Free Prophecy by James Axler Page A

intent.
    Jak knew that he had been unforgivably slack in his approach to the crop, the lack of attention he had paid to his own back trail. Whatever happened now, he had to accept that he was responsible for his own position. Studying them, he could see that the one with the bandanna was closest. He would have to be the first point of attack. He could palm a knife, which would even the odds a little. Nonetheless, at such close quarters, to be outnumbered three-to-one were less than great odds. Especially as he was prone, and they were looming over him.
    Jak tensed himself. Would they expect him to attack? Surprise might be all he had…
    But it was Jak who was to be taken by surprise.

Chapter Six
    â€œWhite man…whiter than white man,” the Native American with the bandanna chuckled. “Legend never told us it would be like this.”
    Jak had been poised to spring to his feet and take his chances. But the tone of the man’s voice disarmed him. There was no malice in there; no hint of any hostility. If anything, he seemed to take the view that Jak was friend rather than foe.
    Instinct would not let Jak completely let down his guard. Nonetheless, he relaxed slightly, the tension slackening in his muscles.
    â€œWe don’t mean you harm,” one of the others said, “but we couldn’t risk you attacking.”
    Jak nodded. If he was in their position, he would act defensively. And he had to give it to them; they were good. It was a more than evenly matched standoff, and they knew it.
    â€œWhat do with me now?” he asked, aware that while he was still prone he was at their mercy.
    â€œWell, if you’re not going to turn around and attack as soon as you get the chance, we were going to offer you food and shelter. You look like you could use it.”
    Jak looked down at himself as he lay recumbent. He was covered in dust and dirt, with livid bruises and welts raised on his white skin by impact with rocks. Streaks of blood colored his skin. He figured that he had to look a whole lot worse than he felt.
    â€œWhy give me that?” he asked.
    The three men exchanged looks. The one in the middle sighed, then scratched his chin. He was so casual that it seemed as though they were old compatriots rather than men who had just been facing off.
    â€œLook, Whitey, it’s hard to explain. Probably might sound crazy and stupe unless you know already.” He studied Jak’s blank canvas of a face carefully, then continued. “Maybe you do. Don’t give much away if you do. Come with us, and we’ll explain.”
    â€œOkay. Not trust you, though.”
    The man with the bandanna laughed. “No more than we can trust you, right now. C’mon.”
    Beckoning Jak to follow him, he turned and went back down the shallow shelf of rock, starting the climb down. He was followed by one of the others, who looked over his shoulder to ensure that Jak was following. As the albino teen got to his feet, he noted that the third man stepped back, but did not immediately follow his compatriots. He waited for Jak to move. Figuring that he would do exactly the same thing under such circumstances, Jak scrambled to his feet and followed, allowing the man to wait for him before bringing up the rear.
    The two leading Native Americans were already waiting for him on the floor of the plain as he startedhis descent. Knowing this, and knowing that he had another above, Jak would have waited to attack if that had been his aim. But right now, he was more concerned with discovering why these men were acting in a friendly manner toward him. With the wag noise having long since vanished into the distance, it was also a certainty that he would need to make allies to survive. At least, until such time as he was able to begin searching for his companions.
    The four men made their way around the outcropping to where camp had been pitched. Those warriors who had been deep in meditation were now on their