The writings of Hunter Coch

Halfway Through #NaNoWriMo

I’ve reached the halfway point in my NaNoWriMo novel, no quitting now. Here’s another excerpt to celebrate. Again please note this is a raw and unedited first draft, so please forgive any mistakes, misspellings, and dyslexic moments. Enjoy:

We kept to the night, to keep out of sight of the raiders and the sun. Phobos lit our way with what little light he provided. The way was filled with the black and gold dunes, that were common in the Arabia, though these were smaller than the giant dunes of the eastern desert of the stories of old. So we walked carefully on the ridges, keeping care of our footing, knowing to fall into a dune valley could spell disaster by entrapment, quicksand, or many other fates un-thought of. We camped when the sun was up, using canvas for shade and skins for bedding. We traveled mainly in silence as the desert air carries sound.

And though the night was our day and slowed the consumption of water, the supply was slowly dwindling. So we watched an listened for the roving thieves perhaps to raid the raiders. As luck would have it the neighing of a horse sounded from north-east of us.

From up top a dune we spied down with the rifles scope on a small plane of rock. A small group of five camped near the foot of a dune around a small fire by what looked like a well, the horses tied to a porous boulder, barred a blue sash with a red snake.

“I don’t feel right just attacking,” I whispered.

“I understand,” was her reply.

“A test of character?”

She responded with an acquisitive look.

“A helpless woman lost in the desert, stumbles down a dune,” I added.

She almost let out a laugh of excitement, then took the plunge with a scream of the stereotypical female victim.

Her fall was an act on par with the greatest of actors. The fall and stumble down the sand was chaotic and deadly to those who’ve never seen Miki in action. Each tumble was an act of grace in chaotic form.  When she reached the bottom she removed the katana, sticking it in the sand with her hand still berried, grasped to the hilt.

I moved the scope to follow the five men. They were up and moving towards Miki’s still body. The walked without care or concern. I saw and heard the men laughing, some spoke but I was too far to make out words.

At Miki one bent down and checked for a pulse; a good sign, the only one. He slapped her face and said something. Another raider went to one of the horses, removing a roll of rope. When I returned my site to the rest, they were all circled, looking down at her. The man who knelt cupped Miki’s right breast; bad move pal.

I put my finger on the trigger.

Then the man with the rope returned.

Another man kicked Miki gently and started caressing her. Anger filled me. I decided to take the initiative, and pulled the trigger on the caressing man. The thunder of the rifle carried in the air as the bullet landed in my target. He fell back to the ground and twisted. The others jumped back in surprise.

Miki jumped up spinning and tossing the sand that hid her weapon in all directions; blinding one. Two were running back to the camp. Miki sliced down on the one that fondled her, removing the offending hand, then twisted up slicing open his belly, disemboweling the raider.

I moved back to the fleeing two, finding them at the horses; one removing a rifle the other a pair of blades. I lined the cross hairs on the one with the rifle; triggered pulled. He fell back into one of the horses and sadly the horse fell too.

Sites back to Miki, her last opponent headless, she rushed the bladed man who was rushing her. They collided with the mans blades slicing down, Miki blocked, spun with the blue-black blade digging deep into the raiders spine.

With that I slid down the dune.

We plundered the bodies, refilled our supply of water and stole the four living horses. Good, well bred desert horses. We rode off back into the dunes silent and fast.



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