Jesse fidgeted a worn, wooden coin across his knuckles. Then he checked on the rabbit again. Then he paced around the cave a couple more times. "Takin' a walk, Red Boy," he muttered, and he headed out of the cave. The kid replied something in Indian-babble that sounded pleasant-like.
Outside, it was as dark as the bottom of a well. Thunderclouds blocked out the sky, so he stepped oh-so-carefully across the rocky ground. If he tripped and busted his head out there, it'd be hours before anybody found him.
And the good lord knew, Jesse didn't want to be found.
He found the spot, cleared some brambles, and reached down into a crevice in the ground. He felt the cool bars of gold there. He breathed a little bit easier. "Gonna be alright," he whispered, and he sighed.
Then he heard the scream.
peter rogers @ netbook | http://hujhax.livejournal.com
One of the rules I put in my writers' room was Don't Break Anything You Can't Fix -- which is to say, if you don't like an idea, I don't want to hear from you unless you can clearly articulate why you don't think it's any good and unless you have something to counter-pitch.
-- Javier Grillo-Marxuach