The Shattered West: The Tale of Colt Marsh - Chapter Two

Chapter Two: A longer voyage

Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, May 4, 1869

By morning, Klaus was gone. How he’d disappeared without a sound to rouse any alarm was a mystery. The nun, Sister Sarah, said a prayer. The dandy, who only gave the name ‘Ace’, was especially quiet and would only respond with one word answers or shrugs to questions. Ace had gone to one end of the boat and begun playing Solitaire.

Colt called to the other boats and with a lot of effort they managed to lash the three boats together. There was a mix of survivors among the lot left; a few sailors, a Chinese family who huddled close together and avoided eye contact with anyone, an older couple, dressed in absolute refinement and insisted that the sailors see to their every need.

“I don’t give a hoot about your breakfast, Mr. Rockefeller, or how you probably have all the money in the world. Isn’t going to save us right now. What we need is a miracle!” one of the sailors shouted to the old man. The two had been talking as Colt had begun to lash the boats together.

“But according to my watch, which for the price I paid I know is still working, it is 7am. I was told we were guaranteed breakfast each day by 7am!” the old man protested. “When we get out of here, I’ll see this shipping company ruined for violating the terms I agreed to when I bought passage!” And understandably, the sailor punched him.

The sailor, a man named Francis, abruptly got up and crossed over into the boat Colt was in. “I know you, you’re the one who killed that… that… well, whatever that thing was. If we ever get out of here, I’m gonna buy you a drink!”

The old man, apparently unconscious, was being fanned by his wife as she shouted about such “crude behavior” and “savages”. Colt smiled at the Chinese family and spoke to them in perfect Chinese, assuring them everything would be okay. They were stunned to hear their language come from a white man - Colt had always been fair skinned - and thanked him for saving them as well.

Sister Sarah had scurried over to the older couple and was trying to help revive the old man and if looks could kill, Francis would be dead. “I don’t think she likes you very much,” Colt said with a grin. “And that’s not very Christian of her.” Francis just laughed.

The sky was turning oddly dark, oddly fast. “You’ve been at sea before, ever see a storm come up this quick?” Colt asked Francis.

“Never. Ten years at sea and never like this.”

In minutes, the sky for miles was dark. The waves were getting choppier by the second. Colt began to look for more rope and make sure the oars were tucked in when he spotted Ace, still playing Solitaire like he was sitting in some saloon. Were the cards glowing? No. His eyes were playing tricks on him. Ace slapped down a card, ending a run, and immediately lightning struck nearby, shattering a bit of debris in the water nearby. Shards shot everywhere, the Chinese kids screamed, as did Mrs. Rockefeller, but Ace kept playing.

“Ace! Help me with the ropes! I need a strong hand to tie these boats tighter together!” Colt called to him.

Ace turned and glared at Colt, his eyes as black as night. Eyes deeper than the ocean, colder than a raging blizzard. Colt had seen eyes like that before. He charged at Ace, seeing the death of his mother in those cold, dark eyes once again. Ace just laughed and jumped, up, back and off the boat. Instead of dropping into the sea, he floated above it.

“You cheated Death and killed his messenger,” Ace said, a tone otherworldly in his voice. “I'm here to balance the scales.” He was still holding the cards in his hands, but now they glowed with an almost electrically blue hue. He drew five cards, looked at them and grinned, then cast them into the sky. They shot upward at amazing speed and in the clouds where they struck, bolts of lightning rained back down on them.

Minor bolts crackled here and there. A few struck debris floating nearby and before anyone could react, a large one struck the boat with Sister Sarah and the Rockefellers in it. The crackle was deafening, the shock immense. Colt’s ears rang like a chorus of whining church bells. His sight blinded from the brilliant light of the strike.

He didn’t even realize he’d been blown out into the water until the cold chill of it struck him. Blind and deaf he felt darkness overtaking him as he sank deeper into the sea. His senses betraying him, he had a feeling of a void, a void of life and existence straight above him. And his mind wandered…

The Buffalo Hunt, Spring 1849

Colt had been excluded again. He was ten now and all the other boys would accompany the men on the first buffalo hunt after the spring thaw. Had his grandfather still been there, he may have been able to convince the chief to let him go along, but he’d died in the winter. Now it was just his mother and him. Life was harder now with grandfather gone. He would prove he could provide, that he could be the man his father had wanted him to be. The father he was beginning to forget.

The men and boys had tracked the buffalo herd to a valley. The buffalo didn’t realize it was the ideal place for a trap. Colt found a place he was certain the herd would run right by as the young boys would drive the herd toward the hunters. He wondered why none of the hunters had taken the spot he’d found. It seemed perfect. Too perfect.

The herd came. It was like the very ground was crying, like a boulder rolling down an endless hill, like a peal of thunder that would never end. Then Colt realized why no one else had chosen this spot. Colt was in the direct path the herd would use as the escape path.

He ran. It was likely pointless but he ran anyway. Down into the gully looking for a refuge. He saw the river but the herd overtook him and cut him off. The hunters were raining down arrows from above causing the herd to run toward the walls of the gully and trap them further. Trap them it would, but crush Colt in the process.

He was sure death was imminent, so knelt at the wall and prayed. Prayed to the Spirit Father. His hands clasped the eagle feather on the necklace he wore - a gift from his mother. At once, he began singing the Song of the Eagle, the dance his mother performed at special events. Whirling and turning his arms spread like the eagle itself. And at the end of the song, the Great Eagle leaps from the earth into the sun to escape the bitter cold of night. Colt closed his eyes, jumped and thrust his arms to his sides….

He had dreamed death would feel this way - flying high as his spirit left his body and flew to the heavens. And here he was, he could feel it, his spirit soaring above the earth, leaving this realm behind. It wasn’t the euphoria of heaven that roused him, but the smack of the ground. He opened his eyes and was on his face in the grass. Face down in the grass on the ledge above gully, forty feet straight up the rock face he’d been trapped at.

Back in the cold, dark water…

Colt’s hand found the necklace which he still wore everyday. His mind recalled the song, the way his mother looked, whirling and turning. The clapping and the drum beats. He’d swore it looked like she was flying… flying…

With one push, he mimicked the end of the song, thrusting his hands to his sides and was propelled upward at incredible speed. Up and out of the water and into the air he breathed deep. And there was Ace, still hovering in the air, cackling with delight as lightning bolts rained down around him. Ace couldn’t help but notice Colt shooting out of the water.

Colt tucked himself into a ball, hard and fast he spun rotating around. His heel whipped around and caught Ace at the spot where the neck meets the shoulder. Ace went limp and crashed to the water. Colt spread out his arms, leveled out, and seemed to glide like he had wings back to the boat. The storm stopped as Ace sank below the waves.

Breathing deep, in shock, Colt turned. His boat was empty, Francis nowhere to be seen. The third boat was no more and there was no sight of Sister Sarah or the Rockefellers. Huddled and crying, the Chinese family looked up and met eyes with Colt. The father mumbled, “Nǐ shì shén háishì èmó?” (Are you a god or demon?)

“Wǒ bù zhīdào wǒ shì shénmeliǎo,”(I don’t know what I am anymore) Colt replied. And he sat down and sank into a deep, deep slumber.