Free Blood Legacy: The Story of Ryan by Kerri Hawkins Page B

various beeps of the computer, and her own noise of movement.
    But this room was tomb-like in its silence. The only sound was the scrape of the sheet against itself as the woman’s chest slowly rose, then fell. The utter stillness seemed to magnify this only motion in the room.
    Susan tried to be clinical about this observation. The woman’s respirations were shallow and far apart, but she did appear to be breathing regularly.
     Susan took a step forward, then stopped. She took a deep breath herself, her exhalation loud in the silence. She braced herself to take another step.
    The shrill, steady beep came forth so loud in the silence that she stifled a scream. She clutched her hand to her chest, then turned in panic as EKG chattered to life behind her. The display went from flatline to a pattern of steady, jagged peaks.
    Susan froze. The woman’s heartbeat was fast and erratic and seemed to boom in the stillness of the room. Strangely, the heartbeat was out of sync with the EKG, and it took Susan a moment to realize it was her own heartbeat she was hearing, not that of the sleeping woman. She took a deep breath, calming herself and the heartbeat receded. The only sound in the room was the slow, steady beep of the EKG.
    The woman did not move, but her eyes twitched. Susan’s heart rate jumped back up and she had the terrifying impression the woman was going to open her eyes. But instead, the eyes began their rhythmic pulsing that signified the woman was dreaming.
     
     
     
    The boy was working with his father at the anvil. His mother and the small girl were out in the fields. He glanced up occasionally in their direction, but he could not see them because they were too far.
    A cloud of dust attracted his attention. It seemed to be heading in the direction of his mother and the girl. He watched with concern and finally removed the blacksmith’s apron he was wearing. He began trotting, then running in that direction.
    He crested the hill in time to see the band of horses circling the two women. The boy’s mother clutched the girl to her breast. Both women were terrified and the boy felt his anger burn. The men weren’t hurting them but their laughter infuriated him.
    He ran into the path of one of the horses and it reared, throwing its rider to the ground. The boy kicked the man in the head and continued running towards his mother. With a great leap he tackled another man off his horse. He took the man’s sword and stood holding it awkwardly.
    A handsome young man raised his hand and the men came to a halt.
    “Look, the whelp wants to fight.”
    It took the boy a moment to recognize the man. It had been many years before when he had been hiding in a tree. This man had been waved away by another, and he had stalked away in anger. The boy wondered why he had returned.
    “Teach him a lesson, Derek.”
    Derek dismounted from his horse and unsheathed his sword. “Come and play with me, boy.”
    It was clear Derek did not take the boy seriously as he held his sword loosely in his hand. The boy sprang forward with surprising speed, and although untrained, struck with surprising force. Derek barely brought his sword up to parry and was unprepared for the boy’s counter. A trickle of blood appeared on his arm.
    Derek was furious. “You little bastard.”
    He sprang forward and the boy countered his attack. Derek was once more surprised by the boy’s strength and growing angrier each passing moment. His men were beginning to laugh at him, taunting.
    Derek sprang forward with a feint that the boy went for. Realizing he had overcommitted, the boy struggled to block the next blow that glanced off his sword and nicked his collarbone. Infuriated by the pain, the boy struck out, this time slicing Derek’s other arm.
    The men laughed heartily at this slight, and Derek went into a mad rage. He delivered a flurry of blows that the boy struggled to counter, moving backward. He tripped over a root and went down, losing his grip on