Sorry that I haven't updated for a long time, I've been busy researching self-publishing. Blog post on that topic coming soon.


He turned and ran down the hill letting his feet lead the way. Naomi saw him coming and came to meet him. ‘Where have you been?’

            ‘Talking to Gaia.’

            ‘Can you hear that?’

            ‘Yes. City people are coming.’

            His mother looked over his shoulder towards the noise; eyebrows knitting together. ‘What can they want from us?’

            Mike came towards them, a crossbow tied around his shoulder and arrows in his hand. ‘You have to stay inside, just to be safe.’

            ‘What does Sam say?’ Naomi asked.

            ‘He'll speak to us in a minute, he's getting the horses ready.’

            ‘Does he deem that necessary?’ her eyes widened, suddenly aware that this could be worse than she thought.

            ‘It’s only a precaution. We don’t want them thinking we’re weak.’

            The engine was getting louder as the villagers stood there helpless and waited. Sam sat on horseback looking down at his people and held his hands up to hush them.

            ‘My friends, as you can hear, we have visitors from the city coming to meet us. We have done nothing to provoke them. Women and children must stay inside; warriors and hunters will stay out here behind me.’ Sam announced.

            ‘Go inside now my people. No harm will come to us if we are understanding and patient.’ He smiled but there was no warmth behind it.

            Naomi grabbed Jason by the hand and pushed him before her into their cottage. Just as Jason passed the threshold, the car drove over the nearest hill. They were laughing, swerving over the yellow flowers in a snaky line, crushing their heads underneath the great wheels. That sight alone was enough to warn the villagers; seeing those defenceless flowers flattened under the wheels of a massive, metal machine.

The car's canvas roof was ripped off and flapping in the breeze. There were five men - one was sitting on the edge of the jeep clinging onto the roof, hanging dangerously over the wheel. 

            Sam sat motionless and tall on his black steed with the other hunters behind him.

            The city people continued laughing until a passenger in the front seat pointed at the villagers. The driver seemed to notice them for the first time and swerved to stop, tires chucking up dust into the air as they stalled a foot from the nearest hut.

            Jason watched everything from the doorway, his mother behind him with her hand protectively on his shoulder. The city men stumbled out of the jeep. One almost fell on his face as he jumped from his seat.

            ‘Welcome to our little community.’ Sam was the first to speak, opening his arms wide.
          The men were dressed in torn combat trousers, vests dirty and ripped, their shoes falling apart with tape strapping the soles together. They were carrying guns.

            ‘How can we help you?’ Sam asked.

            The city men stood in a V. The biggest man who had been the driver wore a red bandana and stood at the front. He smiled showing teeth rotten and black. He scanned the scenery and his eyes fell on the baskets of vegetables just by the garden gates.

            The red bandana man beckoned to the baskets with the butt of his gun. ‘How about some of those?’

            Sam turned his head to see what red bandana was referring to.
           Mike was staring at one of the men directly behind the leader who was leering at him. The man had a gold earring in his right ear and held his rifle in both hands as if daring anyone to ask him to use it. Mike brought his hand up and fingered the crow feather on the end of one of his arrows without realising.

            Sam answered the leader. ‘We can give you a portion of what we have here, of course. What do you have in return?’

            Bandana grinned, seeming pleased Sam had asked, and raised his rifle. Instantly, all the hunters raised their bows and pointed them at the leader. No one moved. The silence pounded; there were no hum of crickets or the bleating of the sheep in the pen behind.

            ‘Come now, surely we can work out a trade?’ Sam questioned.

            ‘You have things we want.’ Bandana stated.