Sharing the Story

When the Spirit Speaks

Chapter One — A Single Shot

Colt smelled his own sweat, the kind that comes from days unwashed spent in the heat, tinged with adrenalin and just a dash of fear. He stared out at the barren desert road. It was too hot, dry and deadly where he lay for even the lizards to venture out. The hills surrounding him were rough rock from the beginning of time that gradually wore out into the sand at their base. Sand that had absorbed the blood and tears of centuries of battles. War, and the type of men who made war, combined in this hostile land to make it as close to hell on Earth as the human mind could fathom. That was true for the natives as well as those who trod on the unfamiliar soil of Afghanistan. 

The heat was ferocious, making breathing a task that almost required thought. The slight winds that the mind said would cool merely acted as a carrier for the small sand particles that seemed to attack the eyes and uncovered skin and sneak under clothing to make every part of the body ache for relief.