suddenly,
rising up from the water, drops of the water gurgling into his outtie belly
button, stood Sole, a knife in each hand. He was soaked and his teeth were
grit, his nose wrinkled in a snarl, "GGRRRRRRRRRRRR! AHHHHHHHH!"  He
plunged both knives into the bigger men...and just where do you think he
plunged them?

In their belly buttons. Which were large, oval shaped, and shallow. Tawk
bellowed and bent back but Sole kept the knife going in until he felt the
stomach was at his first two knuckles. His pointer finger and his middle
finger. Squawking, Rega folded, his upper half coming over the knife. Sole
made sure he finished them there and then. He drove the blades in and the
two men were done for. They moved their hands at the offending intruders on
their gut holes. It did no good. Sole stabbed them inward and didn't dare
let the knives out until he was sure they were done for. "You track well!
Too well!"  He twisted the knives and mangled the belly buttons beyond
recognition. Then he pulled out, putting his knives downward but then
jerking them up into the air in victory, and let the two giants of men fall
past his elbows and down into the river, making a huge pair of splashes.
The bodies would drift with the river---away from the enemy camp. Sole
nodded and was satisfied.