Behind Crow stood Evan. 6 feet tall and weighing a hundred a fifty pounds most of it muscle. Behind Evan was the car. Evan picked up a sledge and swung it through the side window. The glass smashed with a loud pop. Crow pointed to the horizon where a gathering dust cloud announced the return of the Cats.
‘Hurry!’ said Crow.
The others took petrol from the trunk of the parked sedan and poured it around the base of the wooden house and porch. It burned. Then petrol was thrown into back of the car and that was torched too. The approaching car has slowed to a halt about a hundred meters away. And the five men at the burning house were now all staring at the stationary automobile. The sun beats down sending up a glare from the windshield of the motionless car.
There was a loud crack and one of the five fell down half his head gone. Then the one next to him fell without a sound. The remaining three threw themselves to the ground and crawled behind their parked sedan. There they hid their breathing the only sound until another beating rhythm drew nearer and then they saw it approaching a silver bullet in the sky. One with whirring rotors.
Crow reached out behind him and drew his machete. 2ft of dangerous steel. he carved a cut into his chest and began beating his bleeding chest shouting something in Iroquois. The rocket flew from the helicopter and landed just in front of Crow blowing up him and the car and the two hiding behind it.
The stationary car did a three point turn and drove away back from where it came.
The burning house and car and bodies were all that remained of the Iroquois Tribe. Their battle with the government to reclaim their burial grounds convoluted and the developers millions had won out in court. The last-ditch attempt to regain control of them before the developers bulldozers moved in had been risky but desperate. And it had failed. All was lost.
Then a pair of eyes appeared just above ground level looking this way and that independently of each other. It was Crows iguana companion and spirit guide. It scurried into a clearing where there was nothing but the burning sun high in the sky.
A fly landed on the ground and the iguanas sticky tongue flew out and grabbed its prey. The sun blazed in the sky and in the heat haze the moisture in the air was thinning. The Eagle came from a distant mountaintop home of the holy men of the Iroquois in legend. The holy bird of the Iroquois swooped down and clutched the iguana with its two hunting feet before taking off again soaring upwards into the thermals and then back to the holy mountaintop where legend has it that the Iroquois ancestors were born out of the spirit of an eagle and the souls of the dead captured in a living spirit guide.Absolutely. The Iroquois could begin again.
As the sun set on that day and the fires burned out. As the scavengers moved into feast.The Eagle of the Iroquois sat in its nest and cried hauntingly into the night sky for those souls lost in battle. A battle that would soon begin again.
This work of fiction bears no relation to any events real or imagined. Any resemblance to true events is pure coincidence.